BDSM Library - Story: You Can Never Go Home, Chapter: Part 1

You Can Never Go Home

by Emile

"ok, boy, drop those pants"

"but dad, please, can we just go home?"

"I know it's difficult, the good lord doesn't want to see your privates either, but the doctor here is a professional, he can help you."

"but I don't need help, mom said it was a gift"

"look boy, don't make me whup your arse. drop em"

Reluctantly, he lowered his dungarees and peeled the jockstrap off his bulging package. He could swear the young doctor licked his lips as he did so, but his dad was staring intently at him, so he said nothing.

"well see here doc is the problem. that jezebel and her liberal notions. I should've known from the minute she let them cut his hood like a heathen when he was born. But no sirree she said it was 'healthy'. And then, when he was, what, 14? ..."

"dad please, you're embarrassing me"

"and he began sproutin hair and filling out, well that was natural, but THAT" he said, pointing to his arching cock, the thick base rooted to his pelvis like a tree stump "that just ain't what the lord intended. When I saw that thing growin, I told her we needed to fix him up, even got some pills from a friend to slow the un-nat'ral growth, but what'd she do, eh, eh?"

He was yelling now, shaking the kid by the shoulder, his hair tousling over his face. His dad had been enraged when he first saw him, long ponytail tied behind him like some "hippie commie bastard", and he'd hacked it off right there with scissors, leaving a jagged mop that fell over his eyes. He meant to take him to the town barber, just as soon as this appointment was done, to get a proper decent buzzcut like he had. Seeing his son shaken up, he calmed down, coughing to hide his outburst, and continuing in a level voice.

"Urm, well that was back then, and she went to the big smoke. The judge wouldn't let me near him. But back east, he's a man at eighteen, so she don't get to decide nuthin no more. And me boy here did the right thing, comin back to me, maybe it aint too late to fix some of her wrong ways."

The doctor eyed the boy critically. Well not a boy so much as a man, solid and defined from high school football, dark hair and stubble petering off to a light dusting of body hair, before snaking together in a long snail trail to his bulging prick bush. What a bulge, like few men could boast - not so much the hair as the whole crotch was thrust up by the root of his enormous cock. The stalk easily grazed his pecs lying down, the fat mushroom head bulging above the circumcision scar like a peach, the stalk already hefty at the head. But the prodigious member didn't just join his body, it grew into it, fattening like a third thigh, flaring out at the base, a second pelvic bone. Standing as he was, the dork arched out in front of him so far it vaulted the chair, head grazing the top of the doctor's desk. As his dad spoke, a small blob of precum began soaking into the papers it touched, and he could see the veins pulsing, feeding the hungry monster.

The doctor directed him to sit on the examination table, so he could get a closer look. As he walked, the doctor got his first look at the guys balls, swinging low and heavy below the bobbing cock. On a lesser man, he would have noticed them immediately, the nutsac whacking his thighs with metronome regularity and, from his ginger steps, quite a bit of pain. Seeing him staring, his dad chimed in "yeah i'm figuring he beat off like a bronco, I swear no sac get that stretched on its own. I already told him, no touchin until they're normal too, but with this operation he ain't gonna be able'a do nuthin for a while yet, eh doc."

The patient's eyes bulged at the word operation, and he blurted out "no you can't. please, you promised, you said if there was another way..."

"yeah, IF, boy, but you heard the doc, no 'mount of hormones is gonna make that dong of yours regular again, not 'nymore. I ain't gonna waste my money tryin if this good state will pay for a quicker fix instead."

"but I don't need fixing" the boy whimpered. His voice was quiet, the whimper of a broken man, perhaps years before, filled with dread and resignation.

"look boy, when you're a man, which means 21 in this here state, you can fuck up your life how you please. but you came back a child, and I can't let you start that journey lookin like a freak. not since providence's given us these few months to fix things. Now hush, so the doctor and I can book you in."

"really that won't be necessary" the doctor said "you just sign these here forms, and we'll keep him in the clinic to run some tests, and put him in the first available bed. you can visit every day until the surgeon is ready." The doctor couldn't wait to have the 20 year old in his care. He eyed up the naked jock appreciatively, thinking of all the hurt he could cause.

"Now, Greg was it? Don't be alarmed. Once your father's finished with the forms we can have a nice long informative chat, like we do for all patients, except of course the relevant decisions aren't yours to make." He couldn't wait to tell the scared stud that he wasn't allowed to piss or shit on his own in the clinic, right before stuffing his dick with a long thick catheter, and cramming his arse with the biggest nozzle enema he could find. He knew how proud a handsome stud like this was of his body - under the sensible clothes he'd worn in, he wore a tight A&F singlet that stretched over his chest, cut just under the armpits.

The singlet was a glimpse of the young man's former life, the free and easy big city existence he'd led for his short young adult life, that had lulled him into the false sense of autonomy that drove him on this quest. Whatever freedom he thought he had when he strolled up that country path, legal or emotional, had been hobbled quickly. It was less than a week since he'd tramped past the doctor, oblivious, on his way from the bus station, the same ripped jeans, backpack and cocky smile of every adventurer from Everest to Edmonton. Like the singlet, hidden under the stiff dowdy shirt, that glimpse of rebellion had been buried.

The doctor relished the small humiliations, wondering how far that pride would go before destruction. Would he break when his former classmates came to see him, spreadeagled and sweat drenched from a cocktail of mindfucking pills? Or when the doctors drew lines on his cock, to indicate the tissue they'd be hacking away? Or when the nurse taped his remaining dickflesh tight over his glans, stretching a false foreskin back over the head? They'd keep him in Room 1, facing the waiting room, so all the town could see him naked and plugged. No sheets of course, and no gowns, since the surgeon could operate 'momentarily'. He'd have a word to the nurses, make sure he kept getting put down the list, maybe a week or two - weeks of regular visits, tests and examinations, lengthy discussions about surgical scars and erectile dysfunction. A week of dread growing in his baby blue eyes.

As Greg's father signed the papers, he called a nurse in, asking her to swap the beds in Rooms 1 and 3 for the new patient. The nurse gave the helpless hung boy a viscious glare, her thin smile filling him with fear before she snapped around and out of the room. The change was unnecessary, of course, the bed in Room 1 would've easily accomodated him. Room 3 was reserved for minors, so the bed was smaller. Although still technically a minor, his looming frame was at least a foot longer than the bed, and with his big feet pressed against the high backboard, his knees would be forced up, or out, for him to fit. His only other choice would be to let his legs drape over the sides of the wide mattress.

His father looked up from the forms, muttering something about legal bullshit, and the doctor felt obliged to do something officious, before he noticed his leer. He walked up to the boy, standing only inches away from him, so the dong pushed into his white jacket, curving down at an awkward angle. Greg tried to wiggle back, but his legs already pressed against the bench, and the doctor leaned in, pushing the cock down further. He brandished his stethoscope, pressing the cold steel against the kids big brown nipple and making him gasp. Hearing the father's pen stop, he told the kid to breathe in and out. Without taking his eyes off Greg's own wide pupils, only inches away, he waited until he heard the papers shuffling again, before slipping the cold instrument onto the other nipple.

With his other hand, he placed a finger on the root of the cock, rubbing the coarse hair through his fingers. "Before the surgeon scrubs in, we'll need to clear this away." The kid's heartbeat jumped twice, once from the feeling of another guy touching his dickroot, and again when he mentioned the pre-op shave. He slid the finger up to the base of the kid's tight abs, about 3 inches higher, still grasping some hairs so they were tugged painfully. "Up to about here, I think, the same all round." The kid's balls tightened at that one, rightly guessing what he meant. "I'll get a male nurse to do that today, just in case. Of course, we'll probably need to repeat the process every other day, unless your father consents to a more durable solution..." The father looked up, grunting. The doctor spun around, bending the horsecock sideways, dragging the head along the coarse cloth until he bucked and yelped. They ignored him, the doctor explaining to the father the problem while the kid rubbed his ropeburned cockhead, until the doctor slapped his hand away. "... stop that, or we'll have to restrain you. Now, as I was saying, a better method might be to use some of the ladies cream, which gives us a longer window before we need to clear the area again. It lasts about a month, I'm told, which should be plenty of time."

His father grunted again, clearly unimpressed. "He ain't a lady, doc." "Well of course. We'll stick to shaving him." He called another nurse to take him to Room 1, and have Jacob prep him for shaving. He explained in detail to the nurse what needed to be done, making a wide arc with his finger from Greg's abs to mid thigh, jabbing the fold of his dickroot to indicate his balls and crack. She guided him off the bench, putting his arm over her shoulder like an invalid, forcing him to shuffle next to her, cock swinging, still buck naked. Jacob was the docs favourite assistant, a big black kid the same height and build as Greg - in fact a former classmate. The african had dropped out of school at 16 and had done odd jobs ever since. He wasn't qualified, of course, even for the nurses duties like shaving, but he was the only male who wasn't a doctor, and they all figured jobs like shaving and moving patients weren't that hard - what were a few nicks and scratches anyway. It sure beat mopping floors, and the doc loved the enthusiasm with which he plunged into every job,cheerfully babbling away, his booming voice echoing down the hall. He waited a moment, until he heard Jacob's telltale voice "He-ey, I remember you! Wow, so I gotta shave you huh, who'd have thought - me the kid you guys all picked on, now I'm boss of you. I gotta tell you, sometimes when I'm not real careful, guys get those stinging cuts, so you better hold real still. ... No, fuck you white boys are all the same, the doc said I's to do this, I ain't letting you do it. Now spread them legs wide, I don't care who can see, and no more backchat, cause you is making me angry!"

The doctor closed the door, finding Greg's fathers eyes boring into him. "Of course, there is another way. It's a more industrial hair remover, used by athletes in season when the need to tape up their arms. It's designed to last all season though - six months or so, and the hair grows back coarser and thicker. A lot of the guys don't use it, cause you're a gorilla after unless you keep using it. But it's definitely a man's fix." Greg's dad thought for a second, not the quickest thinker. "So, is it cheaper?" The doctor smiled. "Sure -it's free, covered by insurance." He neglected to mention the shave was as well. "So whadda you say?" Greg's dad grunted in assent, turning back to the papers without another thought. He began mumbling something about too much to sign. The doctor came over to explain the last waivers, the cream would have to wait until after Jacob had finished. He wasn't sure if it was safe to use on broken skin, but he looked forward to finding out.

About ten minutes later, the doctor shook hands with the proud father, eagerly looking forward to getting back the son he lost - well the son he'd have is Greg had never been taken away. The pain, the humiliation, everything Greg would endure seemed to be worth it to his father, and he marched up the corridor, oblivious to the screams of his son as Jacob nicked his balls again with the straight razor. The doctor meanwhile put the papers in order, and picked up Greg's clothes, still strewn on the ground. He dumping the shirt, singlet and jocks into his waste bin, guessing rightly they'd end up on the backs and cupping the nuts of the Mexican cleaner's two strapping boys. He threw out the notes on his desk as well, that'd been ruined by Greg's dickleak, watching with amusement as the puddle poured down over the clothes. But the dungarees he folded carefully, ready to take the sole remaining posession up to the front desk where it would remain, folded, within eyesight of the groaning naked boy on the bed. It was important to dangle something, he thought, a shred of dignity, to prolong the process just a little more. He bellowed down the hall - "Next".