|The Story||The Authors|
Hickey indulged himself with trancelike reveries as he sped along after the
fleeing ambulance with Crink at the wheel.
But even these idle fantasies couldn't completely distract him from the awful chafing of the prosthesis between his sweaty legs. To be sure the thing was an inspiring and crafty bit of engineering (paid, naturally at the hospital's expense).A real thing of beauty (It certainly helped overcome the embarrassment of the communal police showers), but it was not always comfortable.
In the wake of the original accident, once it had become apparent that his original member was not going to be able to be reattached the hospital upper management had gone into overdrive. Even before the initial effects of the anesthetic had worn away Matthew had found his in his groggy hand a pen and in front of him a release. In return for not suing the hospital he would receive an expensive prosthetic replacement for his severed penis, a lifetime of free healthcare and a cash settlement to be determined later. Not fully comprehending, Matthew signed. The small pen wrapped in his fist like a child's crayon.
The device was ingeniously made and almost fully "functional". A certain adolescent vanity in him had made Matthew choose a model a full three inches larger than his original equipment and modeled after a popular porn star's prodigious unit. From the large purplish head (circumsised)to the detailed sculpting of veins and downy pubic hair (carefully harvested and selected to match the color and texture his own in all but DNA)every nuance of reality had been examined. Hidden deep within the remarkably lifelike folds of the scrotal sack a small valve pumped fluid into the larger portion to achieve tumescence. A tiny watch battery (not supplied) could even be used to make the thing vibrate and thusly enhance the owner's partner's pleasure. Matthew made sure he got all the options.
For many weeks after the final fitting he'd sat in front of the mirror admiring the faux penis from many angles. For hours on end he practiced activating the valve in such a way that it looked natural. It truly was a shining beauty of a manly member and in a hundred and fifty ways better than his original equipment. Save one.
Had all the sensation of a brick.
He'd only been moved to use it thusly only twice. Her name was Sherri Wheaton. He'd been moved to woo her more or less out of a secret need to prove to himself that even with the daily testosterone injections and prosthesis he was still a man. They'd met at the Dairy Queen. After a long and gentlemanly courtship and a long soulful talk about the matter she asked to see it. She touched it. they kissed and itwas all downhill from there.
She loved it. From the flawlessly smooth skin, the near perfect length (big, but not too big.) and a craftily designed curve to stimulate just the right spot it was all that Sherri had ever wanted out of a penis. When Hickey hit the vibrate switch, over the edge she went.
Unfortunately, for Matthew it was not so fun. It was an effort that reminded him oddly of shoveling snow. Backbreaking exertion with no real pay-off. All through the act he looked down a Sherri as she thrashed and moaned beneath him. She looked so ridiculous. He felt detatched from the whole experience. She was experiencing sensations he would never have again. And Hickey began to hate her for it. The hopeless sham of it all washed over him like an ocean swell. Deep inside him the itch he would never be able to scratch again throbbed. pain, jealousy and hate filled him. When Sherri had had her fill, Matthew silently got dressed and went home. He never called her again.