I grasped the edge of the thin vinyl pad that passed for a mattress. I twisted the sheet, holding it tight. Dr. Buckley sat at the end of the table, talking to Ren. He arranged the draping, the cold air hitting my balls, making me shiver more. He muttered something which made Ren chuckle as she lifted her eyes to mine. I was pretty sure they were talking about my junk. I felt the need to defend myself.
“It’s cold in here,” I snapped. “Shrinkage, you know.”
Buckley snorted, muttering something about egos, and Ren laughed. Then they fell silent in preparation.
What happened next was torture that went on for hours. Or fifteen minutes when I checked the clock. But it was horrendous.
The blade being drawn across my scrotum was slow and scary. The Betadine on my balls was like being dunked in a vat of ice, and I squealed at the cold.
Ren rolled her eyes.
The “pinch and burn” of the anesthetic was more like an explosion of agony in my balls, the fire hot enough it should have done the job the surgeon was determined to take care of.
I groaned, grabbing the foam mattress hard in order not to launch myself off and run like hell. I could picture the headline—
“Actor Liam Wright caught streaking on Hollywood Boulevard, his ass hanging from an open johnny gown as his balls slapped and twisted in the wind. He was blubbering and screaming about saving his junk as he was hauled away to the loony bin.”
Then blissful numbness set in, and I relaxed a little. But all too soon, it felt as if Dr. Buckley was trying to pull a kidney down through my nutsac.
“Did I request my inner organs get moved?” I yelped. “I’m not paying extra for that service,” I informed them.
“Part of the procedure,” he muttered, pulling harder. “Damn and blast, if our health care wasn’t so fucked up, we could do this in a hospital with you knocked out. Damn government and their cutbacks.”
“Is it easier?” I gasped, trying not to move in case he got pissier.
“For me, it is,” he snarled. “Then you’d be quiet.”
“God, you’re a grumpy bugger,” I muttered.
He glanced up. “You would be too if you stared at dicks all day.”
I had to give him that one.
Finally, after years and years, it was over.
He stood, stripping off his gloves. “Stay there for a few minutes. Then Ren will help you up, and you can go.”
“How long should I stay in bed to recover?”
He snorted. “That depends on you. Nothing strenuous, no sex for a while. A bag of peas or an ice pack will help the ache. I’ll give you some painkillers to take if you need them. A couple of days, you’ll be fine. There will be a recovery instruction sheet with your prescription.” He paused in the doorway. “My wife, Mary, is a fan. Leave an autograph.”
I stared at his retreating form, grateful Mary liked me. Lord only knows what he might have done if she hadn’t.
Then I snorted internally at his words. A couple of days? I was pretty sure I would need at least a week to get over this.
Maybe more.At home, I eased onto the sofa in the den with a groan.
“Do you need some pain meds?” Shelby asked, running her hand along my head. I sighed and leaned into her caress. It felt good.
“Yeah,” I pouted. “It hurts.” It wasn’t as bad as I’d feared, but I didn’t want to tell her that. I wanted her to spoil me. I loved it when Shelby spoiled me.
“I’ll get the ice too.”
“Okay. And, Shelby?”
“Yes?”
“I’m hungry. I couldn’t eat before, and now I’m starving. Did you-did you cook turkey like you promised?”
Her voice was amused. “Yes.”
I opened my eyes and met her gaze. “Could I have a sandwich?”
“Yes.”
“Any, ah, chance you made cupcakes? I think I need a little sugar.”
“Of course you do.”
Everett walked in. “How are you feeling?”
Shelby left the den as I started telling him of the horrific morning I’d had. I knew he’d understand. And he did, covering his dick with a wince as I told him of the procedure.
“Jesus,” he muttered. “How long you down for?”
I laid my head back. “Days and days, I think.”
Shelby came in, carrying a tray. She slid it onto the table and handed me a bag of peas. “Nice try, Liam. I’ll give you two. This will help.”
I glanced at the label. “Organic peas?”
She smirked. “Only the best for OJ, Liam.”
“Damn straight, woman.”
The cold was heaven, dulling the ache my testicles felt. The painkillers took care of the rest of the discomfort. The sandwich filled the emptiness of my stomach, and the cupcakes were a welcome bonus.
After eating, I went to bed, and my mum carried in my weans. Olivia lay on my chest, a warm weight I welcomed. Adam snuggled into my side, and soon, they were both asleep.