The White Box -- Part 2 - Sex Stories

The White Box -- Part 2

... that in my calendar, will you please, Rita?” She laughed again, shaking her head in mock disgust. Dr. Mullin had finished his exam and began to describe the treatment alternatives. “It’s good that you can get an erection and have an orgasm. Had any dry ones?” He continued when I had nodded, “That’s typical for castration victims. Sometimes you’ll have an ejaculation. It will be clear—fluid produced by the prostate. It tastes just like regular semen, or so I’ve read, but obviously has no sperm. Essentially, there are three types of HRT—hormone replacement therapies. First are tablets. They’re better for someone who has some testicular function, so they’re not the best choice for someone like you. Next are gels that you would rub into your chest and shoulders every day. Examples are Androgel and Testim. They would be better for you, but you’d have to use a lot, so much that your skin would be as dry as parchment. Also, there’s a real chance that it could transfer to Rita if she touched you anywhere on your shoulders. I think the best option would be injections—testosterone cypionate would be the generic and there’s absolutely no difference between that and the brand—Depo-Testosterone. I’ll take a blood sample even though I know what it will say because the insurance companies all require it. I’ll start you on one shot every five days.” “Can I do it myself, Doctor? I don’t think I could get away from work that often and what would I do on weekends?” “I don’t recommend you ...

... doing it to yourself. The injections will take a long time because there’s a lot and the liquid is viscous—thick. It has to be injected slowly.” “Can you show me, Brian? I’ll do it for you, Martin, besides this way I’ll get to see that cute butt.” We all shared a laugh and agreed; Dr. Brian showed Rita how to load the syringe and press it into my butt. She pressed the plunger slowly. It took her almost five minutes to complete the task. Dr. Brian approved. “There’s one other thing we should discuss. I don’t normally recommend this, but in your case I will. He wrote on a slip of paper then handed it to me. “I’m going to refer you to my friend Justin Bradley. He’s a surgeon. He’ll speak to you about prosthetics.” He continued once I had gained control of myself. “Yes, Martin—there are fake balls made of a variety of materials and in several sizes, too. Rita tells me you’re an active man so there’s a chance you’ll be in a locker room with other men. This could save you a ton of embarrassment.” Rita was right—Dr. Brian was a great doctor. I liked him a lot. He wrote a prescription for six bottles—enough for a month of testosterone injections, hugged Rita, and sent us out to pay the bill. I drove us to my neighborhood pharmacy and waited for it to be filled. “Mr. Bellamy, uh…your insurance has denied the prescription. They say it’s excessive.” “Interesting…they know my condition better than my doctor. Okay, I’ll pay the full amount and work with them tomorrow.” The bill was ...