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The Eclectic Pen - Beanbag damages

By: Rob E. (baloner)  
Date Submitted: 6/8/2009
Genre: Medical Books
Words: 751
Rating:

The medical term for it was "scrotal elongation", or "scrotus danglus" in the Latin. I had rollers the size of tangerines, and they hung near my ankles. This would have attracted many spectators and would have been the story of a lifetime, and possibly even been lucrative as a porn star or perhaps a sideshow, if they didn't hurt so damn bad. I had a habit of rolling them up into a special pouch that my grandmother knitted up, and tucking the whole assembly in a safe place. I used to live with Juan K, as some of you well know, and he was fairly intent that I get off my dead ass and help out with some chores. I was not interested in chores, and made no bones about not doing them. One day juanks donks broke into my bedroom and demanded that I get right out and mow the grass. I didn't have time to tuck my danglers, and they were especially sore from accidentally getting flushed down the toilet the night before. That plumber was sure nice. So I am out in the yard, Juan K is off to work, and I commence with the mowing. Keep in mind that my juevos, which could choke a donkey, were not deposited safely in their knitted scrot-purse that was so carefully fitted. I broke out the mower, and as luck would have it I was out of gasoline. The pushmower leered out at me from the interior corner of the shed, maniacally and silently mocking my consternation. I stepped in, brushed off the dust and cobwebs and rolled the 80 lb. monstrosity out into the spring sunshine. I had my balls thrown over my shoulder to keep them out of harm's way, and that was working out pretty well. Then I began the rhythmic back-and-forth across the seemingly gigantic half-acre that was Juanky donky's back yard. As I was approaching the juvenile aspen tree, it happened. My lima beans (and bag) were pulled through the razor sharp teeth of the bloodthirsty and mideival machine. I cried out, and fell to my knees. I was still a couple of feet behind the thing, and my juicy doubles had circled the rotor tw ice. The pain was blinding, and through the red tinted haze I noticed my dong was in there too! I morbidly toyed with the idea of calling the paramedics, but having anyone see what I had done to myself was not an option that I was willing to entertain. So began the painful task of extracting my giant swollen bag from the mower. I thought maybe I could just back it up, but when I screeched the damn thing back just a few inches, the pain dropped me to my grass stained knees once again. So I reached in and started to untangle my guys. I freed the end of the land monster sac, and tilted the mower up to free the rest of the wrap. The pain was excruciating. I had a couple of deep lacerations that I knew would require stitches, but going to the hospital dragging my misshapen and giant nutsac was again, not tempting. I had limited time before Juan K returned and caught me balls in hand. I knew that he had some pretty sophisticated surgical equipment, after all it's Juan we're talking about . My thoughts were reeling out of control, and my calm temperament began to shift to panic. This wasn't the first time I had a run-in with my balls getting caught in machinery, but usually it was something harmless like the spokes of my bike or the vacuum cleaner. I had to figure something out quick. The only solution was to figure out how to conceal the wreckage of my flopping appendage, and destroy that infernal pushmower. The bane of my existence, I would have my day with that twisted-tooth bitch. An epiphany was dancing on the skirts of my immediate consciousness, and I struggled to pull it to light. What if I pulled on my tongue? Would that shorten the beanbag to at least a manageable length? It might be worth a try, but then I'd have the long tongue to consider. Why not pull it in temporarily, I mused, and began the arduous task of pulling my beloved tongue. It resisted at first. I retrieved a pair of antique spaghetti tongs that Juan kept in the dish drainer by the sink, and I started to pull my tongue with those. It started with a creaking sound, and to my amazement my balls began to lift from the floor! I continued pulling until my sac was a normal length, granted after staring at four footers for twenty years they were still hanging long, and the lacerations shrunk with them.Thereafter, I decided I had to do something about that tongue........

The Eclectic Pen » All Stories by Rob E. (baloner)

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