It had seemed so straightforward. Linda, whom I met at college 22 years ago, had asked me to treat her son. I knew he had started suffering from blackouts at the age of 16. Lately they had increased in frequency. He was now turning 20 and would leave for college on an athletics scholarship. Linda was worried that he would hurt himself badly. His specialty was the decathlon and he needed all his energy and focus to perform.
Linda had taken her son to all sorts of specialists and they had come to the conclusion that it his blackouts were caused by a lack of blood to the brain. As Linda had been unable to find a heart specialist that could see John on short notice, she had come to me.
I am doctor specializing in heart problems. Through my Chinese roots I also use alternative therapies such as massage, zone therapy and acupuncture to compliment modern science. The combination has proved very effective.
- I will be on holiday but if John doesn't mind the boredom, he can spend the week at the cabin while I examine him.
Linda dropped John off on Sunday afternoon and drove straight back to town. John carried his big case easily up to his room. Still, his tired demeanor made his 6 foot 3 frame seem small. Seeing him brought home to me that John was not himself.
On Monday morning I had a chat with John to go through the week. I would take his pulse and blood pressure three times a day. Also he would wear a monitoring device connected through Wi-Fi to my computer. I wanted him to keep a diary of what he ate and his activities so as to be able to isolate any triggers.
Just as I leaned forward to show him the activity plan, I saw his eyes roll back. I leaped up and caught him just as he was tipping over the chair. He was too heavy for me to hold. As he fell, I instinctively tried to get underneath him to break his fall.
I caught his head with my hands. His body hit me like a punch. My butt hit the floor first. His body pushed my back and I hit the wooden floor. I lost my breath. I thought I would faint.
When all was still I was worried that John had hurt himself. I could not move. My 90 pounds under his 220 were suffocating. John had landed face down. His left leg lay between mine. His upper body had twisted to the side. His head was resting on the floor with my hand lodged in between.
He was out cold, breathing slowly. He was so heavy. My back hurt. Something was caught between his thigh and my hips. I stuck my hand down to remove it. It was a large object in his pocket. I took a firm grip to try to push it to the side. A flashlight? But it was soft. Suddenly I felt it twitch. I tried to let go but my hand was stuck. I could feel it vibrate to the rhythm of John's heart.
I was holding his very large penis.
John started to wake up. As he did, he started to move. Fortunately I could remove my hand before he noticed my hand and I could help him off me. He apologized and said it usually doesn't happen in the mornings. I was just glad I was there to catch him.
John looked groggy as he went back to his room to study. I ordered him to get into bed in case something happened again.
I went about my day as normal. I went out to fetch wood for the stove, filled several bottles with water from the well – we had running water for washing but I preferred drinking water from the well. The cabin was located in the north out in the wood far away from any neighbors.
After dinner I took a shower. With shampoo in my face I was blindly looking for the soap. I reached out and got a bottle. As I was I holding it I needed to open my eyes to see that it was the right one. Before I opened my eyes I felt the large, round bottle and my body and mind connected: it was the same size as John's penis. I stared at the soap bottle. It was huge. Closing my eyes, I caressed it. No mistake. John had a penis that was huge.
As I sat down at my desk and look through my notes, I went through the data I had from John. There was nothing strange. There was a sharp drop before his blackout as was expected. If anything, it confirmed Linda's suspicion. For some reason, his body was prioritizing blood flow elsewhere resulting in a blackout. It was the brain's way of protecting itself. It simply shut down.
I had seen similar symptoms with binge eaters. They stuffed themselves far too fast with blood rushing to the stomach to start digestion resulting in lightheadedness. I had once come across a blackout due to this.
By midnight I was pooped and went to bed. No sooner I had put my head on the pillow, was I sleeping soundly. My dreams came just as quickly, strange dreams of people falling down in front of me. I was trying to catch them but was always too late. As they were falling, I found myself tripping over them. My hands tried desperately to grab the handles that appeared on the sides of the wall. My hands were never able to get a firm grip. They kept sliding off. The handles were soft and warm to my touch but always slipping away. I opened my eyes and saw that I was trying to grab giant penises.
I woke up with an idea to what was happening to John. I would have to put it to the test. I tried to compare John with my husband. The difference appeared to be monstrous. John's penis was easily three times as thick and twice as long as my husbands. How much blood was needed to...power it? I had formed the theory that when John got an erection, his body reacted like it should. Only that his giant equipment drained him so thoroughly that he passed out.
I was going to put it to the test. A loose top and a carelessly fastened robe should be enough. I had to be careful. After all, this was Linda's son.
I am rather small and slim. Never having any children of my own, I had small perky B-cup breasts, which might have been the reason for John's blackout yesterday. I was still a doctor and John was my patient. That would soon change.
John was having breakfast. He was reading a textbook and devouring his second bowl of cornflakes. It occurred to me that I needed for him to move to the couch or to the floor. I had been lucky to catch him yesterday.
- John, I will need the table for my folders. Can you move to the sofa?
