It has been three glorious weeks of sleep since I had my son fixed! Things have mostly gone back to normal. Sure, most of the girls he slept with regularly have gone, but the few that stuck around have said they enjoy sex even more now. They can orgasm as much as they want without him selfishly finishing early. Honestly, I've borrowed his dick a few times and made my husband wear it! I can't believe how much bigger and better my son’s dick is than his! Of course, my son hasn't been as happy; after the first week, he stopped crying. But he says he feels horny all the time and can't get any release. 

My husband has been begging me to sort it out; he thinks there must be a way to recreate his dick and have it reattached! Haha, this isn't science fiction! I've told my son not to worry, mummy and her work friend will fix it if he stops by my hospital this afternoon. So here he is, precisely on time, sedated and strapped down on an operating table.

My fantastic colleague, Nancy, suggested this operation. She’s done it to all three of her sons when they became problems during their teen years. I'm going to remove his balls. No more feeling horny and missing his dick! Problem solved!

My hands shaped slightly in excitement as I felt around in his sack for his hefty balls. I made the first cut and popped his left testicle out; I paused briefly to catch my breath.

“Shame” says Nancy, “he's got great-looking balls! My boys were half the size of his. What are you going to do with them afterwards? I've got mine in labelled jars; I make the boys hold it if they ever misbehave!” 

I pointed to the jar on the side and wink, Nancy grabbed it and held it under the first ball. One quick snip and it drops in. Another quick cut, and the right one follows it. A few stitches, and he's ready to be woken up.

He slowly came around. He smiled as he saw my face. “Thanks mum for fixing me. I promise I won’t be jerking off all the time again!” he says groggily. I laugh! Panic washes over his face as he grabbed for his crotch, finding nothing there.

“What have you done?” he shouted. I explained that now he’ll no longer miss his penis, give it a few weeks, and he won't want sex. I will take his strap-on as he won't be using it anymore, and it's a shame for the work to go to waste. 

Once he calmed down, I handed him the jar with his balls. Before he could say anything, my husband and daughter arrived in the recovery room to see him. My daughter started laughing, and my husband looked worried.