Priapism

 

I can write about this now because I’ve come through it, but several years ago I had an extremely rare medical condition called Priapism. Wait for it – PERMANENT ERECTION. My penis was fully engorged, solid rocko, much bigger than usual, for at least THREE WEEKS! It went down eventually, thank Christ. I had to go hospital and everything. Everyone wanted to examine me – none of them women by the way. The embarrassment alone was bad enough (when was the last time you saw someone in the street with an erection?), but it was dreadfully painful as well. I couldn’t walk, and needed morphine. It felt like it was filled with drawing pins, really tender and sore. I’d never heard of this condition before so I thought it was supernatural. I thought pornography had put a spell on me or something. It doesn’t sound like much of an affliction but believe you me, it is. I happily would have had it amputated. It’s one of the hardest physical things I’ve ever been through. Pun very much intended.

I had to go somewhere on my back when I was bedridden with it. I started playing out a dramatization of something similar to Coronation Street in my mind. I was the main star. I was watching it every night for a couple of hours. Part of me wanted to put the permanent erection to use, on women. It would have pleasured a woman very much indeed, if only it hadn’t of been painful. Some men might see this condition as a main wish. In hospital they wanted a urine sample, which is physically impossible with a standing-proud bonk-on. Maybe, If I stood on the ceiling and pointed downwards. They suggested putting a pump on my nut-sack, because this condition permanently damages the erectile tissue forever. The pump would ensure future hard-ons. I politely refused the pump, but am now starting to regret it. I haven’t had a raging boner since, except in my erotic dreams. I miss it quite a bit, it’s my manliness man, my virility, my essence. Why me?

What caused it? The doctor said it’s caused by mixing cocaine with olanzapine, an anti-psychotic. I remember, when it occurred, that it grew an inch overnight. The same old penis all my life, and then, in my early forties, it grows an inch overnight. Weird or what? The morphine was essential and lovely, that’s what helped me journey into a sitcom in my brain every night to escape the pain. That bit about the supernatural curse is true. It was a particularly dodgy porn I was watching at the time. Because I was paranoid and off my nut, I was beginning to think it was a tactfully-done snuff movie. The woman had a pendant on, and I thought it cast a spell into my spirit. Phillip K Dick reported something similar about pendants. Jewelry on naked woman can be very powerful. I must say that I do like jewelry on a birthday-suited babe. A lot of it, if possible. Earrings, chain, rings, the lot. It compliments the general makeover such as lipstick and nails. I have a thing for adornment. I like my women adorned. Shoes are essential. Leave the stillettos on please darling, if you don’t mind. I don’t worry about the hair so much, even if they’re baldy. I don’t mind a woman with a skinhead one bit. My guardian spirit told me that the way to look at a woman is at their hair and her eyes, and that’s it. I must also say, that I prefer them with her legs spread and high up in the air with a well-endowed big buck penetrating her senseless. Sorry, that had to be said. But only when I’m in perv-mode.

I’m not in perv-mode at the minute, but the temptation is always there. I’m thinking about going to Liverpool when I get paid and buying some interracial novelty for enjoyment, but one bag of drugs equals three days of psychosis, so it’s off-putting. It’s a much nicer life not being a pervert.