Strange Things I’ve Done to my Penis

29 04 2008

Let me start out saying that if you know me in real life, stop now. You probably don’t want to read further. But if you already stomached my narrative on the horrors of being a man at the doctors office, you’ll be fine.

If you made it this far, I’ll continue by saying that I could just as easily write about “Strange things Ive done to my finger” or “weird happenings with my feet” but that would be boring, which is something I try not to be.

From time to time, I have visited tanning beds. I did it in high school to have a nice color for prom. Throughout college and my early career years, I would get a few sessions in before taking a beach trip to get a nice base tan in an attempt to save myself from a sunburn while on vacation. And this month, I’m taking advantage of a month of tanning that was offered by my new gym. Typically speaking, though, I gave up tanning a long time ago. Having the Vinyl Village pool means that I usually get a little sun before any trips, and having the roof open on the car keeps me slightly tanned year round.

I never was, and never will be, one of those people who tans so much that they turn orange. I saw such a creature this past weekend at a fundraiser. The poor thing must have slept in a sunbed every night…she was literally the color of a basketball, and had almost the same texture. I have also never been one for naked tanning, or clever little “press on tattoos” that leave a pasty white image of a Playboy bunny or something equally tacky on the netherregions. I simply hop into the tanning bed with whatever underwear I have on and leave it at that.

Now, before I learned the supportive benefits of boxer briefs, a nice trunk, or a classic tighty whitie, I pretty much stuck to boxers. And that’s what I had on one day when I got into the tanning bed. I’d already had several sessions, so had a good base, and was up to the point where I tanned for about 10 or 12 minutes a session.  So I got down to my boxers, slapped on those goofy looking glasses, and got in.

All seemed well until later that night. My penis was very tender…the slightest bit of friction from walking or moving about was terribly uncomfortable. And it itched slightly. When I got into the shower I noticed the cause–I’d sunburned my dick! The baggy boxers I had been wearing had apparently gaped open at the fly just enough to expose a lemon-shaped wedge of pasty white shaft skin. Well, at least it had been pasty white. Now it was bright red. The shower water hitting me burned. Rubbing against clothes caused almost nauseating pain for at least two days. And then it itched like crazy. A week later, it peeled! And for weeks I had what appeared to be a lemon-shaped liver spot midway up my wang.

But that isn’t all my poor weiner has had to endure. Skip ahead a few years. My roommate in college got a new computer and for the first time, we had the internet in our home. She and I were surfing ebay one night, trying to find something that we actually needed, though I can’t recall what it was.

We came across an auction for one of those penis enlarging “pumps”. The current price was around $2. Jokingly, J, the roomie, put a bid in on it. Now, since she and I were both new to eBay, we had no idea that what we had just bid on was a dutch auction. (Meaning that there are several of the item up for bids, and there’s a good chance all who bid will end up with one.) But that’s what we had done. Bid two dollars on an instrument guaranteed to add inches to your manhood. A few days later, we got the dreaded email :”Congratulations! The auction has ended and you are the winner of the Long Dong Vacuum Schlong” (or whatever it was called). Not wanting to harm our fresh eBay reputation, we ponied up the two dollars and just paid for the damned thing. Within a week, the pump arrived at our door step. It looked like a combination between a test tube on steroids and a blood pressure cuff. We had a laugh, and it got tossed into my closet.

A few weeks later, I went to bed, and for whatever reason, my mind turned to the device in the closet.

“What the heck?” I figured, “Let’s see if this thing works.” So I squeezed through the rubber gasket at the end, and pumped up the little valve. A few moments later, I was the proud owner of a penis that, while not appreciably larger, was a bit more girthy. But it looked like someone was choking it. It was reddish purple, and the pump was not at all comfortable. Fun over, I released the valve and pulled at the pump.

Only, it wouldn’t move. A few painful yanks, and it hadn’t budged. I walked around my room, giant plastic object hanging from my johnson, and found some lotion–hoping that would provide just enough lubricant to extract myself from the pump.

Half a bottle later, I was still stuck and starting to panic. My mind raced. I thought of ugly lesbians, naked old women, and read a passage or two from the Bible, all in an attempt to wither my weinie. None of it worked.

“I could find a hammer to break the plastic!” I thought. It didn’t occur to me that I would also break my wang. The only thing that swayed me from that solution was the realization that the hammer was in the kitchen, two floors beneath me, and I would have to walk past J to get to it. There was no way in hell I was going to explain the predicament to her.

I wrapped myself, and the giant mass  of plastic and rubber at my groin, in a robe and waddled down the hall to my study. Finding a pair of scissors, I reasoned that I could cut the rubber gasket away to free myself. Then I realized there was nothing but skin on the other side and one false move and I’d have to join a support group founded by John Wayne Bobbitt.

By this point, some amount of time had passed and I was having a major panic attack. I was beginning to think the only way I was getting out of that pump was to go to the hospital and have it removed.

“How will I explain that bill to my parents when they get it?”

“What if I get pulled over by the police on the way to the hospital?”

“How can I even face them at the hospital? This is some urban legend shit right here!”

Too mortified to even think of having to share what I was going through with anyone, I decided to try once more to get it off. The throbbing had subsided some, and I figured that either my dick had fallen asleep or it had shrank a bit and the pressure had relieved itself somewhat. I put on a slathering of lotion and pulled hard at the base of the pump. Miraculously, it flew off and landed on the carpet a few feet away.

My unit was dark red, veins bulging as if they might burst any moment. I was so relieved that a visit to the hospital had been averted that I didn’t even care. Over the next few days, a nasty bruise developed at the base of my penis. Dark purple, then fading away over the next few weeks to varying shades of green and yellow. I guess that’s what I got for wondering if the pump worked…

 

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18 responses

29 04 2008
Little Miss

That’s hilarious. You amaze me that you can so nonchalantly discuss such embarassing and personal catastrophes on here. But it’s so well written – maybe too well – that I could imagine you going through these shenanigans.

30 04 2008
Kat

I found your blog only recently but now I gotta delurk and tell you that I have just snorted coffee through my nose and on my shirt while reading your post.

Even though I will now walk around in work with a coffee stain on my blouse it was well worth it. Thanks for the laugh.

30 04 2008
The Vinyl Villager

Kat…glad to get your morning off to a good start. Thanks for stopping by.

30 04 2008
The Vinyl Villager

Lil Miss…had it happened yesterday, I couldnt talk about it. But once years have passed, I’m only left with the humor of the situation. Glad you enjoyed!

30 04 2008
Murray Trillionaire

Is your penis in therapy?

30 04 2008
The Vinyl Villager

It was, but its since been cured. LOL

30 04 2008
trailerparkbarbie

OMG! I just spewed Diet Rite Pure Zero red raspberry soda (or as we white trash call it…pop) all over my keyboard which already has a fouled up “k” and “s”!

I know you told me to stop reading but that’s like telling an obese (fat is un-pc) chick to order only a salad at a buffet bar!

I hope you’re happy with your little wang stories, young man. I just read this to your cuzzin, TrailerparkSkipper over the phone. She dang near wrecked from laughing so hard!!!

This is truly one of the funniest things that I have ever read. A classic!
Ya know, I did a post called “Ow Ow Ow, My Poontang Hurts” and it has had over 4,000 readers. I bet your weinee post will past that number.

My sides are hurting from laughing.

30 04 2008
The Vinyl Villager

I read that one!! It gave me the courage to write this one actually.

30 04 2008
trailerparkbarbie

awww….ain’t that sweet. My poontang was your inspiration! Wait….that’s weird even for WV standards!

2 05 2008
Maxine

You sad, sick, fuck. I simply adore you. You realize, of course, once we meet in person, I’ll immediately start snickering and won’t be able to stop. Ever.

I however, was in a bathhouse once, in one of the really dark rooms, and my little rubber cock ring was pulling on a couple of pubes, so I reached down to adjust it, but found it to be a bit slick and it shot off into the dark.

All I heard was, “Ouch!”

I’ve never been back to that particular establishment.

5 05 2008
Red

aaahahhaa! Sorry, can’t help but snicker. Im sure it hurt like fuck . . So do we get pictures?
Reminds me of when my brother-in-law got his cock n’ balls suctioned into a mason jar .. yeah, i may have to do a post about that.

25 02 2009
Jen Jen

You didn’t smell the weinie roast goin on in that tannin bed? lol. They got hotdog buns on sale at Albertsons ya know….

27 12 2010
Jason

How did I ever miss this post? Maybe I hadn’t discovered you yet. Now this, my friend, is some seriously outstanding writing!

6 06 2013
jean

My most embarrasing moment with my dick was when I was posing for a feature in a magazine. The photographer’s wife had to pose with me, I was naked she was not and she wanted to pretend that I was a burglar and so in the picture she got behind me. Ok I thought and my dick was proud of being taken pics of when she then produced a large kitchen knife and put on arm around my throat and with the hand of the other arm she placed the sharp blade against the base of my shaft. Her husband loved it and took several pictures. My dick just got harder. How silly is that, the thing risked becoming a Bobbit case and instead of shrinking, it beamed at the threat of it.

Does that make sense?

11 06 2013
The Vinyl Villager

It does! A boner is a natural reaction to fear Im told.

12 05 2014
daddywank

Love the story! I had a similar experience (sunburn dick syndrome) and can feel your pain. Great story! Thoroughly laughed hard

12 05 2014
daddywank

Reblogged this on daddywank and commented:
Read this story and had a good laugh.

12 05 2014
daddywank

Love the story! I had a similar sun burnt dick thing happen to me in Vegas, so I feel your pain! Great work and great story telling. Keep em up!

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