In his drunken state, uttering the words that you are going to castrate yourself; Thomas had somewhat confidence. But, when he became stone cold sober is when the reality set in: how in the fuck was he going to cut off his own dick?
He stared down at himself and looked at the grotesque mass that wiggled to and fro, spurting and contracting in random moments. He looked to his kitchen counter at the array of butcher knives that were lined up and polished.
"Maybe, I can do just one swift cut and it's all over," he thought to himself.
But, even he knew that wouldn't be the case. There was no way that he could just detach his dick like a piece of tape and then go around as if nothing happened. No, this was going to be bloody and horrendous and if he somehow survived it, traumatizing.
He began with a push pin and poked at his prick, pun intended. A yellowish slime oozed from the tiny pin hole and he gently squeezed it to release more fluid. It definitely hurt, but wasn't as bad as he thought it would. He next took one of the razor blades from his shaving kit and cut a thin line on the shaft of his cock.
The flesh opened like an envelope, displaying the fat and tissue, blood pooling up into a puddle. Cutting open his dick hurt more than just poking it. He set the razor blade down and walked over to his couch, droplets of blood spraying off his cock.
A thought occurred to him. What if he could tie off the circulation and wait for it to rot and fall off? It would take some time, but he thought he could do it. He grabbed a piece of loose rope from one of his junk drawers and tightly made a slip knot around his penis, pulling it tight.
"It's like an ultra tight condom," he thought to himself.
With his tied off cock, Thomas decided to finish his farm duties and went to feed the hens. His walk was disjointed due to the pain, but he could work his way through it gradually. Whenever he bent over and stood up to pick up the feed, he felt the pressure from the rope and a sharp pain shot up into his belly.
After a week and a half of having his member tied into bondage, Thomas could see it turning black and wilting. He poked it with a needle to test it, and it spilled coagulated blood; the chunks, he scraped off with a the top of a penny.
He had no more feeling in his cock. He punched it several times and smashed it against a table and felt nothing. He decided now was the time to finally detach from his infected phallus.
Thomas went to 'Rocket's' stable and gently patted his horse. "We are going to go for a run my friend."
