THE GIVER OF COCKS (futa, kinda slow-sorry)

Story by misfit446

This story was inspired by a real story of a french guy (I think?) that actually grew a new penis on his arm to replace his disfigured one from an accident. This is a little slow at first but the next few chaps should hopefully avenge the slowness at first. Thanks for reading.

THE GIVER OF COCKS

Tracy Morgan just graduated high school a month before. Her grades were better than average, yet no letters of scholarships came. Her mother, Jan, worked at the little town’s liquor store and there was no money for college. Her father? Well, he’ll be in the pen for another twenty years if he doesn’t start more fights.

She investigated the student loan program pamphlets a counselor had given her but didn’t think she could afford to pay it back. So she thought maybe she could get a job for a year, save up her money and then go. Life was never going to be easy for her.

Tracy was a good girl, really. She was a tiny five feet four inch, painfully thin kid who just wanted to belong. When born, her parents discovered IT was a . . .a . . . a hermaphrodite. A THING with both penis and vagina.

Her dad, Billy Ray was so disgusted that he got drunk and wrecked the pick up. Jan cried her eyes out. But when she was feeding that little warm bundle of baby, she noticed those unseeing eyes glowing, sparkling as wet lips suckled on her flowing nipple. Jan fell in love with her baby instantly, no matter what was beneath the diapers.

Billy Ray had to work overtime for two years to get the family back on a financial footing of just above poverty. They didn’t have any insurance. The rental they lived in was old, drafty and overridden with roaches.

After the legal troubles, and Billy Ray getting his driver’s license back, they moved to another rental, this one maybe a year younger than the shack they lived in before. But it was clean, though the smell of ‘old’ was all about.

Tracy grew up with undying love for her mother and body shaking fear of her father. She usually hid when Billy Ray got home, burying herself in her books.

Going to school seemed to be a relief for Tracy, to get away from the stress and fear of her home.

In second grade the family got a call from a researcher. Her parents talked about the call. Billy Ray was pleased to know that they would be paid good money for little Tracy to be poked and prodded, photographed and studied.

Jan was more fearful of the cost on Tracy. So the fateful night came at dinnertime. Jan made franks and beans, Tracy’s favorite as her parents had pork chops. Billy Ray downed a beer before the discussion started. He wanted that money and wanted to convince Tracy it was a good thing for them.

Her mother broached the subject first. “Um honey, we got a call today from a doctor.”

Tracy looked up. “It’s nothing bad. Actually, it’s very good. They want to do a study on you.”

“Me? Why?” asked Tracy, swallowing some milk.

“Listen kid, they want to pay us to study you and your . . . your . . . well, how you are,” Billy Ray growled and popped another beer.

“Tracy, it could be a good thing for all of us, but I want you to think about it first.”

“Think nothing. Just say yes. That’s all,” Billy Ray offered and took a healthy swig of brew.

“Billy Ray, I want her to make the decision.” Billy Ray eyed his wife hard then took another bite of food.

“So Tracy? What do you think? You will get picked up after school every day and the nice doctors will do tests. Then you come home and have dinner. Just like normal,” Jan explained.

Tracy shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

Billy Ray almost choked on his buzz bomb. It was too easy.

“Really honey baby?” he asked.

Tracy nodded and continued to eat.

That night, Tracy laid in her bed. She would do anything to get out of that house, away from the mess, the stink and her father.

The following Monday, after school, she was picked up in a big white van and driven to a warehouse outside of town. The metal siding was rusting and dirty. Tracy at first loved riding in the big van all by herself, but now felt apprehension about going into such a scary place.

The driver helped little seven year old Tracy out and soon was meeting the core team. A nice young doctor, her name Patty, and the others, Jake, Frank and Millie. All smiles, all young and determined to get their study done.

Tracy did ask about why they wanted to study her. Patty smiled. “Because you are special.” Tracy liked that and liked Patty a lot.

That first day was just asking questions, getting answers, and taking some blood. That Tracy didn’t like, but Patty encouraged her. At dinner that first night her parents showered her with questions. Tracy just answered what she could or shrugged when she couldn’t.

The rest of that first week there were wires hooked up to machines, urine analysis and MRI’s.

She took home the check to her parents. Billy Ray opened the envelope and whooped it up. “G

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