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

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,