A Comedy of AR's

Chapter 14
CHAPTER 114 I’m Feeling Dizzy

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CHAPTER  114

At lunch time, I related my experience with Sally to my teammates.  They all seemed to be alarmed for me.

Goro said, “Amigo, that bitch is nuts.  You’ve got to get yourself out of that mess.”

Captain X said, “Derrek, we’re serious.  Sally Sukkemsilli is the school stalker.  Why did you start with her?”

“I just made a harmless comment when Starline and Duchess were picking on her.”

“Dude,” said X, “there’s no such thing as ‘harmless’ with Sally.  You need to dump her fast.”

Just then, Randy Pantz sat down next to me with a package wrapped in cellophane.

“Hey guys,” he said excitedly, “my mom made brownies for the team.  Here’s one for you, Derrek … and one for you, Goro … Go ahead, pass ‘em around the table.”

“Thanks, Randy,” I complemented. “I love brownies.  This one’s really good.  Tell your mom we said thanks.”

“Sure will,” he replied.

My teammates had sent me a lot of warnings about Sally during lunch and I began contemplating my options of how to break up with her without making her too angry.

But for now, we had to give our oral reports in health class about particular parts of human anatomy.  I was assigned testicles.  For some reason, I wasn’t surprised … but I would do my best to get through it with a minimum of audience hilarity.

I started with the epididimyses (which I was familiar with from my physical.) “Some people mistake them for lumps,” I said, “but they’re actually the tubes that transport sperm to the vas deferens.”

As I stood in front of the class, something didn’t feel right.  I was a slight bit dizzy and my body felt warmer than normal.  I didn’t think I was getting a temperature, but I just wanted to finish my assignment and sit down.

I stated, “Each testicle is divided into parts called lobules. Each lobule contains tiny U-shaped tubes called seminiferous tubules. There are about 800 seminiferous tubules tightly coiled within each testicle.”

I began to hear some of my classmates giggling, but I don’t think it was because of the subject matter.  I think it was my bodily movements they were arousing their humor.  I was starting to feel ‘wobbly’, kind of like a drunkard … but I couldn’t help it.  Something was definitely wrong.  The dizziness and ‘heat’ increased.

Duchess Hartless was sitting in the first seat, directly in front of where I was standing as I faced the class.  She smiled and said, “Am I getting you nervous, Derrek?”

Maybe she was right because I immediately developed an involuntary, but very pronounced errection … adding to my embarrassment.

I struggled on.  “The testicles are protected by an outer covering called the tunica albuginea.”

“Protected?” said Duchess.  “If I kick you in the balls right now, I don’t think they’re going to offer you much protection.”

That got the whole class laughing.  But not me.  I was definitely ‘out of sorts’.  Something was wrong with me.  I was becoming less aware of my surroundings.  I fought against whatever it was.  My penis was starting to hurt really bad, like it was too hard … like I had blue balls similar to the time in St. Thomas right before I created the blob.

I forced myself to continue speaking even though, mentally, I was starting to lose it.

“In order to crush a testicle,” (I didn’t even like the words I was saying) “it would take a force of 50 pounds to break the tunica albuginea covering.”

“I think we should test that theory on you, Derrek,” Duchess added to her already unfair harassment.”

I was now starting to fade out.  This was terrible.  I wasn’t in complete control of my body anymore.  I wanted to grab my errection because of the pain, but strained to keep my hands away.  I should have just stopped right there and run out of the classroom and down to the nurse’s station.

Stupidly, I tried to go on.  “The average male will release about 300 million sperms in one ejaculation.”

At that exact moment, I felt like I was hyperventilating.  My breathing was fast, and the light-headedness was more severe.  Maybe not enough blood or oxygen was getting to my brain.

I remembered this feeling.  Indeed, it felt like what I had in St. Thomas.  I had to fuck something.  That was not a conscious thought.  The real me was no longer in control.  I wanted to black out and fall to the floor but my body had other ideas.

Portions of my next actions were to be told to me later.  I don’t really remember much.  I leaned forward and nearly collapsed upon Duchess Hartless.  She was trapped in her student desk because the modular desk was closed off on the right side.

As Duchess began screaming, I unzipped my pants and pulled out a monstrously engorged erection and starting pumping it with my right hand.  This all must have happened very fast because no one tried to stop me. 

Even our Health class instructor, Norton Bimbo, couldn’t come around from his desk quickly enough to stop the inevitable.

I reached climax in seconds and splattered ejaculate into the girl’s face and hair.  The entire class erupted in horror while Coach Bimbo grabbed my left arm and the back of my shirt.  I then fell to the floor.

Bimbo then grabbed a handful of my hair and managed to force me up to my feet, while I vaguely recall him telling me, “You’ll be expelled for this.”

He started leading me out the door as I caught a brief glance at the horrified faces of my friends, Madeline and Hoshiko.  What could they have thought of me now?

Bimbo made another disparaging remark as he dragged me down the hallway.  “I knew it … You’re as much trouble as your mother.”

My insides were getting worse.  I honestly thought I was going to die.  When we got to the school office, he let go of me and I collapsed to the floor in front of a wide-eyed principal.

Bimbo didn’t mince words.  “This boy jacked off in my health class.  He needs to be expelled today.”

I wasn’t dead yet.  There were survival instincts that began to kick in … and I called out in a sand-papery voice, “I’ve been poisoned.”

Principal Tiffany Glass asked the coach.  “Have you called 911?”

“No,” he answered.  “This just happened seconds ago.”

“9-1-1, What is your emergency?”

“This is Principal Glass of Sandusky Middle School.  I have a student who may be poisoned.  He needs an ambulance at our main entrance.  Please hurry.”

“They’re on their way, Ma’am.”

While the principal was phoning 9-1-1, I pulled out my folding phone from my back pocket and speed-dialed Sammantha.  She answered right away.

“What’s up?”

I took a deep breath and relayed my plight, “Code 8, school office, I’ve been poisoned.”

Sammantha was direct.  “Have they called emergency?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be right over, sweety.  Hang in there.”

(Code 8 was our signal that I had some kind of emergency other than with water.)

The principal supported my head and asked, “Derrek, do you remember if you ate anything unusual today that might have caused this?”

I answered with the first thing that popped into my head was, “Maybe Sally’s cupcakes?”

“Can you sit up, honey?” asked the school nurse, Gentel Farmer.  “I’ll take your blood pressure.”

I cooperated, but her reaction had me damn scared.

“Holy shit!” the nurse reacted with alarm.  “50 over 35 ?  You’ve got severe hypotention.”  I heard her whisper to the principal ‘this is life threatenting’.  Then she turned back to me.   “Derrek, listen to me.  You’re not going to die.  I want you to lay down, cross your legs, and raise them … higher than your heart.”

(I’m not going to die?  That’s encouraging.  I hope she was serious.)

“Ok, honey,” Nurse Farmer said.  “Now I want you to make two fists and clench your buttocks, like you don’t want to poop.”  Then she looked at the principal.  “Dr. Glass, can you hand me that cup of coffee on your desk?”

The nurse had me sip the rest of the cup while I lay on my back.  She seemed like she knew her stuff.

Doors suddenly slammed open and in burst Sammantha and the Fire Department’s rescue squad with a gurney on wheels. 

“How you doing, sweety,” she probed.

I looked up and strained to smile.  “Nurse Farmer says I’m not going to die.”

“Cool … I like her optimism.”

The paramedics rolled me into the ambulance and they allowed Sammantha to stay with me on the ride to Buffalo Mercy Hospital.  They got me started with a shot of epinephrine (from an ‘epy’ pen) and whatever else is helpful to raise blood pressure.

“We’re going to get a blood draw sample, Derrek.  Can you make a fist?”

When we entered the emergency room we both had to parch our lips (to keep from laughing, even though I still felt like I was almost dying.)  The place was quite familiar.

The last time I was here, I was an eleven-year-old girl who needed to have a cucumber extracted from her vagina.  I hated having my legs spread in the stirrups.  And Sammantha was a boy (with my body) who had to have a colonoscopy to remove a cucumber in his butt.  I kept thinking how stupid we were.

Mercy Hospital was a very professionally run operation and they treated me as their number one priority because severe hypotention (low blood pressure) can cause dizziness, fainting, or even death.  (I guess I already checked off the first two boxes.)

They wheeled me directly into a small operating room where several doctors were waiting for me.

A masked physician got close to my face.  “Derrek, I’m Doctor Handy Gauze.  I’m going to get you started on an IV of Norepinephrine and Dapagliflozin.  These drugs will help raise your blood pressure … Nurse, what’s he at now?”

“60 over 40.”

“Still way too low … Derrek, we’re going to pump your stomach and get the bad stuff out of you.”

I groggily asked, “Will it hurt?”

“Not at all.  We’ll give you a topical anesthesia so you don’t gag. The tube will go down your throat and suction out whatever’s there … Nurse, let’s get all his clothes off in case he needs a bed pan.”

I was naked and cold again.  They got me set up quickly, raising my back and head to 45 degrees, and inserted the tube down my throat and into my stomach … although I couldn’t feel anything.  The nurse threw a gown over my privates.

Another man in a white lab coat walked into the room and handed Dr. Gauze a slip of paper.  “Here’s your blood sample, doctor … not good.  The boy had ingested 500 milligrams of sildenafil.

“Jesus Christ,” Dr. Gauze exclaimed.  “That’s five times the normal adult dosage of Viagra.”