You sit at the doctor’s office, listening as the doctor gives your beloved man, the light of your life, his diagnosis. The air is heavy around you, tension thick enough to cut with a scalpel. Dr. Jinguji gives his diagnosis: “Your ass is flat. There is nothing we can do about it, I’m sorry."
You let out a single tear, Doppo just looks his usual, stressed self as if he expected the outcome. You beg him, asking if there is anything, anything that he could do. Each plea was met with some variation of ”I’m sorry, there isn’t.”. Yet you still persisted till finally he sighed and made a passing mention of needing a donor that just so happens to have a fat, juicy, luscious, absolutely delicious ass but those are hard to come by.
“How much ass do you need?” you ask, desperate.
Dr. Jinguji remains silent, pensive in thought before sighing. “Moderately juicy could possibly work.” You give him a look and he understands.
Doppo, still lamenting in his misery, does not notice. A small smile lights up his face when he’s informed that you know someone who has a moderately juicy ass, absolutely firm and popping bouncing coins right off of it.
A few weeks later Doppo wakes up from his surgery, scrambling to see you near him and ask how it went. He sees you asleep on the couch and calls your name out softly. You stir from sleep, gifting him with a tender loving smile as you shrug off the jacket working as an impromptu jacket and run over to him.
He freezes seeing your ass.
Your ass was gone.
Horrified he asks what the FUCK just happened to your moderately juicy ass. Dr. Jakurai, still busy noting down the last of Doppo’s paperwork looks at him solemnly and asks: “Who do you think donated their ass to you?”
