I am the luckiest dumbass ever to live. So I had the weekend at home to myself. My flatmate had gone away, a little me-time was scheduled. Now, I like to experiment. I'd heard about sounding (sticking things into the urethra) and thought I'd give it a go. Initial experiments were unsuccessful- chopsticks were a little large for my virgin pee-hole. No big deal, I'm sure I can find something else.Now, a little history. Do you know what Buckyballs are? They are a type of office toy, really popular a couple of years back. They are small, spherical, strong magnets. Pretty neat, they can be combined into all sorts of cool shapes. Also, they form into a lovely string.Can you see where this is going?Well, wouldn't you know it, a string of buckyballs slides up the urethra just perfectly. Like it was made for it. It's a beautiful thing. I pass away a happy afternoon plumbing the depths; these things can go a long way! And the further they go, believe me, the better it feels.Readers. Readers who have owned Buckyballs. Do you see my error? Do you see how this delicate chain of balls, so exquisitely suited to its purpose, holds my doom?So, evening rolls around. I decide on one last plunge. This cop is a day from retirement. This space miner has discovered a nest of funny-looking eggs. This hitchhiker is rolling up to the Bates Motel. And this is one last plunge. In they go. Ten, twenty, thirty beads. More. Forty? Fifty? I don't count. I don't care. It feels good.I feel at this point I must explain a little more about buckyballs. I have described them as a chain; this is not so. Each ball is separate, only held to the next by its magnetism. And what do magnets love to do? They love to stick together. Remember this. I did not.My last plunge, my final dive continues. Soon, better than half a metre of magnets is inside me. I am through the prostate, through the sphincter, in the bladder. I push on. I hit the top of the bladder. I am possessed. I push on. The buckyballs, the magnets, start to bend and curve back towards themselves. Still, I push on.-click-I hear a sound from deep within me.The sound of two magnets meeting and mating.Suddenly my beautiful chain of balls is a tangled magnetized lump. In my bladder.This is the worst possible thing.But now I have lengthened my tale overlong. Panic stations were activated, rationality and sobrerity returned, and I started to pull. Gently, oh so gently I pulled. This chain, this thin chain of balls was still held together only by magnetism and hope, and now there was resistance. At any moment the chain could break, would break, was certain to break. And if it did, there would be no hope. Nothing short of surgery would remove them.Still the chain held. All the way down, right down to the penis. Did you know, the smallest diameter part of the whole system is the end of the penis? I do. Oh, I do. It stuck. A magnetic lump of steel, a centimetre wide, stuck an inch from freedom. Locked behind my penile gates. The chain broke. Many times, the chain broke. But the blockage was so close to the end that, with care, it could be reattached. Only to break again.Of note here is the pinching. I hope you do not know the pain of a thin layer of penile skin being pinched repeatedly between two powerful magnets. There was blood. Even now it throbs.The end, however, was in sight. The magnet clump was out of the danger zone, the operation zone; it was in my penis. I could control it. I could win. And, with the help of a knife and a ballpoint pen lid, I did.