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When I walk in to my dad’s office to find him with his cock in his hands and his pants on the ground, I could immediately tell that I had made a terrible mistake. From that point on I began to observe all the signs and symptoms of that horrible affliction. I felt deeply responsible for the pain my father was struggling with and wanted to find a solution. Upon extensive research I concluded that there was only one cure for blue balls: dad’s balls needed to be drained immediately, and it was my duty to make sure that it happens.