Masturbating for money: Meet Dan White, the student sperm donor

Most people work their way through uni, but I decided to get by jerking off into a bottle. 

For many of my fellow students, working their way through uni is tough, time and labour intensive, and no fun at all.

But I’ve never been one to do things by the book, and the thought of serving tossers in nightclubs was not one I even bothered entertaining.

So when I came across the news that Birmingham was welcoming the first sperm-donation clinic in the UK, my mind was already well and truly made up:

I was going to donate sperm for money.

They call me ‘Sperm Daddy’ nowadays

The process was simple.

I got in touch with the clinic via a quick telephone interview and online questionnaire. Having proved my credentials in sperm production, things were set to begin.

With much trepidation, I walked into Birmingham Women’s Hospital for a screening appointment to donate sperm.

To say I was anxious would be an understatement. I’ve never had to perform under clinical pressure before, and the idea of masturbating in a glorified disabled toilet wasn’t doing my libido any favours.

I found my way to the sperm donation ward, and was ushered into a consultation room with a stressed but friendly female doctor.

Birmingham Women’s Hospital: where the magic happens…

Sitting down in a chair that wouldn’t have been out of place in an execution chamber, the doc was quick to tell me even though the average male sperm count is 20 million, only men with a sperm count of around 40 million would be accepted to produce the ten donations.

She also told me of the 264 men she had tested this year, only EIGHT men had been deemed suitable to go onto donate.

It was a tough pill to swallow. For all of you who think you can bag an easy £350 by being a professional wanker, think again.

I was told the sample given today would be used as the “measuring stick” for the acceptance or rejection of my sperm.

After a briefly awkward moment in which I found out I was supposed to have abstained from ejaculating for “three or four days” (I hadn’t), I filled in the remaining paperwork.

She then asked me some in-depth questions about my personal life and my family’s medical history.

Oh, and it’s worth mentioning that although I won’t be elegible to pay any child support to the children I might father, if there are mistakes or lies in my paperwork they would be entitled to sue me.

And at the age of 18 they would also be free to contact me – it’s like the doctor knew exactly what I wanted to hear.

This cup was to be my partner for my 40 minute donation sesh

Finally, the questions subsided. It was time.

We walked out of the office together. Down the corridor, the doctor seemed to find it necessary to say it’s “only big so you don’t miss”.

As I was soon to discover, it really is difficult to wank into a cup even with that much room for error.

She showed me into a medium-sized donation chamber which I silently dubbed “The Chamber of Secretion”, and explained I was to maintain an erection for 20 minutes before ejaculating (no pressure then).

On her way out she pointed out the “adult materials” I was to use to pleasure myself, and then left me to crack on.

Professor Cumbledore, Headmasturbator of Nobwarts School of Jizzardry

I slipped out of my clothes faster than a rat falling down a drainpipe and made my way to the stack of adult materials. Picking up the weighty folder, I sat down and prepared to get comfortable.

The porn was terrible, and I was very conscious of how many men must have had to sit in my spot and use the provided “adult materials”.

This definitely made it incredibly difficult to maintain an erection, and I soon found myself having to search out porn using the 1G of internet I had on my phone.

I finally managed to squeeze out about a teaspoon and a half of “sample”, while trying to balance my phone, the donation cup, and my half-mast implement all together.

At this point, the donation itself looked embarrassing in comparison to the size of the cup, so I decided to try and double-up.

Sadly, this proved impossible due to the combination of my pepperamified penis and the lack of arousal provided by the room’s mediocre offerings. So, after five minutes, I gave up.

Should of followed the three to four day protocol

I gingerly put my pants back on, followed by the rest of my clothes.

With cum receptacle in one hand, alcoholic hand gel in the other, I waited outside the doctor’s room, surprised at the sense of seediness that had overcome me.

On arrival, a new male doctor told me the sperm sample I had provided passed the count – meaning I was now a fully certified wanker.

The sperm would now be used in a test-freeze and would take a further six to 12 months before the donation process could begin. At this point I would be assigned a psychiatrist before I could begin milking it for money.

I doubt they keep it next to the Ben & Jerry’s

As I left the clinic, I was told to use the back entrance and to do so for future visits.

They do this to keep the donors and patients separate, due to protocol which prohibits them from meeting.

I may have left £350 better off, but if I had been feeling seedy before, it was nothing to how I felt afterwards.

Will Dan’s sperm be up to the challenge? Part II coming soon.