She saw my balls were swollen. She hushed me from worrying about the ache. She made me feel like I was a good boy. A special boy. She praised me. She encouraged me. She was grateful and smiled. I didnāt need to worry. Itās ok. She knew. They knew.
She said she was glad and happy to know couples like us. She was in control the entire time. I was well behaved and compliant. I listened. I soaked up what she said. I was earnest and not using this opportunity to expose my dripping and denied dick and smooth swollen balls. I stuck to my script - except when I veered into a whine about not getting to spurt anymore, and only leaking and spilling out cum. She did interrupt me. She knew it was difficult. She saw my struggle. She saw that intensity but I also exhibited quiet pride about my submission.
She was grateful to have an open conversation with a man that wasnāt the standard trope, had no swagger, and didnāt make jokes or unwanted comments about her. We were non-conforming and somewhat unique. She was grateful for the glimpse into an interesting dynamic. She was intrigued. She asked questions about my wife and wanted to know how my wife became wise to ignore the common myths about male arousal. She figured my wife was in the medical industry because she knew better. She knew I did not āneedā to cum, and that āblue ballsā were not dangerous or unhealthy.
I could have made our meeting about me. I could have become fully erect, and not just plump and juicy. I could have ogled her as she examined me. I kept my eyes averted and my hands behind my back. She was grateful to get to know my wife a little bit, and how well mannered I was.
I understand that Iām writing wank fodder of a sortsā¦ or writing that makes one cage feel tight. But I was so buoyed by that experience. It was entirely female led. I was surrounded by capable women in positions of authority, using their knowledge to take care of men. I felt supported and appreciated for who I was. There was no argument, no worry, no concern. Her nurse smirked , put her hand on my shoulder and told me that she knew my wife was in charge. And that was ok. I
She clearly enjoyed men. She enjoyed her work.
Iāve met women who have an active distaste for a submissive man. Iāve met women who cringe. Iāve seen the real discomfort in their eyes, and tone of voice. I throw some people off when they get to realize how I am.
It was the most amazing experience. I might have harbored a secret wish to be given some words of warning or concern over my long term orgasm denial. Or questions about my lack of stamina, and negative opinions from my inferences to my denial of PIV. No thrusting, no spurting, no explosive orgasms for me. Just gentle spilling and slow flowing gooey messes for me.
She was grateful to know us, and that I truly did not try to make a medical exam a sexual thing. My concerns was about my long term health living with swollen balls from constant arousal (tease and denial) after a vasectomy. My wife did not want to inadvertently cause me unrelenting pain. I didnāt want to feel pain in my cut and sealed vas, or pain in the epididymes or orichitis.
I didnāt mention it but I didnāt want the tiny titanium clips to interfere with ball squeezing, and CBT, nor wearing chastity. I was not brave enough to take the chastity cage out of my jacket pocket, and show her what I had worn every day over the prior 90 days. I was not brave enough to ask her about erection denial, and its safety.
I didnāt want to hear her contraindications to chastity. And so I kept to questions over long term orgasm denial and constant arousal.
Soā¦ I did not directly expose a specific kink. And I do feel she was grateful for how I stuck to the questions I sent her, and let her lead the entire experience. And grateful for my candor and openness to learn about an alternative sexual lifestyle from a real couple. This was a special unique experience.
I felt like a very good boy. That made me so happy.
