Lab-Made Vaginas

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I come bearing good news for you men who always wanted to have sex with a real vagina but without the trimmings.  You know the post-coitus cuddles, the small talk and sometimes the crying.  The good gentlemen over at the science lab or scientist as they like to be called, are now able to make vaginas in a lab!  Smack me in the ass and call me Betty!

I heard that these are just like the real deal, so don’t go asking your potential girlfriend if her vag is real.  It’s not plastic, it’s actually made from the person’s own cells. And by the way, I was only kidding about you perverts being able to purchase your own personal vaginas for in-home use.  So don’t throw out your sex doll just yet.

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My Most Embarrassing, Agonizing and Violating Experience. Ever

Warning:  Blog contains graphic detail of catheter inserted in penis and the odd sexual innuendo.

Today I had the worst experience of my life in terms of pain and discomfort.  I made the mistake of complaining to my doctor about some issues I was having about two months ago with my bladder.  After sending me to see a urologist, I was booked for a Urodynamic Assessment.  Don’t know what that is? You will by the time you are through reading this blog.

I had an idea what I was in for as I read up a bit on it.  I knew something was going to be inserted into my urethra.  I also knew it would cause some pain, but nothing prepared me for what was in store.  Nothing could.

When I checked in, I was sent to a change room to don a robe and gown, much to my dismay.  I always feel a little less of a man when wearing that dreaded gown.  Plus, I had nothing on underneath!  I was sent to sit with a bunch of old timers dressed like I was.  They were all hooked up to IV’s and I suspected were there to have various ‘old timers’ procedures.  There were two women among them and the thought that they too were naked underneath the flimsy cloth made me feel just a bit uncomfortable.

Remember I blogged a while back that I have this fear of having erections at the wrong places, like massage tables etc.?  Here.  Well as I sat crossed-leg, I thought, “What if I get a hard-on and then they come to get me?”  The thought terrified me so much that I was determined not to let that happen.  I started to think of nonsexual things. Like the old timers sitting with me.

I was supposed to report for my procedure with a full bladder and by the time the nurse came to get me, I could barely stand.  I wanted to go! Bad!  She called my name and asked how I was doing and I replied, “I really really want to pee!”

In the room, I sat in visible distress as she went over what was to take place.  She placed a long plastic object on the table and informed me that it was to be used as the probing object.  It would be inserted into the tiny hole in my pee pee and all the way into my bladder.  The thought alone made me ill.

As if it wasn’t bad enough, this young female nurse was the one who was going to administer my torture!  She sent me to lie on the bed while she prepared the tools of her trade.  Lying there, we talked about our lives, The Voice, family, etc.  I was getting rather comfortable with her.  So comfortable that again I thought, “What if I get a hard-on right here?  How embarrassing would that be?”  So I bit my fingers to distract myself.  Then thought of what lay ahead.

Then she was hovering over me, lifting up my robe and gown exposing my privates.  Thanks darling, I needed that. Then she showed me a small pack of antiseptic wipes.  Or was it gel? Not sure.  “I am going to wipe you with this, ok?”  I nodded.  I had no choice as I was at her mercy.

She took hold of my member and gently wiped it.  Then again.  As she wiped the underside where the nerves were, I instantly felt myself reacting to it.  (Come on! I am human! Don’t go judging me!) Oh gosh no! Seriously?  Kill me now!  Please nurse, stop wiping and get on with it!  This was bad.  Down boy! Down! This is the absolutely worst time!

The nurse must have felt the sudden change too because all of a sudden the wipe was out of her hand and replaced by the catheter, like a magician.  And just like a magician, it was suddenly being pushed into my urethra! OH. MY. GOD!

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I knew it was going to be bad but had no clue what bad was.  It felt like a scaly garter snake slithering up my penis!  While she urged me to breathe in and exhale through my mouth, I thrashed and writhed and clenched my fists.  Then I groaned then half screamed. I was in agony.  Distress. Traumatized. Violated.  And I was dying.  I wanted to stop her.  Call it off.  Anything to make her/it go away. I also wanted to kill her and her entire family.  Whatever it took to make this stop.  I hated her!

After what seemed like an eternity in hell, it was all in.  I whimpered inside like a wounded animal.  The violation was not over.  She then inserted another object into my anus as part of the test.  So I was DP’d.  Wow!  Could you say EMBARRASSED?

When it was all done, I told her that it was officially the worst experience of my life.  I have an excellent pain threshold but this was not pain.  This was something else.

Against my better judgement, I went back to work and shared my story.  Well it made me the butt of jokes for the day.  Oh and no pun intended.

 

 

 

 

Friday Folly: Don’t Patronize Me, Doc. And Get Your Hand Outta There!

thI was ready for him when he walked into the room.  “Hi, nice to see you.”  He says.  “I wish I could say the same but I’m not happy to see you.” Was my rehearsed response.  He laughed but I was serious.  If the doctor only knew what was going through my mind…

Seriously doc, I am here for you to  give me a cortisone shot in my shoulder with a big ass needle, should I be happy to see you?  No.  And you shouldn’t be either.  Come to think of it doc, I should never ever be happy to see you.  Ever!  You stick your hand up my butt while fondling my nuts for goodness sake! How disgustingly embarrassing and humiliating is that? Well unless you are into that sort of thing…Then you would be indeed happy to see me.  What? You said it’s not your hand?  Well pardon me for being a tight ass but it sure does feel like your hand.  And you never grab my scrotum while you are inside me?   Doc, please don’t say ‘inside me’.  That’s just wrong.  Makes me cringe.  And you are right, manipulating my balls while digitally testing my anus just seem a bit creepy and unmedicinal.

When you look or peer into my eyes with that gadgety thingy, does your face, especially your mouth, have to be that close to mine?  Seriously? It makes me rather uncomfortable.  What if our lips brushed?  Let me tell you, I would be traumatized for life.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that.  Two men’s lips brushing, that is, not the peering into eyes.  

As you can tell, I am really not too fond of our meetings.  I actually come on my wife’s insistence.   Doc, why do you insist on talking to me while taking my blood pressure? You ask me questions while looking down my throat.  News flash!  I can’t answer you except to make alien-like sounds.  Why don’t you tell me about your family instead?  Actually don’t.  I am quite fine with the silence so don’t feel compelled to start a conversation. Let’s just get this over with as quickly and painless as we can. Dispense with the patronizing chatter. 

Oh, last time you groped my sack, you said you couldn’t feel my nuts and was worried.  Don’t be worried.  My nuts recoiled when you touch me down there.  I recoil too but you never notice. Just like how I clinch my butt cheeks when you try to invade it.  My balls  turtle on you doc!  They recoil somewhere up into my stomach in embarrassment and humiliation.

If the next time you stick your appendage in my exit, I go, “Oooh yeah! That feels good, doc.”  Would you still be happy to see me?

More Friday Follies:

Friday Folly:  World Naked Bike Ride 2013