'Madam, Me and It' - Part II - Reflections on the Beginning

Reflections on the Beginning

There is a constant dull ache... down there. The doctor forewarned and I find that hot baths are palliative. So I do my self inspection and it appears the purple shade of my scrotal sac has not deepened... but my observation may be tainted by wishful thinking. If there is permanent vascular damage as with the nerves and vas deferens, the doctor has ‘assuaged’ me by assuring that her castrating knife will be quick and painless. A woman’s manner of offering comfort... ‘it will not hurt, merely affect the remainder of your life’ I can’t help characterizing her words attempting to sooth.

Next I step into the tub. Normally I avoid hot baths as extended intense heat is bad for the sperm count. Such irony. There is now no count to impede.

As I lie back and soak, my thoughts percolate.

I suppose it is inevitable that my kink, my warped sexual drive, should bring problems. But at age thirty five being neutered has not been one of the problems envisioned. Being ‘outed’ to vanilla friends and business acquaintances has been of most concern... telltale welts and lash marks inadvertently displayed in the locker room. Blackmail or extortion another possibility. But in now being self employed, disclosure would not result in significant impairment to my paycheck, just the possibility of some strained client relationships... which can be ameliorated. So I have put aside that as a concern. Whatever the ammunition... the blackmailing cannon balls... fire away as far as I am concerned. It is the privilege of being single.

But now there is this situation. With apprehension I can manage to achieve an erection. I have strained to ‘test’ things out, masturbation being low on my agenda of late. And I can only imagine what I will spew assuming I can get everything working. The doctor and her ‘rampaging bull’ comment remain in my thoughts. Perhaps it is not the subconscious that brings diminished desire but conscious thoughts of ‘why bother?’. Perhaps deep within one succumbs and becomes comfortable being a steer.

So many thoughts and finally there comes to mind Madam and the beginning of the end of my masculinity... normal masculinity.  

To blow off steam, pent up horniness, I have utilized three outlets... mundane masturbation... an occasional massage, with the so termed ‘happy ending’, of course... and professional dominatrixes. I have always desired to befriend a girl who understands the dynamics of sexual power exchange but despite all the internet sites, the ‘sturm and drang’ of personal ads and other social media, it’s not that easy. Lots of different genres, facets and subsets in the world of D/s. So I have found it more facile to visit a pro, plunk down cash, outline a general scenario and go with it.

Sometimes it works. Sometimes it’s merely acceptable time spent... and then there is time spent with ‘Madam’.

Yes, with me there is this thing for aloof commanding women... and Madam is just that. Whereas in the run of the mill professional D/s scene touching is eschewed, I quickly learned Madam enjoys ‘close work’... hands and fingers. And her touch had come to thrill...