Wednesday, March 5, 2008

My First Real Domination

I have always been interested in novels short stories, and letters in certain magazines, whose subject was the domination of a male. Over the years I have collected many such publications, and read and re-read them all. My wife knew of my kink, and may have considered it strictly a sexual orientation. We played with it once or twice, but it never went further than that.

After having produced our optimal number of children, she and I discussed the possibility of my undergoing vasectomy. It was a logical choice between that and her having the analogous procedure, since vasectomy was a minor outpatient surgery, and likely to be reversible. But I had another reason. In my readings of mail into sleazy magazines many such pieces dealt with forced castration, forced chastity, forced servitude, mostly kinky fantasies posed as if they were real. After our discussion of this surgical procedure on me I imagined my wife making an appointment for me at the clinic and driving me there. In a semi-private examination room she would introduce me to a female doctor who was to do the operation. I was told to undress and lie on the examination table…. You know how the rest of it was supposed to go. No, not castration, vasectomy!

It was in this background when I had to have my annual checkup in order to qualify for a medical group insurance. My wife did make the appointment, but the rest of the subsequent events deviated from my fantasy to a certain extent. For example, there was not to be a vasectomy this time.

I arrived at the appointed time, and waited with all the sick people in the waiting room. When the female nurse/assistant summoned me, I watched her shapely ass as she lead me down the hall into an examination room. She left me with the words, “Your doctor’s assistant will be with you shortly.”

Some minutes later after a knock on the closed door a young woman walked in and introduced herself, “Hi, I’m Delilah, physician’s assistant. I will be giving your physical this time.”

I invented this name replace the real one in order to protect her privacy. She was not what I would call exactly my type, namely, she was not as generously endowed as my wife. Still, she was attractive. She reminded me of a sleek healthy animal: muscular and lean with just the right amount of fat to give her femininity. My recent memory of the vasectomy fantasy kicked in and I felt a little strange because of the sudden potential for fantasy meeting reality.

She took notes as we both sat and I was answering her questions. After the interview she asked me to remove my shirt so that she can listen to all those gurgly internal sounds.

I was a few years older than she, but I was in good shape besides being handsome and charming. OK, at least I thought so. I removed the shirt and she did the listening, front and back. In the chilly air-conditioned room I felt the heat of her body on my chest. I smelled her clean breath. Her faint scent of a perfume lingered around me. I had a feeling that I was making too much of all that, but I just relaxed and enjoyed the moment anyway.

At this point I may be disappointing you for not providing the details. Suffice it to say that within the subsequent few minutes she had me walking between two walls of the room as she sat on a stool a few feet away watching me. I was in my natural state, not even a stitch on. All of this was professionally executed, not even a hint of a come-on, sex, or such. Still, somehow she had me undress without a protest one article of clothing at a time. She had a presence that did not need threats or promises. I also admit that the little guy behaved admirably. He was stirring, but did not betray my emotions.

When she was done with the medical examination she left smiling. I was left with the feeling that I did not, and I still don’t know how she did this. I related this to MW at some point, and she seemed amused by it.

I thank “Delilah” for a wonderful memory of my first domination by a female. She did suggest that I begin jogging to strenghten my heart at “my age.” I did start the next day.


Anonymous said...

I had a physical by a female doctor this very week. In fact the previous doctor doing my physical (job change - different medical plan) was also a woman. Much more pleasant at minimum than having a male doctor going through the gory details.

In both cases I was sitting only in my shorts on the bench when the doctor came in. There's a mixture of purely professional atmosphere in the room for me, along with trying to capture the somewhat delicious incongruity of being in a room with a fully-clothed, attractive doctor (both cases) while I'm in my underwear, and eventually less.

First doctor did a 'rear end' exam only. It literally must have been her second time as she seem nervous to make sure I knew what she was talking about when she refered to a 'digital exam'. I thought it was amusing, with all the 'digital' technology nowadays, that the term would actually be referring to her finger.

I hoped she would become somewhat authoritative as she snapped on the gloves, but instead she was nervously deferential and kept referring to me as 'Sir'. Still there was a surrendering feeling of facing the table, pulling my shorts down to my knees on her command, and stretching out face down while she had the liberty of an unobstructed, and unobserved, view of the proceedings. I must admit to being aroused by the recollection for days after.

Second time with same Dr. a couple years later, but completely different. Now she was a smooth, breezy professional. The exam happened so quickly, and with such detachment on her part, that I hardly remember it.

Fast foward to this week and new Doctor. Dressed very nicely in skirt, showing cleavage, she was talkative, attentive and charming as she came into the room. When the gloves came on after all the interviewing and conventional poking around she asked me to walk to her at a stool as I held a folded white sheet/cover for privacy. Sort of a comical pretense as she lifted the sheet from the bottom to see whatever she wanted, and I then moved it aside almost completely as we talked about some detail. She turned my member over looking for lumps and then, before I knew it, surprised me with a quick feel-around of my testicles. Nothing painful, just a quick handling and separating with her fingers, apparently to check that two normal items were in their proper place. Then it was on to the press a finger on each side and ask me to 'cough' test.

Finally I was ordered to turn around and shuffle back to the exam table, underwear around my ankles. "Bend all the way forward" I was told. I was expecting the pressure next, the way 'digital' exams normally feel, but to my surprise the insertion was very painful! Wow! What was she doing?! It was as if she was pushing a sugar cube up ahead of her finger. The exam started so quickly after the stroll that, thinking about it later, I figured she musn't have lubed up the glove. I tensed up and almost yelped at her to stop, but stayed with it, my hips having risen slightly off the table. I found myself flashing, strangely, on how if this happened in a prison-like situation how pissed I would be and ready to fight. It was zero eroticism at this point.

Later I wondered about her point of view through all this. Charming, talkative through the time where I dropped my last stich in front of her. Then seeing me strain on the table as she calmly drove her finger in for a look around. She didn't seem concerned at all, if she sensed my discomfort.

What must be her private thoughts throughout the exam (apart from pure professionalism of course)? How does she describe her day at work to her closest friends. Or to the other ladies in the office who saw me walk in and out? I would be fascinated to get a glimpse of her feelings and impressions.

Susan's Pet said...

You have some interesting thoughts on this very personal physical examination.

I, too, would prefer a female doctor in some ways, although I have had a very good relationship with a male version over many years. I will do anything to avoid a "digital" rectal examination with him or anyone else.

Picture myself in the same scenario as you: female, strictly medical professional. I will feel stressful, somewhat embarrassed. Any pain involved is asexual. I am anxious for the scenario to be over so that I can get dressed and the hell out of there.

In contrast, picture myself with the same female where the purpose is not the rectal examination but of a bit of power play. As you, I am without clothes, she is dresses as she wishes. I put up with pain if she decides to impart that to me. I am there for her amusement and pleasure. The pain I receive may be hard to bear, but it goes through a translation process so it comes out on the threshold of pleasure or more. I don't want it to end.

Even though she is doing exactly the same as in the first scenario, the feelings and results are totally different. The mind can be a wonderful sex organ.

Anonymous said...

Yes, exactly. The 'power play' and 'for her amusement' are the factors where the energy lies for me. Not only for the doctor, but for the other ladies in the office who see the fully-clothed and in control man walking in to the room, seeing him walk out in same form later, but picturing in their minds what obviously happens at some point in-between. Going throught the reality you realize you don't know the thoughts of others unfortunately, and so it largely becomes your own projection of what they or the doctor think.

There was an interesting experience with my wife however when I got back. After satisfying her concerns to know everything the doctor said about the blood test, diet recommendations, health risks, etc. she finally asked wryly if I had the exam 'back there'. When I answered in the affirmative she immediately let out a sort of snorting laugh/giggle, the sort of gut level response I'd imagine she'd have joking around with girlfriends when she was younger. We didn't talk about it further because I figured her innermost reaction had already been revealed - any verbalizing would end up with her layering rationale or correctness, hiding the true wind vane I really wanted to see. But it was fun to hear her snort about it. And it makes me think many women have that reaction available at some level.

I was surprised from the reality check of the experience however how rapidly pain took me out of the 'having fun mindframe' since the doctor was in a friendly and bright mood, almost approaching the edge of being flirtatious. Wasn't at all a dry professional working under harsh flourescent lights. I would have visualized absorbing the pain she was causing, but when it hit it popped me right out of that mindset.

I didn't say before, but I also had the vasectomy fantasy you described at one point! Maybe a more diabolical version would be that it all starts innocently; a supportive spouse plans to go along to the office because she knows her husband isn't looking forward to the knife procedure. The fact that it's a female doctor is only an abstraction to them when the appointment is made.

But once the three get settled in the examing room the doctor makes a casual remark to lighten things up like "I see we're here to get snipped today". Suddenly the husband senses the trangle realign, with the wife figuratively shoulder to shoulder with the doctor in amusement about what is about to happen. He feels the walls close in. He is the subject. He is about to get done. A female is going to take it away from him while his wife watches. Yikes! I bet there's someone, somewhere out there who has had that situation creep up on them without seeing it coming.

Susan's Pet said...

My fantasy of forced vasectomy, etc., will remain only that. Not that I spend much time on it, but in context it was good.

However, the "me naked, she fully clothed" scenario is daily experienced with us. When I am at home and in private areas of the estate I am required to be without clothes. The only items I am allowed to wear sometimes are to protect me from the weather when outside, and shoes or boots I need when I venture into the sticks.

My nakedness is accentuated when she often has me wear something to show my status of a pet or a kept lover: some chastity device or other item to make me realize that I am following her orders even when she is not near. This appears to give her a way to spend less time on me, yet keep me thinking otherwise.

My wife is not shy about her being in the nude around me, she just prefers something on her in general.