A couple of years back when we first got into this whole malarkey, my wife and I were discussing protection and peace of mind, in doing so I raised the issue of me having the snip. It made perfect sense to me, I wanted my wife to come off the pill as she'd been on it so long which she agreed with, and I also felt that doing this would put any of our future play friends minds at rest as while condoms are great they are not quite 100% successful. I have living proof of that, she's called my wife. I therefore decided to go ahead with it.
The first thing to note if you are thinking of this, is that when you go to visit your GP to tell them of your decision, they will be all for it. At least I hope they will me. Mine was quite delighted. It was only on pausing to reflect on this that I was struck by the thought that he may have been delighted at the thought of no more of my genetic consequences populating the world and clogging up his surgery with various snotty ailments. He also handed me a leaflet explaining what happened and said he'd get in touch with the surgery who would then contact me in due course.
Sure enough I was given an appointment for a pre-op chat and check by the nurse. Obviously the local Director of Health has a great sense of humour as the surgery where the op is performed is on "Balls Road" (I kid you not). So I attended and was given the lovely fluffy "Oh it's so simple, you won't even feel a thing, there's no pain or discomfort afterwards either" propagandist talk by the nurse who I could not help but notice kept making eye contact with my wife and smiling at her when she said things like "Oh no, the incision with the scalpel really doesn't hurt..." (wink Tee Hee Hee!)
A few weeks later the day dawned and complete with undies so tight I resembled a balloon that had been twisted in the middle, we set off for the surgery. i was only there a short time before I was called through into the clinic.
I won't go into the details, I am sure many chaps on here already know the score. I will say that as a man you discover a new level of vulnerability when you can see a rather short sighted doctor holding your testicles armed with a scalpel, while a rather attractive young nurse looks on somewhat pityingly. To relieve the obvious tension, the surgeon began chatting to me.
"So what is it that you do?"
"Never mind that! Watch what you are doing with my love nuts!"
Is what my brain shouted. I instead squeaked an answer. I felt something cold, then something that felt like a pen being drawn across, no pain at all, then weird pulling sensations down below, (No, not THAT kind, please some decorum!) the same again on the other side and then he announced "All done" and said goodbye while the nurse tidied up. My nuts were then packed with cotton wool and strapped back into the incredibly tight pants. I was then allowed a complimentary coffee and biscuit in an adjoining room. Where a group of relieved but now partially emasculated men sat around drinking coffee, waiting to flash their pitifully shredded nutsack to the nurse before being allowed to go. I used this down time productively however to play with a stethoscope I found on a desk (they are very good, it is amazing what you can hear with them, especially adjoining walls) and give myself an eye test, which I passed, despite the tears of relief.
I was summonsed to flash my sliced gonads to the nurse who took one look and went. "It's stopped bleeding, yep it's fine, you can go." I suppose "Yep, it's fine, stopped bleeding... And may I say Mrs Res is one lucky lady!" was too much to hope for. Perhaps if I had gone private?
Now chaps this is the point of this post somewhat. What they don't tell you on the leaflets is the net result of the operation. They do list common side effects of the procedure and common complications (DON'T read the list of complications! You will, after two days, be absolutely convinced they are going to fall off.) The first few hours are fine while the anaesthetic still works. Even after it wears off you just feel mild discomfort. Then you go to bed, still wearing your magic tight pants. And wake up the following morning.
This is when you notice your nutsack has now taken on biblical proportions. You take a look and wonder if the surgeon did not just cut the tubes and tie, but instead lopped yours off and replaced them with a set from a bull elephant. Swollen is not the word. Your nuts look less like a hairy brain, and more like an over inflated beach ball. WITH the colours, because, oh joy... they start to change colour. First it's pinkish... then red, then deeper red and finally a fantastic shade of purple that cannot be found anywhere in nature other than on your nutsack. Furthermore it lasts for a good week or two!
Still, it was nice to feel my balls were being pitied for sympathetic reasons, as opposed to the usual contempt that I get.
Was it worth it? I've no idea. Since I have had the op done, we've not played. Typical eh? Everything still works and there has been no noticeable drop off in output and everything was in working order (albeit a little more gently than usual) within a 5 days- a week or so of the op. (They suggested two weeks. Yeah. Right!) Everything looks as it was now too, which is a tad disappointing given at one point I thought I was going to be blessed with nuts like two grapefruit's in a bag.
Sex God
ops: :oops:
