Stoned

In what is hopefully the final entry in my grand kidney stone epic, today was the day the little fucker finally showed itself. Please, if you tire of hearing about it or just aren’t that into men’s urinary issues, feel free to read something else (though I do provide a picture of the penis after the jump if you’re into that kind of men’s urinary issue).

As I said last time, I’ve felt the thing moving along from being on the backside of my prostate to actually in my prostate to just the other side over the course of the past six or so weeks. Then I stopped feeling anything. It occurred to me last night, in fact, that I hadn’t felt anything odd at all in my nether regions all day and perhaps the entire adventure was over. But no. There was one more nasty little thing to deal with.

This morning, I was peeing (like you do) and, since I’m in a chastity device and at home, I was sitting down. I felt something move inside me. Like, it was stuck and then jumped forward. I expected to look down and see it in the bowl, but there was nothing there. Odd.

I came home from work to wait on some workmen (who will be here between noon and 5:00, of course) and went to have another pee. This time, I felt something akin to a sharp pain slide down from about the middle of the penis to the end of it. Then it got stuck right at the end and jabbed and poked and felt like tiny piranha gnashing away. A tiny urethral piranha (it could happen).

I went and grabbed the emergency key (in what might be the closest thing to an emergency that ever led me to do so) and removed all the steel. As soon as I slipped the PA ring out, a dark little object presented itself nestled right in cleft at the end of the penis. I touched it and the devil rock popped out. And, of course, the next thing I did was tweet its picture to the world.

Here’s an alternate view. THE FUCKING THING HAS RAZORS BUILT INTO IT.

My previously scheduled doctor’s appointment is tomorrow. I will be presenting my new little razory friend to him at that time for dissection and analysis. I wonder if he’ll want to do anything else to me like an ultrasound to suss out any of its buddies hiding up inside me.

Whatever. He can do what he likes. I’m just so fucking happy the little piece of shit is finally out of me. That’s six weeks of hell I never want to put up with again.

Since all the steel was off and out anyway, I took the opportunity to clean up what turned out to be an overly exuberant manscaping endeavor I started the day before. No matter how pliable the penis is, when it’s locked up there are some crannies a razor can’t get to. My original intention was to simply trim up the pubes to the length Belle finds acceptable but had the trimmer set wrong and, well, there you have it. Then, last night as I was going to bed, I realized I was less than 24 hours from going to the doctor to discuss an issue that, last time I saw a different doctor about, led to him making me drop my pants so he could poke and prod and flop the penis around in inspection. Only this time, I’d be potentially doing it sans hair. Which, I suppose, isn’t anything my regular doctor hasn’t seen before and it’s certainly something I have no issue showing, you know, the entire fucking planet, but somehow still leaves me feeling a bit sheepish. Like, a shorn sheep perhaps.

Anyway, I snapped another (I think) far sexier picture (because I’m a peverted exhibitionist, after all) before locking the entire package back up. You can find that obviously very NSFW picture after the jump. Or, if you linked directly to this post from somewhere, it’s staring you in the face right now…

File Apr 13, 2 07 42 PM

14 thoughts on “Stoned

  1. Thumper, I feel your pain. I have had three kidney stones and they are absolutely no fun! With my first stone the nurse in the ER (I woke up at 2 am feeling like I was being skewered) told me and MrsL that she had two kids through natural childbirth (i.e. no meds) and a kidney stone…she went on to say the kidney stone was 100 times more painful than the childbirth.

  2. At least you didn’t have to get it removed — what a bloody pain that was! So, drinking way more water than I thought possible to avoid another one. And screw the doctor who told me to stop screaming; I had already waited 1 hour in emergency and the other choice was to pry apart their chair, I had already pulled up one arm fighting the pain.

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