Fertility Clinic Pt. 04: Fun ‘N Games

Categories: Genel.

Mar 18, 2023 // By:analsex // No Comment

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With my promotion to Nursing Assistant, my pay at the Fertility Clinic increased but my morning hours were scaled back to accommodate the arrival of male donors. With the later starting time, I reported in at 5:45 AM to a locker far less crowded. There may have been only another man and two women in the locker with me.

Initially, my duties would be to receive male donors, release them from the chastity device, we called the cock blocker and examine their genitalia for potential abnormalities or injuries before their penises are secured to a hitching post for sperm extraction. As I went through the paces of purely mechanical procedures designed to efficiently draw sap, my mind wandered from my rote tasks to wonder, was there any magic between men and women?

To get to this level at the Fertility Clinic, I had to take and pass a crash course on anatomy while I still had to deal with my senior year classes toward my degree in Industrial Psychology. Fortunately, my work at the Fertility Clinic qualified to satisfy one of my requirements toward my degree, an Internship.

My tall and muscular husband Jerry, pleasantly bemused, encouraged my studies and offered his body for practice.

“First, I wash my hands and introduce myself,” I went through my checklist, “Good morning Mr Warbler. I’m Nursing Assistant Amy Warbler. After I release you from chastity, I’m going to conduct a testicular exam, a complete physical inspection of the genitalia, the penis, scrotum, and testicles.”

“Oh, please do,” said Jerry with a smile.

I moved his chin to the right and ordered Jerry to put his hands on his head.

Passing my written and practical test, with Jerry’s help, I found myself in a somewhat more staid, professionalized environment. On duty, I was addressed as Ms Warbler. I wore medical scrubs replete with a name tag that identified me as a Nursing Assistant.

Coopting in the trial run — through for the hands — on portion of the exam, Jerry complained that I should borrow surgical scrubs for more realism in my exam. “There’s something to the medical accoutrements, the scrubs, the name tag, and the stethoscope that promote cooperation of the subject.”

With Jerry’s size and strength, I needed all the help the prop of an improvised costume could bring to assure his pliancy.

To accommodate Jerry’s quest for realism, I wore one of his white shirts, backwards, over a loose, billowy pj bottom. I preferred the short sleeve shirt to tease Jerry with a glimpse at my breasts. Jerry’s T — Shirt fit loose enough; I only buttoned the top button to make sure the top flowed with my movement. To Jerry’s suggestion that, on duty, I wear a bra or a T — shirt under the scrubs, I reminded him that paying customers give tips.

“Tips for Tits!” Jerry exclaimed. “You must model this exceptional garment for me. Bring a pair home.”

“To leave at the end of my shift,” I replied, “I have to walk naked from a communal shower along a steel mesh parapet for 100 paces. How can I spirit scrubs out of the clinic?”

Still, even after elevation to a demi — professional caste, we istanbul escort had to strip, stow our street clothes in a locker, and walk naked along a catwalk about 100 feet to communal showers. Instead of the 4AM race of the cleaning crew to the showers, we leisurely strolled to the showers. One of the women walked with the man, idly chatting. Next to me walked a cherubic brunette Darrie. “Think of it as short for Darling,” she told me.

“Appropriate name,” I replied, “for the angel who releases the male donor from the cock block to release the built-up eh—tension.”

“Angel Darlin’, now that would be a nice name,” Darrie chuckled, “the guys call the nurse in the locker the Angel of Mercy. We call her the `Warden.'”

In our practice for my hands on exam, Jerry expressed interest in experiencing me in the role of the Angel of Mercy.

“Not ready to recognize me as your warden,” I chided Jerry.

Perhaps, Jerry suggested as he stood naked in front of me that I should have obtained permission to borrow a chastity belt for that purpose. “The clinic might have allowed issuance of the belt, but not the electronic notebook. You might find a chastity grows on you. Without the release button on the electronic notebook, you’ll find the belt is easier to get into than to get out of.”

Under the spigot next to me, Darrie, looking around the shower, sighed. “You’re new. The only problem with working at the Fertility Clinic is,” a silly expression appeared on her face, “it grows on you.”

“Quite an interesting comment,” I replied, “about an institution designed to grow eh — people.”

“The longer you are here,” Darrie smiled, “the more you’re bound up in it, the harder it is to leave, and the more you find yourself willing to do.”

Though there were enough spigots in the shower for us to keep a respectful distance from each other, we tended to congregate within arms’ reach of each other. “I’m going to help you — just for the first few customers — In the locker — just to show,” Darrie proposed, “you how to handle eh — the ropes.” We both giggled together before she asked, “Soap up my back, will you be a luv?”

Turning her back to me, Darrie waited for me to apply a washcloth from the short hairs of her neck to her shoulder blades down to her butt. “Are you married, luv?” When I acknowledged, she prodded me, “to a guy?” At my nod, she added, “you’d do well as shower girl, but today you play warden, unlock them on the way in and lock them tight on the way out.”

At the clothing counter, Darrie recommended that I wear a T — Shirt under the scrubs, “It being your first time, you might not want guys gaping at your swinging tits.”

“Tits bring Tips,” I quipped.

In my practice with Jerry, I went through the protocol: “Second, once the subject has disrobed, the subject should present naked standing in front of you. Some prefer to perform the examination kneeling to the side of the patient. Most examiners prefer to stand to conduct an initial appraisal of the subject’s general condition.”

“Hands on your head, Mr Warbler, if you please, legs apart,” I ordered kadıköy escort in a cheerful voice.

“Why do you need to keep an eye on my hands?” Jerry asked. “Does a 90 lb woman facing fear losing control over a naked, sex crazed man recently sprung from chastity?”

“Interesting choice of words,” I replied.

When Darrie and I peeked in the male donor’s locker, three or four men completely undressed were milling about inside. Darrie pointing out a fair skinned nervous sort criss — crossing his chest with his arms, “Probably, the new guy, Mr Flesher,” she surmised.

Naked except for an inverted triangular shaped dome covering their crotches, the men awaited release. Standing at the entrance the male donor’s locker, Darrie whispered, “Unexpected things,” an evil smile peered on her lips, “especially with new donors can happen when the projectile is unleashed. Never stand directly in the path of an eruption.”

We both giggled when I quipped, “Interesting concept.”

Entering the male donor’s locker, Darrie barked, “Line up,” Darrie pointed to a line down the middle of the room, “Hands on your heads, the one on top of your head you think with, if you expect your schlong to swing.”

There were some catcalls from the guys lining up. One called out, “Wear a bra if you’re afraid I’ll cop a feel.”

“While I keep your schlong locked,” Darrie shot back, “fondling my tits in a moment of joy will bring your cock quite a shock.”

“You just want to smell my pits,” screeched another.

“Just to check, forsooth,” Darrie quipped, “underarms remain smooth and clean and not hirsute.” Darrie leaned over to give me advice at an audible whisper, “it’s good to keep chappies happy by wiggling your tush and acting a little sassy.”

“Consider this a eh — dress rehearsal. You’re suitably naked and I’m in an improvised nurse’s costume,” I commenced a test – run of the examination. As Jerry stood hands over his head, I announced the next step, “Third,” pausing to seize his penis for examination, I continued, “thoroughly inspect the penis frontal and dorsal, — eh all sides for lumps, swellings, ulcers or scars.”

At my touch, I could feel Jerry’s penis begin to pulsate and gel from flaccid to rubbery. I noticed Jerry’s lips pursing. I heard my heart pounding in my chest. Breathlessly, in a dreamy voice combining technical book learning with pillow talk, I gushed, “think of the penis as engineering miracle of erectional hydraulics, a natural pump capable of accomplishing a surge of blood flow within seconds. When the penis swells with blood, the pelvic floor muscles launch the penis eh — into ecstasy.”

Ecstasy? I questioned myself. That’s contrary to protocol which impersonalized intimate contact. Putting aside the delicacy of social conventions, I, focusing on the objective, must conduct procedures by the book step — by — step. The heart may beat faster, the temperature may rise, but the purpose of intimate contact is professional. “Physical contact with a female nurse during a delicate examination can produce a natural reaction in a male patient,” I reassured Jerry.

“Priming kağıthane escort the pump triggers the launch. I hope so,” Jerry replied.

Announcing as we swept into the locker room, “Gentlemen prepare to launch your rockets, 10 — 9 -8 — 7 …,” Darrie pushed a button on her notepad. The clang of the plastic covers falling to the ground followed. While I collected the fallen shields, Darry declared, “Fun time! Examination of the genitalia.”

When she reached Mr Flesher who managed to conceal himself at the end of the line, he was shaking; his fair skin was burnished red. In a soothing voice, Darry assured Flesher, “There’s no shame in a natural reaction to physical contact with a female during a genital examination.”

Hushing the other men, Darrie sent them into the shower, noting, “Go take care of what you came here to do.”

As the other men filtered out into the shower, Darrie called me over. “Mr Flesher,” she addressed him, maintaining eye contact, “Let me introduce Amy Warbler, our new Nursing Assistant. I need to report to Dr Velour our boss that Nurse Warbler is fully capable of conducting exams on her own. Can you help me teach our Nurse Warbler the art of an intimate examination? It’ll only take a sec. Then you can get hitched to the hitching post for release. That’s what you came here for, right?”

In practicing with Jerry, I pronounced, “Fourth, inspect the scrotum. Hmm,” I interjected, “I get to keep hold of your joystick. Moving the penis out of the way, inspect all sides of the scrotum. Lift the scrotum to check its underside.”

In the locker, Darrie thanked Mr Flesher, “Good! My examination will only take a couple more minutes before you’re on your way to the hitching post, release and ecstasy.”

In my dry run with Jerry, I reached the Fifth stage “palpating,” I interjected, “that’s an inflated medical term for examining by touch, the testicles.”

“Inflated? That’s an interesting word. Sounds like fun,” Jerry’s laughter went into the falsetto range when I pinched a testicle.

“With my thumbs and index fingers,” I explained, “I roll the testes between the fingers to detect potential abnormalities. Feel along the duct work, the epididymis tube and the duct deferens which deliver the sperm for ejaculation.”

“Go easy,” Jerry’s voice ventured into the falsetto range.

“That wasn’t so bad. Your examination is over,” I advised Jerry, “You’re free to have fun. Thank you for being such a good boy,” I patted his tush, “for behaving yourself and cooperating.” I turned my back on Jerry to take off my gloves and drop them in the bathroom.

“Free!” Jerry exclaimed. When I felt his hands gripping me. Lifted off my feet, I felt the pj bottoms slide away. Bent at the waist, I heard Jerry yell “I don’t have to be good, no more, but it will be good.”

In the locker, Darrie concluded Flesher’s examination. “Not so bad, was it? You passed your exam with flying colors,” Darrie counselled Mr Flesher, “You’re dangling free. Go have fun with it!” As Flesher walked away, Dearie whispered, “never turn your back on a released donor.”

At home, Jerry exclaimed, “Time for fun.” A wild expression cropped on his face. “The pump’s been primed, the torrents will flow.” I felt the warmth of his body nestle between the half – moons of my butt while his nimble fingers separated my vaginal lips. Then he hesitated.

“Go ahead. Fuck me.” I ordered Jerry. Tease, denial and release, I wondered as I gasped when Jerry penetrated, was that the magic?

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