Pinch

Caroline: Have you pinched yourself?
She took hold of my cock and moved it out of the way.
Me: Err …?
Leaning in a little, she stared intently at my balls.
Caroline: It looks like you’ve

pinched yourself. In could just be an in growing hair.
She pulled over a magnifying lamp, switched it on and examined my scrotum.

I was genuinely nonplussed by this and couldn’t think what she was talking about. With hindsight, that may have made my response seem more genuine. As she scrutinised my ball sack, I looked down, but could barely even see the mark to which she was referring.
Me: Not that I’m aware of.
Caroline: Nope. It definitely looks like you’ve pinched yourself.
Me: I’ll have to watch my nails.
Was that a smirk on her face? A knowing smile?
Obviously it would be unprofessional to laugh at your clients genitals while you’re waxing them.

It was then I realised the pinch must have come when I bolted my new toy (and two older toys) into place. But I couldn’t help wonder what Caroline thought had been the cause. Whilst I acknowledge that getting my cock ‘n’ balls professionally depilated on a regular basis probably does put me somewhere on the kink spectrum, I’m sure I don’t usually give any particular signs that might suggest I’m the rampant pervert I am.

And unless Caroline has explored the world of kink herself, I suspect ball stretchers are unlikely to be on her radar.

Perhaps she just thought it was teeth marks.

I wish!

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