‘We can definitely do something with these. These are very fleshy.’ Dr. Woodcock pokes my left labia with a gloved finger.
I’ve experienced humiliation before, but with the poking I reach a whole new level.
‘The labia majora really are fleshy. The minora aren’t too bad.’
Dr. Woodcock grabs a lab and pulls. ‘Mmmm’.
This was no ‘you’re a Goddess, every man in the known universe would kill to be in my position right now mmmm’, no, this was a ‘mmmm, what’s the best way for me to give your weird and undesirable genitals a modicum of appeal?’
‘I think what we’ll do is actually a liposuction procedure on the labia majora and leave the minora alone. When the minora sag further as you age, we can always do the labiaplasty then.’
I’m forty years old. I’m lying on my back in a plastic surgeon’s office. My legs are spread and my labia are being manhandled by a man whose name ends in cock. This man is going to charge me a stupendous amount of money to suck the God-given flesh right out of my genitals. On top of that, he has forecast I’ll have sagging minora in the not so distant future. I don’t even know what that is. It sounds life-alteringly grim. I should leave. But I don’t. And Dr. Woodcock is now pulling on my right labia, elongating it with what is clearly a clinically-derived sense of wonder.
‘Gosh, yes, look at that.’
Even if I could, Dr. Cock, I just don’t think I would right now. All I can think about is how I’m going to break it to my family that my minora are droop-destined. They’ll all be crushed.
‘Alright, Mrs. Bell, you can get dressed now.’
‘Call me Sam. You’ve seen my droopy vagina, I think you can call me by my first name.’ I give Dr. Cock a half smile as I yank my Bonds up over my hips. His face remains impassive.
‘Perhaps you might like to look at these Mrs. Bell? Might help to make you feel more comfortable.’
Cock pushes an album across the desk and makes fancy loops and swirls with his Mont Blanc while I pull my jeans on and shove my feet back in my Nikes. A vagina album. Pages of pussies to peruse. Fantastic. If only Alex were here; he’d love it. I can feel Cock staring at me so I focus on the twats. Perhaps he has a point. There’s some seriously sagging snatch in this album. Sagging snatches on the left, tight, hairless pussies on the right. Not your classic before and after shots. No mood lighting or lipstick here.