Over seven years ago, I saw my first picture of a Prince Albert (PA) piercing. Although I had heard of them, I did not know exactly what one looked like, or how to get one. However, the minute I saw that picture, I had to have one! I looked up PAs on the Web, finding sites such as BME, downloaded PA photos and read about as many men’s experiences as possible. I got pretty serious, for a middle-aged straight man, about the topic. But even as I researched the subject, I did not believe that it would be right for me. I briefly mentioned it to my wife, who just dismissed the idea without a second thought. So I kept thinking about it, re-reading the experiences, checking the photos, but just not taking the big step. In the meantime, I thought about a tattoo instead, going so far as to planning a design and location. I was just not as interested in a tattoo, though, as I was in a PA.
While daydreaming about a PA, I did begin to indulge in stretching my scrotum. My balls have always hung high and tight, so I set to work to loosen them up so that a PA—if it ever happened—would look better. Using only leather stretchers and ball weights, I succeeded in stretching my scrotum about 3 inches lower than they were when I first began the process. I did get what I wanted, because my balls actually slap my wife’s ass during sex, depending on the position. However, a stretched scrotum is just not the same as a pierced dick, and it take a lot of work to keep it loose.
In early September, though, my urologist gave me some bad news about my penis, that I in fact have Peyronie’s disease, which has left my cock shrunken in both length and circumference. Since that has had a negative impact on my enjoyment of sex, not to mention my wife’s, I decided to do something to help out. In the next week, as I mulled over a PA, I wasn’t sleeping and when I did sleep, I’d wake up thinking about piercing my penis. Then I decided I had to get the job done, once and for all. Without telling my wife, I visited the piercing shop, asked about getting a PA and observed the facilities and people. The next day, I went back and changed my life.
I was not the least bit nervous dropping my shorts and having an unfamiliar male piercer study my member to locate a hole. He set it well back, because I had told him I wanted to stretch it to a larger size. Because I dislike medical procedures (this ranks as one in my book), I did not look. I got one huge jolt of pain when the 9 gauge needle went through my delicate skin, and another when the 8 gauge closed bead ring (CBR) followed. Then I got to admire the jewelry, pick up my shorts and talk to the piercer briefly, like he was an old friend. It was a little uncomfortable driving back home, but wow, it felt great.
On the way home, I picked up distilled water for the sea salt soaks, and carefully removed the gauze and the glove that protected my clothes from the possibility of blood. There was very little and even less the next couple of days. After that, lymph fluid leaked regularly and regularly resulted in the paid of the “crusties” on the ring. I found out, too, that tight jeans do not help in healing, and that more relaxed pants were the way to go when I could not wear shorts. The first night, when my wife got home from work, I showed her my miniature masterpiece, which resulted in heavy duty eye rolling, but no recriminations.
Healing took longer than I thought it would, from everything that I had read. It took about two months to heal, but even after that, the ring seemed to pinch. In pants, it would briefly get uncomfortable, but it certainly was not a 100% delightful experience. But it did get better, and my wife’s eye rolling became less exaggerated, as she toyed with the ring.
At the same time, I kept looking at charts of gauge sizes, and trying to figure out if I could move to a larger size, or even skip a size. It really did not seem possible, given that I was still experiencing some discomfort at times, which I attributed to not being completely healed. Finally, I could not take it anymore and one night after work stopped to price out a 6 gauge CBR. I found one I liked, and bought it immediately because the piercer would put in at no charge. Since there a number of people having work done, I left and came back the following night, nervous as hell. After I dropped my pants again, the piercer popped the old ring out and slid the new one right in, no problem! It also ended other problems—the larger ring is far more comfortable and any pinching sensations are gone for good. It looks better and it functions better, too, as my wife says it makes her feel full.
However, I’ve now got a spare 8 gauge CBR that needs a home, so I am considering a lorum. It is hard to believe that I never was pierced until late last year, and I am already thinking about a second. I am still not telling my wife, but I hope I do not become as obsessed by a lorum as I was with the PA!
submitted by: Henry Joy
on: 27 Jan. 2013
in Prince Alberts