S is for Speculum

Lady sat on the edge of the bath with her feet in the bath and a speculum between her legs, lying in the bath with its jaws wide open. For the post S is for speculum

The kink being explored this week is speculums.

Like many women I am no stranger to these duck bill shaped contraptions, in the medical setting. And for me erotic vaginal medical examinations are a hard limit. So what on earth am I doing as the proud owner of a speculum? And why would I want to use one.

I’ll let you in on a little secret shall I?

I’m a fan of vaginal gape. I love watching a lovers face as I hold myself wide for him to inspect my cervix, to spit inside of me from afar and to see the inside of my hot tight hole. I also love to fill myself (or be filled) with all sorts of interesting things. Eventually the fear of medical play gave way to the need to explore gaping more. My rational brain says that, so long as the man between my legs is not pretending to be a doctor then it won’t be classed as medical play, just kinky fuckery. And so I ordered one. When it arrived it remained unused for quite some time. I would pick it up, hold the cold metal in my hands, expand the jaws and then release them again.

It felt like an age, but was likely more just a couple of months before curiosity got the better of me.

I really, really wanted to explore this and watersports together so… that’s what I decided to try. With a full bladder I settled back on the side of my bath. Strangely I was very comfortable there, shoulders resting on my toilet. First came a splodge of cold lube. Then I lined up the speculum and pushed the cold, unyielding metal inside. The first tentative pumps expanding the jaws slightly, before boldly pressing harder. I felt myself gasp and knew I could go no further, not today. While getting to know my shiny new toy I had discovered a gap which I assumed would be in the right position for me to be able to pee while I had it in. This rang true for my experiences in hospital with a catheter tube and speculum (following childbirth) so I was confident the next stage would work. Setting up my video camera on my phone I got into a position I could see inside of myself and watch as the pee would flow over my gaping flesh.

Depending how this worked I had plans for a sequel…

Video: on. Bladder: relaxed. And wait.

And wait….

Feeling the pressure building up I wondered if the metal was pressing on my urethra. I channelled my inner piss-slut and enjoyed the intense sensation where my pee was unable to find its exit. Relax N, relax… and with that the speculum flew out of my pussy propelled by a jet of golden nectar which hit my phone, stopping and deleting the recording in one wet blast.

At this point I almost fell off the side of the bath with laughing so hard. As far as plans going wrong this was about as far off course as it could be!

Lessons have been learnt for next time I get my speculum out to play.


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S is for Speculum was first published on A Leap of Faith.

I have learned that grief is another name for love.

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I still find it astonishing, even after 21 years.

You would imagine that it would get easier, and in many ways it has. I can now celebrate the many times we enjoyed, and I can look back with joy in my heart rather than total devastation and, more often than not, anger. Anger with you for not going to see the doctor sooner, that they couldn’t catch it in time because you wouldn’t tell anyone. You fought it for a number of years, never admitting that you were going to die, even after they said it had spread to your bones, and liver. The time they thought you had a stroke, but it was really rogue cells floating around in your brain.

Your strength has probably inspired me more than I admit.

For many years every time I saw someone whose life you had touched they would say “oh, haven’t you got your father’s eyes.” They always missed out the eyebrows, chin and nose!  And what about your stubbornness, dry wit and sense of adventure. Did I get those traits through nature or nurture? You were a stay at home dad until I started school, and even after that I was like your shadow. Saturday mornings in the shop are memories I will always treasure, the touch of felt will always take me back to that time.

Grief is a funny thing though.

Every year in the lead up to your anniversary something makes me feel like my heart has been broken. I never equate the two immediately, but tonight was a quicker realisation than the standard day or two. Maybe I am learning with time. Perhaps next year I will surprise myself with allowing the sadness without needing other hurts to bring it out.

This evening I was driving home from delivering my children. It’s the holidays and I get a rest too.

I was thinking about events from the last week or so. You see, when Sir left again in July I felt a little sad. I knew that I wouldn’t hear from him until at least February, and even if I did I wasn’t sure how that would feel. My need to submit took a sabbatical. I have been exploring this wonderful world of kink in different ways and enjoying myself greatly, but as time wore on my mojo drifted. Recently a few things have happened which have made me realise that, although enjoying the opposite sides of myself, I had actually been hiding my submission. It hadn’t left me, just curled up inside too scared of being exposed and vulnerable. The intensity of my submissive love and the loss thereafter too hard to face again. Grief is not just felt for those who have died.

Driving along I felt my heartbreak all over again, my eyes burning with tears held back too long.

I knew that I needed to run, and once I was safely home I did just that. Not 200m from my front door I realised why. I have come home and spoken to one of my lovely friends (you’d love her, she’s completely mad) and I have talked about you more than I have with anyone in years. I hope you would be proud of the woman I have become, the way I have conducted myself when times have been hard and the way I am raising the two grandsons you will never get to meet. More often than not I need to be strong just like you were, sometimes I need to laugh until my sides aches and occasionally I need a good cry.

Tonight, astonishingly, I have done all three.

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February Photofest

Love your rage, not your cage. #24

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Rage against the Machine was a band who I first became aware of during my marriage. There is something missing from my world of music with the loss of them, and Take The Power Back is the way that I choose to remember them. It also seems to be relevant to my life and how I became the woman I am today. Through submission and kink I have been able to take my power back.

I love music and am always on the lookout for something new to listen to, so I hope the 30-Day Song Challenge inspires some of you to share.

The greater the obstacle, the more glory in overcoming it.

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The day had arrived. I was prepared, physically and mentally.

Work was done, the boys were with their dad and I was heading west for “The biggest & best Kink night in the South West !!” I was beyond nervous, but knew that if I didn’t keep pushing myself forward I would start to pull back into my shell again, like a Tortoise. I had no desire for that to happen. When I arrived in the town I ended up driving round in circles in the one way system. It took me three attempts to find the correct road and car park, but perhaps unsurprisingly I hadn’t noticed the club. fetching my rucksack from the back seat I noticed a familiar person. LTM was walking out of the car park so I hurried to catch up. He walked me round and introduced me to the friends he was meeting at the door. Joining the queue I was directly behind someone I had been chatting to about rope, with the potential for him to tie me up. He was shy so I would have to ask.

As I moved toward the door the nerves and sick feelings gave way to calm resignation.

I had arrived, the queue behind me blocked any chance of escape and beyond the door lay a new world. As the door swung open I was greeted by three familiar smiling faces plus the venue owners. I was given a locker key and directions to the changing space but I couldn’t make my way through the crush of people so I stopped to chat with MT first. As he had been there early he had managed to hire a private room, and offered me to use it to change and store my bits. Accepting his offer I got changed in privacy and comfort, gathered my thoughts, took a deep breath and stepped  out to join the tour for newcomers to the venue.

There were four floors of kink to explore, with a hot tub, sauna, steam room and showers, as well as a social space, a dark dank dungeon space, and a larger play space at the top…

The large play space had a demonstration stage and a Fucking Machine.

MsD had told me she was taking it, and I would be welcome to try…if I wanted to. Less of a request, more of a cheeky challenge.

But would I?

Could I?!

What do you think? By the time the demos had started the main space had filled up. One woman tried it briefly, then another for longer. I was watching the action from the side, wanting to go up but not wanting to… When the second lady climbed down from the stage I looked up and MsD was asking who was next. Catching her eye I was still humming and ahhing when she crooked her finger at me and smiled with eyes that said “You know you want to.” Fuelled by nothing more than Diet Coke my inhibitions melted away. I wanted to do this, and I was damn sure that I would. So with an audience I stepped up onto the stage and stripped from the waist down, got into position and settled down for another completely new experience. I giggled an awful lot, and mostly rested my face in the cushion on the stage, but being watched over by so many people was quite a thrill. With SL by my side, matching my giggles with respectful humour as his Mistress attempted to get his new friend to give in and climb off, I discovered new reserves of confidence.

I didn’t orgasm on the machine but it did wet my appetite.

I knew full well that this wasn’t going to be the last time I used one, though I had no idea when or where the next time would be. MT introduced me to his group of friends, and a little later on he had asked if I would like him to cane my feet. He wanted to show her what he could do, and he also wanted to make sure I had a good time. Of course, I agreed! And he did a very good job caning my feet solo. He also used his tawse on my soles and on the palms of my hands, which felt delicious. Tr and CC were also on hand to make my evening a great one. CC giving me advice on foot protection when the heels had to come off (pop socks) and Tr making calming conversation when I was feeling a little overwhelmed by the noise, heat and throngs of people.

That night some of my friendships within the community became established.

As the night went on I chattered to so many new people, respectfully asking about things that were going on that I had never seen before, such as needle play. Seeing the variety of outfits and implements opened my eyes to so many more possibilities. Much of what I saw that night I had seen in porn, some had been used on me in person, but to see all of these other people like me enjoying their kinks publicly was amazing. And all of the beautifully different shapes and sizes of my fellow revellers triggered a change in me. I had learnt that Sir enjoyed my body, and he had helped me to be confident in my own skin with him and myself. Now though I could see the wonderful diversity, not all the traditional beauties you would see on kink.com but so much more. Men, women and everyone in between. Outfits ranging from latex to lingerie to leather, all-black to brightly coloured.

There was space for everyone, and that included me.

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TMI Tuesday: 8th May 2018

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I have decided to take part in TMI Tuesday for the first time this week. I always enjoy other people’s answers so felt it was time to join in myself.

1. What makes you, you? I am authentically me, I am brave to the point of being foolish, and I am fiercely loyal to those who deserve it. I am curious, independent and bloody minded. I am kind, thoughtful and complex. I am a confident introvert who finds people endlessly fascinating. Still waters run deep, and the calm exterior that people see hides a deep-seated vulnerability.

2. Do you care more about doing the right thing or doing things right? Oh, this is a tough one… if something is worth doing it is worth doing right, but if I am not doing the right thing in the first place then no amount of doing it right is going to make it better. So, doing the right thing in the first place is what I care most about.
3. What is sexual freedom? Do you have it? Sexual freedom is having the mental freedom to fulfill your sexual needs without worrying what other people think. Discretion where it is needed, and making sure that no-one comes to any harm are important in my sexual freedom, but yes… I believe I do have sexual freedom.
4. In your romantic relationships, is trust more important than love? I think love and trust go hand in hand when it comes to any relationship on the spectrum, from friendship through romance to D/s. I can trust people I don’t love (professional relationships for example) but I can’t love without trust.
5. Your life, is it more of a dream or a nightmare? My life is definitely a dream. Not always the best dream, but with all of the good things to think about I couldn’t ever call it a nightmare. It has never been more than I could manage, I’ve never woken up screaming!

Bonus:  What is the last romantic thing you did for someone?

Oh NO! I am not a traditionally romantic person at all… I imagine that it was my most recent self-assigned stretching task for Sir: stuffing myself with as many wooden spoons as I could find (and a rolling pin) and sending him a picture. Who says romance is dead??

 

If you fancy joining in here is the link to TMI Tuesday.

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