The moment I saw this topic, back halfway through February when it was only a mention in the footer on Kink of the week site, my heart started beating faster.
Yes! This definitely is a kink of mine, and I know it’s not for everyone.
I wrote about speculums three times before, in my posts called Time to confess (June 2013), Your kink is not my kink (June 2013), and M is for Masochism and More (April 2016). Then, for February Photofest 2019 and the Erotic Journal Challenge, I mentioned it in Distressing Desires. I also shared images.
The times I went to the doctor and needed an internal exam, I never once thought of the speculum as something sexy. Then the circumstances were different. It’s medical, not kinky.
However, inside the privacy of our bedroom it’s a different thing. Then it’s purely sexual from the moment the cold-ish steel of the speculum slips inside me until the moment my bod explodes in a dazzling orgasm.
So much happens between those two moments.
I gasp as the steel parts my lips and find my slick entrance, ready to push in deeper. Like a cold dildo it slips inside, deeper and deeper. My legs are spread wide; my mind as open as my nether limbs. He turns the screw slightly, and immediately pressure starts building inside. Another turn, more pressure. He continues, until I say ‘yellow’. Allowing me to adjust to the fullness, he softly runs his finger over my outer labia. I utter only one word: “more”.
Immediately he reaches for the screw again, but now he turns it very slowly, giving me ample time to stop him. I don’t want to stop. I want be opened up. I want him to see deep inside me. Can he see me? Does he like it? Is it exciting him as much as it does me. Another turn. More pressure. I get to a point where I can barely handle the feeling.
“Orange,” I say.
He stops again. I want to make him proud. But, there’s more. I want to make myself proud. I want to be opened wide. Want to see how much I can handle.
“A bit more,” I gasp, but the moment he turns the screw again, I stop him.
“Orange, orange, orange, almost red, orange, please,” I beg.
He stops. I force myself to relax. To ease the pain I feel. The delicious pain. I think of what it looks like.
“Do you like it?” I ask.
“It’s beautiful,” he says.
“How wide am I opened?”
I needed to know.
“Quite wide,” he answers, which satisfies me, even though I still have no idea how wide my cunt is spread. Once again he runs his fingers up and down my labia. The feeling is intense. He pushes a finger inside, touching deep inside my vagina, but this is a feeling I don’t really like. He sees my reaction; moves his attention to my clitoris.
“Oh god yes,” I sigh, “oh fucking god, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
The feeling is almost too much to handle. As stretched as my cunt is, just as needy my clitoris seems to be. Within seconds I am begging for an orgasm, begging to let go. Permission is granted and the most dazzling, most intense orgasms, tears through my body, leaving me panting, but immediately asking for the speculum to be removed. Somehow, the moment I come down from my high, I cannot handle the pressure anymore…
The scene written above has played off a couple of times, and I would love to repeat it. I would love to do it week after week, to see just how far the speculum can open me up, whether I can get used to the feeling and manage more and more. Unfortunately, at this moment it’s not possible.
One of my first thoughts after seeing the topic was that I need new pictures. Of course those pictures should be of the speculum in action. This is not something I can do myself. I required Master T’s help for this. Which meant I had to ask him, something I don’t find easy at all. Still, I asked…
He was going to do the images, but in the end, in an incredibly horny mood, I took the images myself.
© Rebel’s Notes