Our Senior Correspondent Goes Pelvic

You'll be happy to know that Mistress and Slave made it to our SW hideaway safely last night. And fortunately for me, Mistress was in an indulgent mood. After I worshipped  clean shaven folds that were particularly musky after a long day of travel, she gave me the good news that my 40 or so hours of abstinence would not be extended until this morning.

When the dust settled after a sustained and successful assault by the work-a-day cock, Mistress seemed impressed. 

"Wow, Slave.... you must have been horny."

No doubt. It had been nearly two days, with an intervening date night for Mistress that Slave had to mull over, stoking those cuckold fires. 

But today's blog is devoted to a contribution by our Senior Correspondent, who can make even a trip to the doctor kinky: 

Long time no write. Well, I have been leaving pithy little comments here and there, but not really writing. The reason has to do with some on-going medical crap, but we're learning to deal and all is well.

I want to begin by sharing a personal insight: whether a submissive is healthy or ill, they are still submissive with all the needs, wants, and meaning wrapped up in those words. We continue to desire spankings, floggings, blindfolds, hot wax, and all the rest, as well as the opportunity to serve orally and physically. Of course you should check in to be sure your sub is up for it, but don't good Doms do that anyway? As for me, right now I really need a solid spanking, some anal sex and a butt plug, even yearn for it. And from the look on Bill's face when I threw a bit of snark his direction during breakfast this morning, my needs may be met quite soon. 


Speaking of anal sex and butt plugs, if those words bother you, perhaps you should skip today's blog. I will be covering, or uncovering, if you would rather, some information related to butts in an up close and personal way. 

On Monday, I had an appointment with a specialist who informed me that now is the time to see someone about bowel retraining. Immediately, those little questions that pop up for me at the most unfortunate times began running in circles through my brain. How does one retrain a bowel? I'm envisioning a lion tamer with a whip and chair yelling, "Back, back, I say!" Next question, who in the heck does that for a living? And really, does any child ever sit at the dinning room table and announce to their parents that when they grow up they want to be a bowel trainer? More and more questions came to mind, but Bill was watching my face and gave me his best staring from under the eyebrows look so I would understand he knew I was about to ask some of my "special" questions, and that he would prefer I not. 

So I didn't, but I must have made a face, because then the doctor informed me that the procedure would be "rather invasive" and he hoped it wouldn't upset me. I assured him that I wouldn't be upset and might even get a bit of a thrill, you never know. He sat there for a moment with a straight face, did a blink-blink, and then burst out laughing. Hey, as long as you can share a smile and a laugh, it's all good. Right?

Later that day, when the clinic called to set up my appointment, the girl on the phone had a very heavy accent. Just to be sure I understood who was calling, I asked whether she was calling from the bowel clinic. Her voice became very clipped as she informed me that the correct terminology is pelvic health clinic. That made me laugh, it's a lovely euphemism but no matter what it's called, the same procedures were going to take place. 

I headed out to my pelvic health appointment with my favorite hand sanitizer and a large can of Lysol spray in my backpack. I am happy to say the only thing painful about the appointment was the amount of paperwork I had to fill out. I suppose if you've never had anal sex or spent time with a decently sized butt plug you might considered it invasive, but I just continued visiting with the technician as she did her work, wondering when things were going to get ramped up. They didn't. The only unpleasantness had to do with the technician. Let me just say that I really think people in this line of work should refrain from gesticulating wildly while both hands are gloved and one hand still in a very warm location. I believe that was the first time in my life I have sincerely hoped that it was spit or little tidbits of leftovers from lunch being spat upon my back. 

The actual retraining involves bio-feedback. A device that looks like a tiny little wired dildo is inserted in the back door, attached to some monitors, and the retraining begins. I think on my next visit I'm going to take a decent size butt plug from my personal stash and see if she can't wire it up so I can get better results sooner!

Who knew BDSM would be so helpful, medically speaking?

Senior Correspondent,
Donna

Thanks, Donna. Please keep our readers up to date on how the therapy goes, and whether you can make the gesticulating therapist blush before you are done. Since you live down in the bible belt, I'm wondering if your therapy will be tricked out with something like this: