One of the things that this little bout of whatever has done is prompt some old memories. Particularly of how I came to have a mild but definite "medical fetish". Now, when people ask me about my spanking interest and my childhood, while I can't say definitively that it didn't start there.....or because of some event, I CAN say without hesitation that my medical fetish DEFINITELY started there.
I was born in 1959 and so when I was sick, nobody stuck a beeping thermometer under my arm. Nope. THIS was the instrument that revealed my body temperature and it got stuck up my butt:
This looks VERY much like the actual thermometer I was accustomed to right down to the blue box.
The procedure was quite simple. My mother would have me lay face down on my bed with my PJ bottoms lowered and then she'd use good old fashioned Vaseline to lube up my little friend pictured above and using one hand to spread my cheeks, in she'd slide the thermometer with the other. Then she'd do this thing I recall distinctly. She'd take her one hand and lay it across my bottom so that her fingers rested on one cheek, the heel of her hand on the other, and her palm pushed the end of the thermometer in-between so that it would be level with my cheeks. If during the course of the 4 minutes of being measured, the thermometer started to slip up and out, she'd do this again. I remember feeling like it was a very tender way to do something practical. I remember the feeling of her hand on my bottom so strongly. It was like a non-verbal way of saying, "I want my dear little boy to get better.....so this has to be in far enough to do its job correctly."
I will also fully admit that my feelings towards rectal temperatures changed over time as one might expect. When I was very young, my earliest recollections being from just before and about Kindergarten age, I hated the idea that she was going to take my temperature this way. I didn't want her sticking anything in my bottom. And I knew even then that temperatures could be taken orally, but when I complained she'd just tell me that this was more accurate. Having not much of a choice, I'd just endure it but I remember being very cognizant of the time counting down until it would be over. But oddly, as I got a bit older, maybe around 3rd grade or so, I came to........in a way I didn't understand fully at the time.......sort of like the procedure. After all, it didn't hurt, I was the center of my caring Mom's attention, and I recall that my already perverted young mind was strangely liking the position I was in.
Put this kid on his belly and I'd swear someone had snuck into my room!
And THAT has to be my strongest memory of it all......not the insertion, or the barely noticeable sensation of holding something so tiny in my hinder, but being on a sort of vulnerable and embarrassing display......all under the legitimizing guise of health care!
I'm going to confess something now that I have never told anyone, and I'm not exactly sure anymore of the precise way this went down....or exactly when, but the memory does seem vivid enough to be pretty close to what I'm going to admit. Over time I ceased all protest over rectal temperature taking and instead became very compliant with the practice......so much so that I do think my level of casual cooperation served to keep it going longer than it might have, had I raised more and more of a fuss. My mother was always a bit overprotective and I think she just saw this as part of being a caring mom and willingly kept doing things they way she had always done with her little boy....even as I was not as little as I used to be. But since I wasn't giving her any reason to stop, and cause to have to buy a different thermometer, she just kept on doing things this way.
But one thing she began to do as I got older was to flip my blanket over me after inserting the thermometer...... ostensibly for modesty. I recall hating this new addition. It ruined everything going on in my head! Now instead of being on deliciously embarrassing display, I was just all covered up with a thing in my ass. I also didn't like how the blanket would tug the thermometer if I moved in any way. At first I just went along with this new twist, but I was growing to hate it more and more. And so one day after my mother had covered me up and left me to wait for the temperature to register, I just reached back and brazenly flipped the blanket back off of me. When she returned to find my bottom exposed, before she could even ask, I preemptively explained very matter-of-factly that the blanket was rubbing against the thermometer making it very annoying.......which while true, was NOT the main motive for my action. I don't think she said anything that I can recall and just accepted my explanation as somewhat logical and from that point on just continued to do things as we had always done them. I guess, being my mother, SHE had only chosen to cover me up for what she thought could be my possible growing feelings of modesty. But obviously if I preferred doing things 'the old way', she would have no real issue with it.
I'm not sure when we ceased rectal temps as mother/son and this was definitely something I regarded as a mother/son thing. No one else ever took my temperature like this but her. So when temperature time came, I could always expect that the thermometer was going to end up in my butt......and that Mom and only Mom was going to put it there. But it did end at some point. I have tried to recall when and just can't, but regardless of when it was, it was already after I had already formed a very clear association between the activity and something practical, loving, and also somewhat deliciously submissive.
Years later, in college, I had a dominant girlfriend that would spank me and do other BDSM activities. Whenever I got sick........as long as I wasn't TOO sick, she'd be my 'nurse' and take my temperature rectally......just like Mom used to. ( After helping my family move twice since those early days, it wasn't hard for me to find the long-discontinued thermometer among some boxed-up stuff and procure it for my own use.)
I haven't really had a desire to revisit this activity in recent years. I'm not sure why.....but probably because Rosa is squeamish about inserting things herself. She's OK with me HAVING stuff inserted, but other than the occasional pegging, she prefers I do the self-impaling.
This could easily have been me back when I was about 19 or so.
My childhood also resulted in other medical-type fetishes......namely suppositories and enemas. But perhaps .......if there's interest........those can be stories for another day?