Taste Test: Specula Read online

  By Mychael Black

  Table of Contents

  Journal Entry - 2

  Day One - 3

  Day Two - 10

  Day Three - 17

  Author Bio - 27

  Journal Entry: Friday, October 12th, 2006

  I learned the hard way to never keep anything from Master. So I should have known something was up when I found the envelope with my name on it sitting on my keyboard. I'm getting ready to leave now, but I'm not sure what all to expect. All I know is that I was instructed to not take any clothes with me to Master's practice. There's a fold-out sofa bed in his private office, and I have the distinct feeling we'll be spending all weekend there.

  Day One

  Your appointment is at 4 pm sharp. Your entry code is my birth date -- month and day. When you enter, the door will lock automatically behind you.

  You will go to Exam Room 2. There is a cabinet for your clothes. It has a time-release lock set for Sunday evening, 6 pm. You will undress and sit on the exam table.

  I will join you in due time.

  Master Wolfe

  I stared at the slip of paper in my hand, then up at the nondescript red brick building before me. If there's one thing I've learned in the seven months since entering the contract with Master Wolfe, it's don't ever keep a fetish hidden, no matter how embarrassing it is to admit. I swallowed hard. Master Wolfe's note -- written in tight, precise script -- felt like a weight in my palm. Almost as heavy as the hand that turned my ass bright red the day he found the secret porn collection on my computer. That had been a week ago, and I still felt a sting when I sat down.

  ***

  I'd gotten in the shower, per Master's orders. We were at home and, like everything else in my life, my computer was his to use as he wished. His laptop was in the shop, so while I showered, he checked email and whatever else he needed to do. When I came out, one towel around my waist and using another to dry my hair, I just knew something was wrong.

  "Down!"

  My knees hit the carpet the second the command was barked. Eyes downcast, I waited. Shivers moved through me -- not because I was cold, but because I knew he'd found them. That one folder of fetish pictures and video clips. I'd never told anyone about it. Now, I was going to pay dearly for not telling him.

  A firm grip seized my chin, jerking my head up to meet a steel-blue gaze that was just as hard as the metal itself. "I own you."

  "Yes, Master."

  He pointed to the computer, which was in plain sight from where I knelt. A video clip was playing -- a man in stirrups, a doctor sitting on a stool between his spread legs. "Perhaps you need a reminder in that."

  "Yes, Master."

  "Up." He pointed to the chair in front of the computer. "Bend over the back."

  As I stood and walked toward the chair, my towels were both ripped away from me. I didn't flinch, though I wanted to crawl into a hole when I bent forward over the back of the office swivel chair. That damned video played out right in front of me as Master came up behind. I could feel his heat before he ever touched me.

  "How long have you had this fetish?"

  "Five years, Master." The man on the exam table moaned as two of the doctor's fingers disappeared into his body.

  "And how long have we been together?"

  "Three years, seven months, Master." We'd entered into formal contract on our three-year anniversary.

  "Ten strikes. Count."

  It was all the warning I had before the first one. Master's palm landed flat on my bare ass and I jerked. "One! Thank you, Master!"

  The 'patient' grunted when the doctor's fingers pushed deeper. Master spanked me again.

  "Two! Thank you, Master!"

  The doctor withdrew his fingers and inserted a thermometer. Another slap.

  "Three! Thank you, Master!"

  By the time we reached ten, I watched through tears as the doctor in the video opened the speculum, and my ass was on fire. My thighs were shaking, along with the rest of me. Master pulled me up and turned me around.

  "Will you keep secrets from me again?"

  "No, Master," I sobbed. "I'm sorry."

  "Very good." Fingers gripped my chin and he bent down. A sharp contrast to the punishment I'd received, his kiss was soft, gentle, loving. His tongue plied my lips apart -- owning the kiss just as he owned me.

  ***

  Now, I faced this building, a part of me knowing what waited for me. But another part wanted to run away. I knew I would be humiliated, embarrassed, probed, spread open, and inspected. And that was what propelled me forward. The very reasons that left me wanting to hide were the reasons why I lifted my hand and pressed one-one-zero-three on the security panel.

  In the three years prior to our contract, I'd seen this office many times. It was a small practice and, in addition to being my lover -- and now my Master -- Vincent Wolfe was also my physician. Living with a doctor, I pretty much stayed in good health. In those three years, we'd played within the D/s lifestyle off and on, and after talking it through, we made it twenty-four/seven. He'd been retired from the scene; I was new to it.

  As the door clicked behind me, it signified yet another milestone in our lives.

  I walked across the waiting room and opened the only other door. For a moment, I froze, able only to stare down the hallway with the doors lining both sides. Light came from one room. Forcing down the lump in my throat, I headed for Exam Room Two.

  The room looked no different from any of the other rooms. In fact, as I began undressing and looking around, I thought it might have been the same one I'd been in when I had strep throat three years ago. Then again, I could've been wrong.

  I folded my clothes neatly, found the small, portable cabinet, and placed my clothes inside, closing the door.

  That strep throat had landed me my own personal doc.

  Completely naked, I shivered as the realization hit me: this was it.

  Before, the sight of an exam table, especially one with stirrups, got me hard within seconds. Faced with the full knowledge of what was going to happen, I could only shake. My heart was already racing, breath short. Inching toward the table, I reached out and just barely touched it with the tip of one finger.

  Now... I was hard, all right. And fucking terrified.

  Taking a deep breath, I stepped up to the table and hopped onto it. I sat there for what seemed like an eternity, staring down, hands nervously clasping and unclasping. Just as my butt started to go numb, someone stepped into the doorway. I instinctively looked up.

  "Kyle, you are here for a full examination." He strode into the room in full-on Dr. Wolfe mode. "During the exam, you will speak only when asked a question. You will refer to me as Doctor. Nod if you understand."

  I nodded.

  He wasn't wearing his favorite leather. Instead, he was dressed in his usual work clothes: khaki slacks, blue button-down dress shirt, black shoes. Over it all, he wore his white physician's coat, "Dr. Vincent Wolfe, MD" embroidered in black on the left breast pocket. A stethoscope was draped around his neck, and a silver penlight stuck out of the pocket.

  I had wet dreams of him in that outfit.

  "Step down."

  I jumped off the table and stood before him, unable to hide my erection. He completely ignored it and began feeling my neck, fingers pressing.

  "No swelling," he said. "Any pain?"

  "No, Doctor."

  He moved down, fingers mapping my pecs, and then circling my nipples. He rolled each one beneath a palm. Then he pinched. I yelped, going beet red as my cock twitched.

  "Sensitive. Very good. Spread your legs."

  I did as I was told and nearly choked on a moan when his warm hand cupped my balls, giving them a good squeeze. Then he gripped my
cock and pinched the head, forcing my slit open. Precome oozed from the tip and he pulled out a long cotton swab from a nearby jar. Rolling the swab on the slit, he pressed it in just enough to make me gasp. Then he set the swab to the side.

  "Turn around and bend over the table, hands on your buttocks."

  Leaning over the table, chest pressed to the white, crinkly paper, I reached back and gripped my ass cheeks, spreading them apart. I could’ve handled it fine if he’d done something right then, but he left me there, holding myself open, cool air from the AC vent overhead blowing down onto my exposed asshole. Fuck. This was hell... pure, torturous, sweet hell.

  Finally, he spoke. “I’m just going to take your temperature. Be still.”

  I bit my bottom lip as a cool, slick thermometer slid into my ass. Master twisted the glass tube back and forth, and after three impossibly long minutes, he pulled it out.

  “Temperature is normal. Before we proceed, I’m going to clean you out. Have you ever had an enema, Kyle?”

  Oh... fuck...

  “Yes, Doctor,” I managed to say, though it sounded more like a squeak. An enema? He’d given me enemas before, but never in this context. Before, it was always general hygiene. Now, I knew damn well it was part of the session.

  “Very good,” Master said. “Hop up on the table for me and scoot to the end.” He patted the end of the table and pulled out the stirrups.

  Nervous as all fuck, it took all I had not to shake as I got back up on the table and laid down. Hands on my hips, Master helped me move lower until my ass was practically hanging off the end. Then he put my legs into the stirrups. The leather startled me, snapping my full attention to the very real fact that Master was strapping my legs in place. Unable to move as he spread my legs wide apart, I prayed the cleaning crew wasn't scheduled this evening.

  He left me like that and I closed my eyes, resisting the urge to watch him. I couldn't stop the shaking as the minutes ticked by. I heard him, the sound of water making my thighs twitch. I wanted to close my legs, but he'd locked the stirrups in place. The shaking only grew worse.

  "Just my finger," he said and then I felt his hand on my thigh. I groaned when he pushed a slick finger into my ass, rubbing it around the rim. Then he withdrew and something larger, yet thin, slid inside me. "This is only a quart -- just warm water." There was a click and I gasped as water flowed into me. My hips lifted, but Master pinned me back down gently. "Don't move. Just relax." He rubbed my belly as the water filled me, cramps beginning.

  I opened my mouth to speak, and then remembered I wasn't allowed to. All I could do was moan as the warm water continued flowing. Master shut it off and did something with the tubing. Expecting him to unstrap me, I wasn't expecting the sudden pressure inside. It felt like he was inflating a damn balloon in my ass, trapping the water.

  "You will hold it."

  I swallowed. The command made my cock jump. I nodded, wincing when a slight cramp set in.

  "They will fade." He cupped my balls and lifted them, pressing and rubbing each one. I wanted to beg him to touch my cock, to stroke me, to kiss me, to do... something. "Any tenderness?"

  I shook my head, and then whimpered when he gripped my cock. He squeezed the head and I finally opened my eyes, only to see him reaching for the tube of lubricant. Beside it, on the silver tray, sat an open black case. Silver rods -- from pencil-thin to the largest, which was thick as my thumb -- sparkled under the bright light overhead. Master squirted some lube on the head of my prick and I hissed as he worked it into my slit. I knew what was coming. Fuck...

  Master then picked up the smallest rod and lubed the end. "Just a slight burn, a little pressure."

  When he pressed the end of the sound into my slit, it was a damn good thing I was strapped down. I gripped the edges of the table and gritted my teeth as he eased the slender length of cool steel down into my shaft. I wanted to scream, to beg, to cry out. The fullness, the stretching -- sweet fuck, I needed to come so goddamn bad, I was close to tears. Shaking, unable to do a damn thing about it, I lay there, whimpering.

  "You're doing very well, Kyle."

  The touch of his lips to mine only added to the torture. I sucked on Master's tongue, entire body one tight nerve ready to snap. He pulled back and licked my lips.

  "Are you ready, pet?"

  I nodded. I had no idea what the hell I was ready for, but I didn't care. Anything. Just let me fucking come!

  Master lifted my cock and slowly began pulling the rod out. My eyes rolled back in my head and I opened my mouth. Nothing came out but a pitiful moan. Then... he let go. I practically screamed as the rod dropped back down, sensations sparking up my spine like electric bolts. The water inside me didn't help. The constant pressure against my prostate, the feel of the nozzle plugging my ass...

  He dropped the rod again and I bucked. The paper under my hands shredded, my fingers tearing it apart as need coiled into a huge ball in my gut. Panting, close to exploding, I fought like hell to keep from pleading with everything I had.

  "Come."

  The rod was removed and I cried out, tears escaping my tightly-shut eyes as tremor after tremor tore through my body. By the time it was over, I didn't care that I was crying. Barely aware of anything, before I knew it, Master's arms were around me, soft murmurs drifting down over me. I didn't remember him even taking off the leg restraints. I curled against him, turning on my side so I could burrow into his arms.

  "Shh, I've got you," he whispered. "You did very well." He kissed my head. "Come on. I'll help you to the bathroom, and then we'll clean you up."

  Somehow, my legs managed to work, though I still leaned on him. He helped me to the bathroom across the hall and gently deflated and removed the plug. When I was done, he came back with a towel and washcloth. I felt boneless, but he didn't seem to mind as he wiped the come off of me. Then he stood and kissed me.

  I wanted to thank him, but nothing came out except a moan. Entire body limp, I draped my arms around his neck and held on. Master cupped my chin and smiled down at me, thumb stroking my bottom lip. He hadn't come and his cock dug into me, hard and hot even through his clothes. Feeling bold, I caught his thumb with my lips and grazed my teeth over it. Master's gaze went hot and he growled softly.

  "Trying to get on my good side, boy?"

  I had the good sense not to grin or nod, though I did hum a little. Master removed his thumb and pushed me to my knees. Face level with his crotch, I breathed in, swearing I could smell his scent through two layers of fabric. Fuck, I wanted him -- wanted to touch and taste, to feel his prick flexing on my tongue.

  "You've earned a reward. Make it good."

  A shiver stole up my spine and I undid his pants, easing the zipper down carefully. I lowered the waistband of his black briefs and his thick cock bobbed in front of me, head slick with precome. Master's fingers threaded through my hair and with a tug, he was thrusting into my mouth. I had only a second to relax before the head hit the back of my throat. I closed my eyes and fell into his rhythm, fingers itching to grab his hips and encourage him to move.

  Master, however, never hurried. He took his time, pumping his cock in and out, hot velvet steel sliding over my tongue. I moaned, sucking with every withdrawal, throat relaxing with every push back inside. Master's grunts filled my ears, deep sounds of pleasure that did nothing but ratchet my own need up sky-high.

  "Ready, boy?" he growled, fingers tightening.

  He didn't wait for an answer. With a low rumble, he thrust, thick, salty heat spraying down my throat. I swallowed and almost whimpered when he was done. I licked him clean and tucked him back into his pants. Remaining on my knees, I kept my gaze downcast, licking the last of his flavor and scent from my lips.

  "Tomorrow, we continue."

  Day Two

  Normally, I fix breakfast and serve it. This weekend, though, Master's released me temporarily from that duty and left me with instructions while he went to get breakfast from a restaurant to bring back here. As per his
orders, I took a shower and cleaned up the exam room from the night before. While putting the instruments into the autoclave, I couldn't help but stroke the largest sound. Jesus, that thing was huge. I tried to imagine it sliding into my cock and I cringed. True to nature, though, my prick swelled in response, confirming an observation Master had made a while back: I was a pain slut.

  "You like that one."

  I spun around, knocking over the tray of instruments waiting to be sterilized. I winced as it clattered to the tile floor with a loud, metallic crash. I didn't have to look up to know Master was not happy. I quickly picked everything up and then went to my knees. The minutes ticked by and I chewed on my lower lip, the silence deafening.

  "Get up and bend over the table, hands on the far side."