Have you ever gotten around to writing any stories with rectal temperatures taking?
I will admit that the idea of being bent over, inspected and having my temperature taken (rectally of course) is a huge turn on for me.
I also find the idea of “free use” type scenario with rectal temperatures a massive turn on which gets me super exciting while also embarrassed - having to carry a rectal thermometer with a small tub of lube and be told at any time that I need to find somewhere to take my temperature right now gets me embarrassingly wet…
Other than School Nurse I haven't written many temperature taking stories, so here's a little treat for you.
Knowing at any time you might receive a message instructing you to take your temperature rectally is extremely hot.
You might be at home, or in the office. Or visiting the home of a friend, when your phone buzzes and you blush when you recognise the message. You quickly excuse yourself, taking your bag with you, locking yourself in the bathroom.
How embarrassing to have to kneel on the floor and pull down your panties. To raise your bare bottom as if for a spanking, but instead you prop your phone against your heels, the self timer already counting down. You reach back and pull your cheeks apart, showing the camera your bottom is clean and ready for inspection.
You send the picture, dipping the tip of the thermometer into the lube, knowing at this very moment your most intimate places are being closely scrutinised. Seen from this angle, the subtle signs of your arousal are always visible.
Now you slip the thermometer into your bum. It's so small, but the way you clench always makes it feel so much thicker. You prepare the timer to take another picture, this one will show the temperature you've measured.
Picture sent, you hurry to make yourself decent again, wiping away your emerging wetness and pulling up your panties. You rapidly clean your thermometer before hiding it away in your bag. You lather your hands thoroughly and splash cold water on your face, hoping to wash away the bright pink blush on your cheeks. But nothing will wipe that kind of pinkness away.
You return to your friend before you're gone too long. You know they wouldn't worry about your absence, but might start wondering if something more than ablutions was going on in their bathroom. As you return, you can feel the heat radiating from your face, but the glow between your legs is even hotter.
Neediness, shame, lust - these are kinds of heat a thermometer can never measure.
