Dilation Training

A short story by Mistress Veronica

You lie on the cool, unforgiving surface, your body a canvas already undergoing radical transformation. Weeks of intensive stretching have rendered your limbs more pliable, your muscles longer, your every joint yielding more than you ever thought possible. You are no longer merely yourself; you are a project, a sculpture in progress, molded by my will and intention. Every ache, every strain, every new dimension of your flexibility is a testament to my meticulous work. And today, the focus returns to an even more intimate alteration.

You see the array of polished steel, glinting under the clinical light. The sounds. You know them well. You remember the first, a whisper-thin probe that felt monumental against the virgin opening of your urethra. How small it was then, a mere pinprick, a fearful peep-eye into your own depths. Now, the smallest of these instruments is a substantial rod, one you’ve long since accommodated. Your passage has already been stretched, expanded, desensitised to a degree you once believed impossible. But ‘impossible’ is a word I do not recognize.

My hand is steady as I begin. You flinch imperceptibly as the first, familiar sound slides in, cool and invasive. It’s a size that would have once made you gasp, but now it merely fills you, a comfortable, if unsettling, fullness. I wait, giving your body time to adjust, to accept this current intrusion. You feel it all the way down, a peculiar pressure, a strange internal stretch.

Then comes the next. A size larger. You tense, a low hum of protest vibrating through your muscles. It requires a more deliberate push, a slow, insistent pressure that makes your breath catch. You feel the distinct pull, the yielding of tissue, the internal widening. It’s not pain, not exactly, but a deep, pervasive ache, a signal that your delicate internal mechanisms are being reshaped. This is not just entry, you know; it is expansion. It is the beginning of the molding.

One by one, the sounds progress. Each larger than the last, each pushing you further, demanding more from your body. You are aware of the subtle tearing, the microscopic stretching of the delicate walls within. With each insertion, a new sensation takes hold – from fullness to tautness, from tautness to a profound, internal stretch that feels like your very core is being unraveled. Your breath comes in shallow gasps, your eyes fixed on the ceiling, silently pleading for a reprieve that will not come.

The current sound fills you completely, a rigid, unyielding occupant that leaves no space, no gap within your passage. You are stretched to your perceived limit. Your body screams ‘enough,’ a silent, desperate plea reverberating through your bones. The sensation is one of absolute internal pressure, a burning awareness that your urethra is stretched to its absolute maximum. You can feel the skin thin, translucent, barely containing the steel within.

But ‘enough’ is never enough. Not for what I intend.

My hand does not waver. I select the next sound, significantly larger than the one currently occupying you. You know, with a chilling certainty, that this is the one that will break you, that will push your limits beyond anything you’ve ever imagined. A slow, relentless pressure begins. You cry out, a raw, primal sound ripped from your throat. Your body arches, arms clenching, toes curling. It’s not just stretching now; it’s a profound, agonising reshaping. You feel the resistance, the stubborn refusal of your body, and then, a sudden, searing give. A burning, tearing sensation as the new, massive diameter forces its way in, stretching your passage beyond what you believed capable of enduring.

There is a moment of blinding white, a dizzying nausea, and then, a dull, throbbing ache settles in. You are stretched, distended, hollowed out. The final sound sits fully within you, an undeniable proof of the transformation. It is a permanent, internal alteration, a cavern where there was once only a confined tunnel.

When it is finally withdrawn, the sensation is one of vast, aching emptiness, yet also of profound, irreversible change. Your passage is no longer what it was. It is wider, permanently altered, a gaping maw where there was once a tight, private channel.

This body, your body, is no longer truly yours. It is a canvas, a sculpture, molded by My will, every stretch, every ache, every new dimension a testament to My ultimate ownership. You will remember this day, every time you urinate, every time you feel the new, hollow expanse within you. You will remember. And you will understand that this is only the beginning of what I will make of you.

View the accompanying uncensored images and video here