Hah! Another Dilation Milestone passed.
Yesterday I dilated only with Big Jim. And henceforth, only Jim will get a look-in where doing the honours with my vagina is concerned. Lucky Jim, in fact. (That's a literary joke)
For those who have not yet crossed the Rubicon, when you leave hospital after the op you are provided (in the UK anyway) with two clear persplex rods called dilators. These look like miniature intercontinental ballistic missiles, that is, rockets with a smoothly blunted nose (that being the part that penetrates your vagina) and a flat base (which makes it easy to keep the thing in with slight pressure from a finger or two, once it's been inserted as far as it will go). But no fins, of course. And no little US or EU or United Federation of Planets logo. Just the purity of the transparent perspex: clinically simple and minimalist. They could be examples of modern art.
They are in fact way too clinical to be remotely sexy. I suppose a high-tech robot might regard them as ideal sex toys, but you and I won't get worked up over them, not unless you have a much better imagination than I have! For one thing, they are not really penis-shaped - no bulge at the end, for instance - and they are rock-hard, lacking that slight squeezability that even the most rampant willy has. Nor do they throb or vibrate, or have sound-effects (such as a 'realistic chuffing sound', as James May kept on saying about his Flying Scotsman toy train in the Great Train Race challenge on BBC2 the other night).
And quite right. They are intended for a single purpose, to enter and distend your new vagina so that it keeps its length and shape. And additionally, in the first vital few weeks after the op, they help ensure that the various tissues that have been attached to the interior muscles in the surgical procedure stay in place and bond with them. Once the possibility of a prolapse has receded, these dilators will have to be used lifelong, to keep the vaginal passage open - because, given time, those interior muscles like to close up the cavity created for the vagina, and also the skin surfaces inside the vagina may want to attach to each other. So using a dilator enables you to keep the vagina running as a going concern, open all hours and always ready for business. Look on the dilator as an ice-breaker, thrusting its way through the pack ice and keeping the shipping lane clear for giant oil tankers. Except that actually it's warm and moist in there.
Enough of these fanciful images, and on to the point of this post.
Both of the two dilators are 19cm (7.5 inches) long, but one is thicker than the other - they have diameters of 25mm and 30mm respectively. That 5mm makes a noticeable difference in girth, rather frightening at first. How will I get that in, you say. But of course you quickly learn how to. And with the aid of a liberal smear of KY jelly - smeared over half the length of the dilator before insertion, that is - each dilator will go in smoothly.
At first you use both in each session. The small one opens up the vagina and gets it used to having such a thing inside. Then, after a set number of minutes, you take it out and put in the big one, which stretches the vagina out a bit more, and makes sure that the internal skin is bonding properly with the surrounding muscle. Again you count the minutes. Then out it comes. You clean up, and repeat the process as directed. To begin with, that means three times a day. After a while it comes down to twice a day (which dominates your life much less), then once a day, and eventually once a week.
But it continues for the rest of your life, even if in between sessions you get the opportunity for natural penetration. This is because natural sex is rhythmical and may not involve anything like full penetration - certainly no man is going to push his member deep into you, and then obligingly hold it in there, quite still, for twenty minutes. For one thing, without movement the thing could deflate; or he may not have the lust to keep it erect for so long; or his belly (or yours) may physically prevent a deep and prolonged thrust. Or he may fall asleep, or not want conversation, or need to break off for a sandwich. There are many possible snags.
Anyway - we're getting close to the crux, nub or kernel now - eventually the vagina gets used to being stretched out, and can retain its proper shape in between sessions. At that point, you begin to consider even larger dilators, to 'school' the vagina, training it to expand just a little more, so that it can accept super-sized penis-shaped objects up to its natural limit. I have now reached that point. Certainly, the small dilator, Little Joe, has been doing nothing useful lately. So yesterday he got the push.
Sorry, Joe. I know that 'Goodbye' is the hardest word in the world, but better we part now, and have a clean break, than drag on in ritual fashion for months and months, when you know, and I know, that's it's over. At least I was able to tell you to your face.
Joe, can't you see: Jim is the better one for me. Jim can do things for me that you can't. It's not your fault. You're just too thin.
So now it's Big Jim's chance to do it all on his own. This will have positive consequences. For one thing, with only one dilator in use, my KY jelly bill will be halved, and with less wiping, there will be a small saving on kitchen tissues. In theory, too, the time needed for each dilation session will be reduced; but I may well give Jim rather longer than when he was sharing the action.
Until he too gets the push. Then I shall look at a larger-diameter dilator. 32mm, maybe even 35mm.