That Thing Inserted Into My Body
I was facing yet another ordeal I had never once encountered in my entire life.
With trembling hands I slowly brought the object I held closer to my private parts. My pants and panties were already shoved down to my knees, leaving my rear completely exposed, and the hem of my top—which I kept having to haul up with my teeth because it kept sliding down—was every bit as awkward and uncomfortable.
It was crushingly humiliating and mortifying. Why did I have to do something like this right now? And with my own hands, of my own free will, no less. The fact that the place itself was a women’s restroom I was entering for the first time in my life only piled the shame higher. Just finish it and get out. It’s nothing special. Everyone does it.
There was no need to attach any grand meaning to it. That was what I kept telling myself, but I had already failed several times, so the empty self-hypnosis was worthless. At least biting down on the hem of my shirt had been a smart move. Without it I never would have been able to hold back the sounds.
I took one deep breath and steeled myself. Right. I’m a man. My body may have ended up like this, but I’m still a man. Guys do this too. There’s nothing weird about it. And I can’t just keep stalling in here forever. Do it. Just get it over with. I thrust my wrist forward with sudden resolve. And then—
“Hnnngh!!!”
A searing jolt of electricity raced through my entire body. This couldn’t be real. There was no way it could be this sensitive. This was the same place I used every day for bathroom business. How could it react like this to a mere cotton swab? Feeling my eyes suddenly sting, I thought back to what had happened a few hours earlier.
“You’re hired. You can start work.”
“I… really?”
“Well… the labor shortage’s pretty bad these days, and you don’t have any major red flags, so we’ll take you on. But are you sure about this, ma’am? Like I explained, the work here’s pretty rough. Doesn’t look like you’ve done hard labor before.”
To my surprise, the job interview had ended in success. The manager at The Mart who interviewed me had flipped through my papers a few times, then given my body the same once-over, and his face had twisted with pure awkwardness. Panic had set in. If I got rejected here too, I was finished. This was the only place that had even called me in for an interview; I couldn’t just go home empty-handed. So I had looked at him with every ounce of desperate sincerity I could muster.
And miraculously, our eyes met. The reaction that followed was completely unexpected. The moment our gazes locked, the manager let out a little snort of a laugh, and the negative “this is never going to work” vibe from a second ago began to melt away. He flipped through the documents again, still looking uncomfortable, but then said in a tone that clearly meant he was doing me a favor that he would hire me.
I was so happy I almost wanted to kiss him right there if he would let me. Even the blunt way he called me “ma’am” didn’t bother me in the slightest. Wow… I had thought my face hadn’t changed that much, but the second I put “female” on the résumé they just started addressing me that way.
I had half-expected him to at least ask once whether the gender was correct, so the lack of that was a little disappointing. But either way, I had landed a job. The fact that I no longer had to worry about living expenses was wonderful news all by itself. So I signed the contract on the spot, received my uniform, and got a quick rundown of what I would need to do.
There was just one thing I hadn’t seen coming.
“I need to get a health certificate?”
“Ah, yes. That’s required. The public health center is just a short walk from here, so if you get the tests done right away the certificate should be ready next week. Bring that when you come in for your first day. All right, good work today, and I’ll see you next week.”
I felt a twinge of regret. If I had known it would come to this, maybe I should have done something like convenience-store part-time work when I was younger. In my whole life I had never once been told by a workplace to go get a health certificate. Still, I didn’t think much of it. It was just a simple physical, right?
With that thought I headed straight to the public health center in a cheerful little mood. I filled out the forms and went right into the tests; they took an X-ray and said there was only one more thing left. That last thing was the problem.
“Excuse me? What do I have to do? Put this… inside myself?”
“Yes. Go into the restroom over there, insert it, put it in this test tube, close the lid, and bring it back. That’s everything.”
“Um… do I absolutely have to?”
“Of course. Hurry along now. Next, please. Huh? Ma’am over there—that’s the men’s restroom!”
I had been drifting in a daze and nearly walked into the wrong door; I spun around in a panic. But then I had no choice but to stop again. She wanted me to go into the women’s restroom? It was an incredibly awkward demand. How was I supposed to walk into a place I had never set foot in once in my entire life? But there was no time to hesitate. The next person was already coming.
So I scrambled into the women’s restroom, locked myself into a stall, and shut the door.
“Okay. Everything’s fine up to this point. I’m doing great. Now…”
I steadied my breathing and pulled the cotton swab out of the test tube I was clutching. It was no thicker than a toothpick. But regardless of size, the fact that I had to shove this thing into my ass was still pretty unpleasant.
“Ugh, how am I supposed to insert a foreign object like this in there?”
That had always been my firm personal philosophy. That place was strictly for things coming out, not for putting things in. And now I was supposed to insert this, no matter how thin it was? As someone who had once refused suppositories because even those felt too gross, the whole idea was deeply unappealing.
But it was a legitimate part of the examination, so I couldn’t exactly refuse. Swallowing my reluctance, I carefully brought the tip to the entrance. And in that exact instant, something happened that shocked even me.
“Aahngh!”
I slapped my free hand over my mouth in pure terror. What the hell was that? Why had that completely ridiculous moan slipped out of my mouth completely against my will? And the voice, too… I had still been telling myself that at least a thin, masculine voice still came out, but that moan had been an unmistakable, full-on woman’s voice.
Someone might be in one of the other stalls right now, and the mere fact that I had made a sound like that was unbearably humiliating. On top of that, my body was reacting far more sensitively than I had ever imagined, and that threw me into a panic. What… is wrong with me? This isn’t right. And that was how I found myself stuck in this absurd predicament.
“Pwah! Hhk! No!”
The thought alone left me suddenly short of breath; I nearly lost the shirt hem I had been biting and had to clamp down on it again. But that was nothing more than a gag. The hard sensation of the swab inside me registered with brutal intensity in my lower body. It felt… less like a cotton swab and more like some thick rod.
The feeling was… too strange. Why was this happening? It was just a cotton swab, right? So stop reacting like this, body. But ignoring my wishes completely, that place clenched and twitched around the swab as if trying to grip it, and because of that I couldn’t push it any deeper. That was when the nurse’s instructions came back to me.
Push the cotton deep inside, give it one twist, then pull it out.
Push it… deep? And I have to twist it too? I couldn’t handle that. I couldn’t even imagine what would happen if I did. Why was this happening? Were all women just like this by default? I simply could not adapt to a body that reacted however it wanted, completely independent of my will.
So I put strength into my wrist and pushed. The deeper I forced it, the more the stimulation seemed to spread through my entire body. In particular, sharp little sparks seemed to concentrate at the tips of my toes and my nipples. Just a little more… I just need to get it a little deeper. I felt fresh sweat break out all over me again.
With a motion that felt almost like self-harm, I finally managed to stab the swab in to what seemed like a reasonable depth. In the process I had bitten down on the cloth so hard to smother the moans that I half-wondered if I might tear the fabric. But one final hurdle still remained.
I have to… twist it? After I do that, will I really be okay? I had no confidence at all. But I had to. So I squeezed my eyes shut and twisted it with my fingers.
“Hnnngh! Aaahn!”
Disaster finally struck. A sensation I truly could never have imagined exploded from my rectum and flooded every corner of my body. I finally lost my grip on the shirt and the moan tore free. At the same time the strength left my legs; the awkward half-crouch collapsed and I dropped straight onto the toilet seat.
“Hah! Hah! Hah!”
I gasped for breath in a half-dazed fog. An indescribable, unpleasant feeling seemed to wash over my entire body. And even though I had let go of the swab, it hadn’t fallen to the floor or into the toilet—that fact alone filled me with miserable despair. My ass was still gripping it tightly.
I spent a long time just trying to steady my breathing. In that moment I heard the sound of people leaving the stall next to mine. Ah… so there really had been someone there. Realizing that made a fresh wave of crushing shame rise up. Endure it. Just endure it. Don’t start crying. Get through this like a man. This too shall pass someday.
With that thought I challenged the final step. Once again I had to pull the swab free from an ass that was clinging to it with a will of its own. Feeling as though I were tearing the sticky, clinging membrane that refused to let go, I forced it out.
I shoved it into the test tube and then had to catch my breath all over again. The swab, fouled with fecal matter, looked for all the world like some alien lifeform from a movie that had burrowed into a human body to grow, and it left me feeling as if I had been raped by the thing.
After more than thirty minutes of fighting myself inside that stall, I finally emerged completely drained. In the hallway, women who were walking past looked at me coming out of the restroom and gave me open looks of disgust. Why… why were they looking at me like that? I just hurried past them to turn the sample in, and then I heard the words behind me.
“What the hell? That crazy slut?”
“I thought she was some totally shameless whore, but she’s just a plain middle-aged lady?”
“Ugh, gross. Who does that in a public place?”
What kind of misunderstanding they were under was perfectly clear without any explanation. And I had absolutely nothing I could say in my own defense. So I forced down the heat rising in my face, hurriedly handed the sample over, cursed my body that still felt raw and hypersensitive, and fled the public health center as fast as I could.
A few days later the health certificate arrived, and I set out for my first day of work with it in hand.