As a trans womxn who lives in a community that isn’t completely accepting or understanding of \*Queer individuals, I often present as male in the day for convenience’s sake. Perhaps that may have been why my family doctor ordered me to go for a digital rectal exam to get my prostate checked at a urologist’s.

He introduced himself as Dr. \*Chad, and he walked with that confident gait that told everyone in the room that he was what the MRAs would call an “Alpha”. He gripped my hand with vicelike strength, and I couldn’t help but notice how thick and rough his fingers were. Little did I know that I was going to be far more acquainted with those fingers in the next hour than I would have liked.

He asked me to bend over his examination table. The smell of disinfectant and the cold faux leather of the table made my nipples harden. My sphincter twitched involuntarily as he slid a lube-covered finger into me. Then he moved his finger. All of a sudden it hit me. A warmth spread throughout my groin, and I started shuddering uncontrollably. He increased the pressure, and I let out a small moan. I felt him quicken his finger strokes against my organ. What happened next haunts me to this very day. I groaned involuntarily in pleasure as a stream of thick clear liquid escaped the tip of my manhood into a sample jar waiting below.

After I left the room, I could feel the stares from the patients in the waiting room boring holes into my gender identity. The receptionist gave me a knowing smirk as I walked past her desk. On the drive back, all I could focus on was the wet emptiness inside me, yearning to be filled.

When I got home, I immediately filled my bathtub. Tears flowed commingled with the bathwater as I scrubbed every inch of me, trying to cleanse my self of my perceived defilement. Yet I was most ashamed of the fact that I had came against my own will whilst being violated. By feeling even a slightest bit of pleasure, it felt as if I had given Dr. Chad a victory for the patriarchy. I felt betrayed by my body, and goddess knows just how familiar a trans womxn like myself is with that. To this day, I have phobia of doctors, and I have never been back to my doctor despite almost dying of pneumonia last winter. Yet the worst was yet to come.

I reached inside myself, not to seek the same pleasure I had found in Dr. Chad’s office, but to purge every last bit of his presence from body. As I withdrew my fingers, something floated to the top of the bathwater along with my cum.

It was a piece of paper, and on it was written a phone number and the words “Call Me? ;)”