Gyno exam orgasms

November 10, 2010
By

Tracy Lee Smith stared at her nude reflection in the mirror.

She knew every inch, every statistic associated with her refection. She
was five foot three and one half inches tall, weighed 105 pounds soaking
wet.

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Her measurements were 33-24-35, a perfect size five, although she could
wear a size six equally as well. Her shoe size was also a size 6, 6B to
be exact. She wore a size 4 panties and a 32 B bra.

Her high firm breasts were neither too large nor too small for her
slender appearing body. Long blonde hair fell in lose waves to just
below her shoulders, accenting her golden tan.


It was a beautiful body she knew, one that caused long admiring looks
from men and quick jealous glances from women.

A body in excellent physical health and tone, obviously a woman who
exercised frequently to keep herself in shape. A perfect body… except
for one little problem. It wasn’t the body she had been born with.

In fact, until she had been so rudely thrust into the body, it hadn’t
even been one of her own gender.

Until a week ago, Tracy Lee Smith had been a man.

-0-0-0-

“Now Tracy, until you settle down we won’t be able to finish the tests.”

“But I don’t feel sick, doctor.” Tracy said squirming uncomfortably as
the gray haired doctor attached some electrodes to his chest. The
conductive cream on the rubber cups was cold against his skin. He stared
at the ceiling of the examination room, willing himself to ignore the
cold electrodes.

“Right at this minute, yes. But as I’ve told you, you could drop over
dead at any second.” The doctor said, as he adjusted some dials on a
machine sitting next to the examination table.

Tracy glanced over at the machine and watched a needle on a dial swing
wildly from one side to the other. He looked up at the ceiling again. In
spite of his assertion that he was feeling fine, he felt a his stomach
become a little queasy.

“What is that thing supposed to show?” Tracy indicated with a nod of his
head the machine the doctor was adjusting.

“It measures your heart rate, among other things. Now be still until I
finish the reading.” The doctor commanded.

Tracy resumed watching the ceiling. In the half hour he had been laying
on his back, covered with only a small towel over his hips, the ceiling
hadn’t moved an inch. The doctor moved the small lamp that was
illuminating the room, sending the ceiling into darker shadows.

Tracy closed his eyes and sighed.

He must have fallen asleep; he realized when the doctor removed the
rubber cups with a quick snap of his wrist. Tracy rubbed his eyes and
yawned.

“Are you about through with that?” He was relaxed from his little nap,
but still annoyed that the doctor would ruin his afternoon like he had.

“All done. While you were taking you nap, I managed to complete all of
the necessary tests.” The doctor walked to the doorway and flipped a
light switch on. The bright fluorescent lights momentarily blinded
Tracy, causing him to blink.

“You can get dressed now. When you’re ready, come to my office and we’ll
discuss the tests results.”

A few minutes later Tracy knocked on the doctor’s office door. The
doctor invited him in and Tracy opened the door.

“Please sit down, Tracy. We have a lot to talk about.”

Tracy sat down in the easy chair across from the doctor.

“Tracy, I’m afraid that I have rather bad news for you.” The doctor
began gravely. “You’re dying.”

“So you’ve said.” Tracy said. His tone was almost defensive. All this
talk about him dying was making him nervous. “I think you’re wrong, I
feel fine.”

The doctor sighed. “I know. But all the tests indicate that you won’t
live much more than five or six months. Your heart could give out just
like that.” The doctor snapped his fingers. “Or it could slowly
deteriorate until it just quits. Either way, you’ll die.

“Is there anything we can do? A heart transplant or something?” Tracy
asked hopefully.

The doctor shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. Not even a heart transplant
will help. The only thing that would save you is a complete new body.”

Tracy looked dejectedly down at the floor. The doctor’s diagnosis was
exactly the same as the three other doctors he had seen. There was no
hope.

It wasn’t as though he’d abused his body. He’d exercised regularly,
didn’t smoke or drink and ate the right kinds of foods. Despite his
careful regiment, the doctors had all told him the same thing, he was
dying.

“I see.” Tracy started to rise. The doctor stopped him.

“Wait, Mr. Smith. I said that a heart transplant wouldn’t work.”

“So you said.” Tracy looked at the doctor expectantly.

“I read that there’s an experimental transplant research going on over
at the University Medical Center. It involves whole body transplants.”

“Whole body transplants?” Tracy sat back down in the chair.

“Well, not exactly the whole body. It seems that what they do is
transplant a part of the brain, the part that contains the personality
of the patient, into the brain of the donor.”

“A brain transplant? That sounds like something out of a science fiction
movie. It isn’t possible is it?”

“The Doctors at the Center seem to think so.” The doctor grew silent
while he waited for Tracy to digest the implications. “Mr. Smith, I’d
like to sign you up for the program.”

Tracy hesitated. “A brain transplant? I, I’m not sure…”

“Mr. Smith… Tracy, you have nothing to lose. At worse you’ll die in
six months anyway. At best, you’ll have a new life with many years ahead
of you.” The doctor smiled and pushed a stack of papers across his desk
to Tracy. “Go ahead and sign, Tracy, you’ve got nothing to lose.”

Tracy picked up the pen and began signing the consent forms. When he had
signed the last one he felt as though a weight had been removed from his
shoulders. All he had to do now is wait. He hoped it wouldn’t be too
long.

-0-0-0-

The young messenger handed the clerk the thick envelope. As she took it
the young man leered at her, causing her to blush. She signed the
receipt and dismissed him with her eyes.

“Thanks a lot, gorgeous.” The messenger leered again.

“Your welcome, creep.” The woman said under her breath. She waited until
the messenger left the room before she opened the envelope. It was an
application for the experimental brain transplant program.

“What is it, Mary?” A woman asked from behind her.

“An application for the brain transplant program, Mrs. Harris.” Mary
said.

She read the cover letter from the doctor. “Looks like just what the
doctors are looking for.”

She thumbed through the release forms. “Damn, why don’t they fill these
things out properly?”

“What’s the matter?”

“The doctor forgot to fill out the sex of the patient.”

Mrs. Harris glanced at the forms in Mary’s hand. “What’s the name?”
“Tracy Lee Smith.” “Tracy Leigh? Pretty name. Sounds like she’s a girl,
Mary. Mark ‘female’ in the gender blanks and send it up to the
committee.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mary did as she was told.

-0-0-0-

“Well, Doctors, it would appear that we have a donor and a recipient
that are a match.” Doctor Hiram Bradshaw said to the Ethics committee.

The doctors looked excitedly at each other. “How close?” One of the
doctors asked.

Bradshaw looked at his notes again. “Out of a possible 100 points,
they’re a match at 96 points. They could be siblings.”

“If they’re that close, then why did you call us together?”

Another doctor asked. “Both have volunteered for the program, otherwise
we wouldn’t have even cross matched them. You don’t need the Ethics
Committee to decide whether or not to proceed.”

“Under normal circumstances, no. But this is a rather unusual case.”
Bradshaw paused. For the thousandth time he wondered how such a mistake
could have happened. “I believe I already mentioned that the patient and
the donor could be siblings.”

The committee nodded as one in confirmation.

“The problem is if they were, they would be brother and sister. They are
different genders, Doctors. So the question you must decide tonight is
do we deny the transplant and allow the recipient to die, or do we
proceed and turn a young man into a young woman?”

“Is there another patient or donor that we could use instead?”

“No.”

The Doctors looked at each other for a few minutes, each lost in their
own thoughts. Sometimes, the Ethics Committee had to decide more than
just the black and white decisions of life or death.

“Has this been discussed with the patient?”

Doctor Bradshaw shook his head. “No. The error wasn’t discovered until
the patient had been prepped and was in the operating room.”

“They’re ready to proceed now?”

Doctor Bradshaw’s silence confirmed the fact. The doctors looked at each
other again and nodded to the Ethics Committee Chairperson, a brilliant
young Gynecologist by the name of Nancy Webb.

“The Committee recommends that you proceed, Doctor Bradshaw.” She said.

Doctor Bradshaw smiled and gave the committee a slight nod. Now no
matter what happened it was no longer his responsibility. “Thank you
Doctors.”

-0-0-0-

Tracy almost panicked when he realized that he couldn’t move. His
fledgling struggles stopped when he heard a woman’s voice telling him to
relax.

Tracy opened his eyes and looked up at the woman. She smiled back down
at him.

“Hello Tracy. My name is Doctor Webb, I’m the Chief of Staff and Chair
the Ethics Committee. The operation was a total success, Tracy. You’ll
be able to get up and walk around tomorrow. But in the meantime, I’ve
ordered bed rest, to allow you to adjust to your new body.”

Tracy blinked his eyes. His new body… his mind was in someone else’s
body. That would take some getting use to. He wondered if he would be as
tall as he had been before.

“How do I look?” Tracy managed to crock out. His throat was still sore
from the tubes he knew they had stuck in him. His voice sounded a little
strange, as though he had changed from a bass to a tenor.

“Under the circumstances, quite good really.” The doctor smiled. “The
donor was in excellent health and condition. I think that you’ll find it
will service you well for many years to come.”

Years? “How old?”

“I believe the donor’s records indicated that you will be celebrating
your twentieth birthday in another two months.”

My new body is only nineteen!, Tracy thought. He’d lost nearly twenty
years off of his real age. My, God, what I can do with another twenty
years added to my life, Tracy thought. His thoughts were interrupted by
a sharp pick in his arm. He glanced down just as the doctor removed a
syringe.

“I think that you need to sleep now, Tracy.” She said smiling. “When you
wake up again, you’ll be in your room, and on the way to recovery.”

Tracy tried to thank the doctor but was asleep before he could open his
mouth.

-0-0-0-

“Ah, we meet again, Tracy.” Doctor Webb smiled down at Tracy when he
opened his eyes. Tracy looked around the room. He was in the hospital
room he’d been assigned, or one just like it, his hands seemed to be
held down by restraints.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” Tracy said truthfully. In fact he’d never felt more alive in his
life. It was amazing what a new healthy body twenty younger could do for
you.

“I need to do some tests.” The doctor smiled and moved to the end of the
bed. “So if you’ll bare with me for a while….” She ran her thumbnail
along the sole of Tracy’s foot. It jerked. The doctor did the same test
with the other foot with the same results.

“Now wiggle you toes.” The doctor watched intently as Tracy did as he’d
been ordered. She proceeded to check his fingers, all appeared to be
working as nature intended.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” Tracy said, feeling a pressure in his
bladder.

“That’s the catheter. It makes you think that you have to go, actually
it does the work for you. Tomorrow we’ll remove it.”

Tracy nodded, there wasn’t much to say about it. Still, it was an odd,
strangely unsatisfying feeling.

“Can you at least remove the restraints from my wrists?” Tracy asked.

“No, not yet. There is still a lot of tubes sticking in your arms and we
don’t want you to disturb them just yet.”

Tracy protest that he wouldn’t was cut short by the firm “doctor knows
best” look the doctor shot him. Tracy sighed and resolved himself to
being confined to bed for a while longer.

“But what if I get hungry?”

“The orderly will feed you.” Doctor Webb patted his thigh. “Don’t rush
it. You’ll be up and out of here in less than a week.”

“Yeah, sure.” Tracy replied.

They chatted for a while until the doctor’s pager went off. She glanced
at the number and excused herself, leaving Tracy alone with his new body
and his thoughts.

About an hour later, an orderly, a very attractive young woman, came in
with lunch. Tracy knew he hadn’t eaten in over 24 hours, but could eat
only half of it before feeling full. The orderly put the Television
remote control in his hand and left the room.

Tracy turned on the TV and ran it through the entire range of channels.
Nothing much interested him, so he turned down the sound to a whisper
and left it on. If nothing else, it would be a passive companion.

Tracy was bored. And with boredom, came the chance to think about his
new body. Since he was restrained hand and foot, he could do nothing
more than try to explore his body with his mind. Concentrating on each
feeling until he could identify it, Tracy went about mentally exploring
his body.

Some sensations, like the catheter hose taped to his inner thigh were
easy to identify and catalog. Others, such as the strange feeling of
sensitivity as the sheet rubbed across his chest were not.

Some things he just guessed at. Like his height, he knew he was shorter
than he had been before, and consequently probably weighed less too.

Tracy couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something wrong with his
body. It wasn’t just that it wasn’t his, it was more than that. There
were subtle differences that he could feel, some like his guess about
his height were difficult to explain.

Some were less so, like the weight on his chest. The donor had obviously
worked out a lot, and had developed his pectoral muscles almost to the
point of being grotesque.

He had neatly cataloged his body, or at least most of it when he began
to notice a warm tickle of liquid flowing down ward between his legs.
Concerned that the catheter had sprung a leak, Tracy pushed the buzzer
button to summon the nurse.

A few minutes later, an attractive nurse he’d never seen before came
into the room.

“I’m Nurse Webster. Is there something wrong, Tracy?” She asked.

Tracy wondered briefly why all of the medical staff kept using his first
name. He was unaware that they had been given orders to use his first
name to prevent a slip. In his current body, he certainly didn’t look
like a Mister. Tracy explained what he thought had occurred. The nurse
raised the sheet and his hospital gown and carefully inspected the area
in question.

“It’s alright. You must be imagining things. Besides what little leakage
their might be will be caught by the under pad.” She turned to leave.

“Wait Nurse, please.” She turned around and waited. “I’ve been laying
here since I woke up this morning. There’s something I have to know.”

A strange look crossed the nurse’s face. “Certainly Tracy, I’ll tell you
if I can.”

“What color are my eyes and hair?”

“Blue and blonde, in that order. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She said
spinning on her heel and walking out of the room leaving Tracy with
nothing more than a memory of her terrific looking figure.

A blue-eyed blond, Tracy thought.

Just after dinner, Doctor Webb returned along with another doctor Tracy
thought he recognized.

“Good evening Tracy, how are you feeling now?” Doctor Webb asked.

Tracy glanced at the other doctor.

“Oh, excuse me. This is Doctor Bradshaw, he’s the Doctor that headed the
surgical team in your transplant.” Doctor Bradshaw nodded, but remained
silent, he was busy doing the same tests Doctor Webb had performed
earlier that day.

“Doctor Webb? I want to know something.”

She looked expectantly at Tracy.

“Is this new body of mine a girl?”

The doctors glanced at each other. “Uh

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