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Tyler stared at the words on the clinic door like it could change.
Dr. Joan Dun — Gynecology & Gender-Affirming Care
His hands were cold. He kept touching the referral paper like it meant anything. It didn’t. Not when he was sitting in a waiting room full of outdated women’s magazines, a pamphlet about menopause beside one that said “Your Daughter’s First Visit”.
He'd rehearsed a hundred reasons to leave.
But then the nurse called his name. “Mr Tyler Joseph ?”
He stood. Voice caught in his throat. Nodded.
She smiled and gestured him back. “We’re in 3B, follow me.”
It was like walking on glass. Every step crackled with old shame, childhood discomfort, silent prayers : Please just see me as i am.
The nurse was polite, efficient. Not overly cheery, thank God. Once he was in the room, she handed him a gown and a folded sheet. “You can undress from the waist down, cover with this. Dr. Dun will be in shortly.”
Tyler waited until she left to move. Gown in hand, he sat frozen on the exam table. He hadn’t shaved. He hadn’t even looked down there in months. It wasn’t like he didn’t know his own body. He just... didn’t visit.
When he finally pulled his pants down, he did it slowly. He laid back, tucked the sheet over his hips. Closed his eyes.
Then, a soft knock.
“Tyler ? It’s Dr. Dun. May I come in ?”
His heart hiccupped. “Yes.”
The door opened.
She was beautiful.
Not in the sterile way doctors can be, all sharp cheekbones and expensive shoes, but in the way a sunset is beautiful. Warm. Sweet. Her hair, half black half red, was pulled back in the most perfect messy bun. Curls dropped perfectly on each sides of her face like a frame.
Tyler realized that she was transgender as well and felt some sort of comfort invading his chest.
“Hi,” she said, closing the door gently. “You made it.”
“Yeah,” Tyler muttered, suddenly feeling like a twelve-year-old.
Dr. Dun smiled, not patronizingly. She moved with practiced quiet, taking a seat across from him, flipping open a chart on her tablet.
“I see you’re here for a pelvic exam,” she said, tone neutral. “And that you’re currently on testosterone ?”
He nodded. “Yes. Uh, ten years now.”
“Great. How’s that been for you ?”
Tyler blinked. No one ever asked like that. “Pretty good,” he said after a pause. “I pass. I mean... mostly.”
“You pass,” she said firmly with a smile. “No ‘mostly’ about it.”
He looked down, his cheeks warm.
She went on, “Just so you know, we’ll only do what you’re comfortable with today. I’ll talk through everything before I do it, and you can stop me at any time. Okay ?”
Tyler nodded.
Dr. Dun pulled on a pair of gloves and clicked her light on. “Have you had a pelvic exam since starting T ?”
“No.”
“Alright. So today, I’ll start externally. I’ll look at the skin, tissue health, and then, if you consent, do an internal speculum exam to check your cervix and take a pap if needed. We can skip anything. You’re in control here.”
Tyler nodded again. His throat was tight.
She rolled her stool toward the table. “Okay. Can you slide your hips to the edge for me ?”
He moved stiffly, knees trembling as he placed his heels in the stirrups, spreading his legs wide. The gown opened, and he hated the exposure, but Dr. Dun kept her eyes gentle, her hands slow.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “I’m going to lift the sheet now.”
She did, folding it neatly over his knees. He stared at the ceiling.
Her gloved fingers parted him carefully. No sudden movements. No cold instruments. Just presence.
“You’re on T, so some changes are totally normal. Your labia have thinned a little, which is expected. Any pain with penetration or during sex ?”
“I don't have sex,” he admitted. “I mean, not like this.”
She nodded. “We can talk about topical estrogen later if you feel any dryness or discomfort in your daily life. Totally safe and doesn’t affect your systemic hormones.”
He swallowed. “Okay.”
She leaned closer, squinting slightly. Then paused.
“Tyler, would it be alright if I take a closer look at your clitoris ?”
His breath caught. He tensed.
“I know that might sound strange,” she added quickly. “But I notice some significant growth, which is again, completely normal with testosterone. I want to make sure the skin is healthy and there’s no adherence or irritation.”
He blinked. Unsure about it.
“If you’re comfortable, I’d like to gently palpate the tissue to check mobility. But only if you say yes.”
Tyler felt a strange ache behind his ribs. He’d never had anyone, not even his wife, acknowledge that part of him without skirting around it. Without pretending it wasn’t there.
“You can,” he said, voice rough. “Yeah.”
“Thank you.”
Her fingers were steady. She touched it like it was what it was, not a mistake, not an embarrassment. Just flesh. Real and his.
He felt heat rise in his cheeks, not from shame but from something gentler : relief.
She pulled back the foreskin gently with her gloved hands. “You’ve got good blood flow,” she murmured. “The shaft is mobile, no adhesions. Sensitivity okay ?”
“Yes,” he whispered, discovering new sensations.
She pulled back. Covered him again.
“You’re doing great,” she said. “Do you want to continue with the internal exam, or stop here ?”
He breathed. Thought. “Go ahead.”
She nodded, swapped gloves, and prepared the speculum. “I’m using the medium size. I’ll insert slowly. You just breathe. If it hurts, even a little, we stop. Got me ?”
“Got you.”
She worked with quiet concentration. It didn’t feel good, but it didn’t feel violating. She talked him through it. Her gentle eyes focused on what she was doing.
“Cervix looks healthy,” she said after a minute. “I'm taking the sample now.”
He flinched slightly. She paused.
Then Dr. Dun withdrew the speculum with slow, practiced hands, and Tyler exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for years.
“All done with that part,” she said gently, setting the instrument aside. It was covered in whitish discharge, nothing unusual. “You did really well.”
He didn’t feel like he had. Sweat clung to the back of his knees. His arms felt hollow. But he nodded, eyes locked on the ceiling tiles like they might rearrange themselves into something more interesting.
“I’d like to finish with a bimanual exam,” she added, removing one glove and snapping on a fresh pair. “It’s where I gently insert two fingers inside and use my other hand on your abdomen to feel your internal organs : uterus, ovaries, vaginal walls. It helps me check for tenderness, position, or anything unusual.”
He swallowed hard. “Okay.”
“You can say no,” she reminded, voice calm. “But it’ll give me the most complete picture. Especially since you haven’t had one since starting T.”
“I want to get it over with,” Tyler muttered.
Dr. Dun gave a small nod. “Alright. I’m using a well lubricated glove so it doesn't hurt at all. It might feel strange, maybe some pressure, but it shouldn’t hurt. Let me know if anything feels off.”
He braced his arms at his sides and nodded.
She reached down, slow and steady, her gloved hand pressing gently between his legs. The gel was cold, but her touch wasn’t.
“Starting now,” she said softly.
Her fingers entered him carefully, angling downward and then up, a motion that made Tyler flinch at first. Not from pain, exactly, but from the sudden intimacy of it. His body clenched and twitched against his will.
“You okay ?” she asked quietly.
“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth. “It's just... weird.”
“Understandable.” Her tone never wavered, steady, clinical, reassuring. “I’m just palpating your anterior wall now.”
He could feel the pressure, her other hand pressing lightly down on his lower abdomen while her internal fingers curled upward, exploring gently. It was intimate, yes, but not sexual. It was the kind of touch that said I know what I’m doing. I’m here to help.
“There’s some fullness near your anterior fornix,” she murmured, half to herself. “Normal variation, likely paraurethral glands. Your vaginal walls have good tone. No signs of atrophy.”
Then something unexpected happened. A pressure built, fast, sharp, behind his pelvis. Not pain. Not pleasure. Just intensity. A sudden clench. A snap.
Tyler gasped as his pelvic floor spasmed, his whole lower half jolting.
In a single, hot rush, he released.
A wet, startling sound splashed against Dr. Dun’s gown and gloves. A few drops ended on her chin. The sharp scent of slickness, salt and skin, filled the air.
“Oh my God,” he choked. “I didn’t— I didn’t mean—”
He tried to sit up, but Dr. Dun held his knee gently, keeping him grounded.
“Tyler,” she said firmly. “It’s okay.”
“I didn’t even— I didn’t do anything—” His voice broke. “I didn’t even feel turned on.”
“You weren’t,” she said calmly, withdrawing her fingers and reaching for a clean towel. “This can happen. It’s not uncommon, especially for transmasc patients on T. The clitoral shaft and paraurethral glands can become more sensitive, sometimes the stimulation from a bimanual exam triggers involuntary release.”
“But I— it got on you—” He felt heat crawling up his neck, shame rising in his chest like a wave.
She wiped her gloves, gown and jaw off with clinical precision, unbothered. “I’ve had patients sneeze on me, faint, piss themselves, and cry in my lap. A little fluid ? Honestly not even in the top ten.”
He stared at her, wide-eyed, still panting like his lungs had lost the script.
She offered him another towel. “Here. You can clean up with this, or I can step out if you want more privacy.”
Tyler took it in shaky hands. “I don’t even know what that was. I didn’t think I could...”
“Squirting, it can happen from paraurethral stimulation, which is what happened when I was palpating that area. It’s a physiological response, not sexual. Your body was just doing what bodies do.”
He didn’t even wiped himself, his heart was still racing.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, quieter.
Dr. Dun pulled off her gloves and tossed them. “There’s nothing to apologize for,” she looked at him with care. “Everything looks normal,” she said. “No signs of atrophy or concern. I’ll call you with your pap results in a few days. You were brave today, Tyler.”
He nodded and then stared down at his genitals, still laying with parted legs, body fluids soaked and accidental hard clit. For once, it didn’t feel like he was looking at a mess. It felt like he was looking at proof that he existed.
“I’ll step out now,” Dr. Dun said gently. “Take your time. I’ll meet you outside when you’re ready.”
As she walked toward the door, he blurted, “Thank you.”
She turned back, and for the first time, her smile reached all the way up to her eyes.
“You’re welcome,” she said. “Really.”
And then she was gone.