BEING  "PASSED  FIT"


I am a 53-year-old British woman. A few months ago, I applied for part-
time employment in the sorting and dispatching section of a large
private courier-and-shipping firm in the U.K. (My main work is
freelance, from home, and earnings from it can be very variable, and
have not been so good lately.) To my surprise and slight
consternation, I received a letter from the company summoning me to
their headquarters in the city near which I live, for a medical
examination.

I duly showed up, the appointed day and time, and was taken to the
building's "in-house" health suite, which included a well-equipped
surgery. My exam was conducted by the company nurse based in these
premises. She identified herself as Isabel: was perhaps ten years
younger than me, very pleasant in manner, very talkative, but brisk
with it; and it turned out that she "gave no quarter". She started by
taking a medical history from me; medium-detailed, but asking the
really embarrassing stuff; then led me through into the examining room
proper; after doing "height and weight", and testing my sight and
hearing, and mouth, using the standard tongue-depressor, she asked me
to undress except for my underpants.

My sexual orientation is "straight" - however, the same mixture of
feelings is brought about in me, by being examined "in depth" by a
healthcare provider of either sex. I don't actually like it, any more
than most people do, when I have to shed my clothes and reveal my
intimate "bits" to have things done to them: it's highly embarrassing,
but at the same time exciting, for me not  totally in a bad way. I
admit to finding something of a sexual turn-on element in such
experiences, particularly in retrospect.

 Isabel proceeded to administer a thorough examination to me, the
greatest highlights of which, I'll go on to relate. First thing after
I was stripped to my knickers, she handed me a cup and directed me to
a lavatory directly adjoining the room, to do a urine sample. She
closely examined my breasts by eye and by hand, with me standing up
with my hands clasped together over my head. With the job involving a
certain amount of lifting and bending, a good deal of attention to my
general gait and posture, and to my back, was found necessary. She got
me to stand upright, and to walk to and fro, under her intent gaze, to
check the former things; then for the latter, she had me bend over,
doing my best to touch my toes, while she minutely felt the length of
my spine. After doing that, she pulled my pants a little way down, ran
a hand over each buttock, and then pulled them up again - then got me
to do a bit more standing-up and bending-down, afresh.

She checked my reflexes, after which came the grand finale. She told
me to take my pants off, and with me completely naked thenceforth, she
did the "cough" routine (sometimes seen as needful for women too), her
fingers in my groin - then up on the couch for examination of outer
genitals, and then a pelvic, including the bimanual bit. Last but
certainly not least: off the couch, and instructed to bend over it,
legs apart, for her to do the finger-up-bottom ceremony. Concerning
rectal exams, my sentiments are especially mixed: I find the procedure
humiliating (and uncomfortable), but at the same time, so mind-
bendingly "forget-all-modesty" for there to be something arousing
about the situation; plus, the bizarre feeling that you're passing a
bowel movement, though you know that really you're not.

After which Isabel told me to get dressed, and following a few
minutes' conversation about issues associated with the exam, and good
wishes from her (she was, despite everything, very nice), we were
done. The whole thing must have lasted a little less than an hour from
start to finish (as said above, I've recounted only the most momentous
parts). I left the health suite and the building, a tiny bit sore
"down below", and predominantly glad that the business was done with,
but with a little of me wishing that it were only just beginning over
again.

I got the job, which has turned out fine (I can't help sometimes
looking at my colleagues and thinking of them undergoing their turn of
being indecently exposed to receive Isabel's ministrations). And,
well; despite my age, there's nothing wrong with my libido (and no
H.R.T. either - I've just been lucky to date); and the evening of my
medical, my partner didn't know what had hit him.