(Warning: not for those of you who are squeamish)
So, there’s this cute guy who plays pool in my local; I sometimes play with him (pool that is). He’s a bit of a ‘Jack the lad’, and I can’t help but fancy him; he fancies me too, I can tell by the way he flirts and watches me bending over to take my shots.
Now, I try not to fuck anyone other than my sugar daddies, but that’s easier said than done…. especially when I’m drunk and horny (basically anytime I’m drunk). You can see where this is going….
One night I give in to temptation and take him back to mine. I don’t ‘need’ sex, I’m getting plenty of it, I just really want it. The sex is great; hard and fast, two young people who want to fuck each other’s brains out, doing just that.
He wore a condom, but it doesn’t survive our vigorous fucking, and after coming inside me, he withdraws without it. I rescue it from my sticky vagina, I know I’m not pregnant, so forget about it; until a few weeks later when I get the dreaded text stating that one of my sexual partners has tested positive for Chlamydia.
Now, given my numerous sexual experiences, and total lack of self-control, I’ve had Chlamydia before, but don’t have time to fuck about getting tested. Time is money, and I need to be able to work, so I order the appropriate antibiotics and check my spreadsheet to see who I need to contact (yes, I have a spreadsheet). Two of my sugar daddies who don’t wear protection get unlucky, but thankfully, and much to my relief, no one else is affected. I vow to be more careful in future; and think no more of it.
Fast forward a month and I’m messaged by a married man who’s coming down for business and wants a one-off thing. He’s not had sex with anyone but his wife for 19 years; and can’t use condoms, something I hear a lot… they don’t work for him, it’s not the same, blah blah blah, usual excuses. I explain that I have a coil fitted, but prefer using protection to ensure we’re both safe. He assures me that he’s ‘clean’ but wants to know if I’ve had any issues, and how many men I fuck without protection etc; suddenly concerned about infecting his wife, what a considerate husband, good job I brought it up….
I recall my recent experience of Chlamydia, and realize that I never tested after treating myself, just to check the antibiotics worked; I feel healthy, but can’t be 100% sure. I obviously don’t want to put him or his marriage at risk, so buy a test kit, and tell him that I’ll test before we meet.
If you’ve ever tested yourself, you know it’s fairly simple. You have a long cotton wool bud that you insert into your vagina, twist around, pull out, stir in a solution, and pour a few drops over what looks like a covid test strip. Idiot proof, what could possibly go wrong…. I check the instructions, annoyingly you have to wait at least an hour after weeing before testing, and I really need a wee now. I can’t be arsed to come back later though, so ignore my full bladder, and go for it; it’ll only take a minute.
I squat, spread my pussy lips and insert the cotton bud. It feels really uncomfortable going in; maybe my vagina’s a bit dry, or tense because I’m desperate for a wee. Either way, I persevere, pushing it up as far as I can, ignoring the increasingly unpleasant feeling. I twist it around and try to pull it out; it doesn’t want to move though, and the more I pull, the more it hurts. I feel wetness as urine trickles along the plastic stick and onto the floor; I really need to get this thing out before I wee all over it, if I get it wet it won’t work. I stand over the toilet, frantically trying to pull it out whilst trying not to wee everywhere, but it’s not working; it’s really hurting. My legs are shaking and I’m starting to panic; I can feel beads of sweat forming on the back of my neck. By this point I don’t even care whether the test will work, I just want the bloody thing out.
Eventually I can’t hold on any longer and have no choice but to wee. I hold the end of the swab whilst doing so, as even the slightest movement hurts. A tidal wave of wee gushes over my hand as I let go; it hurts and it’s uncomfortable, but at least I don’t feel like my bladder is about to explode anymore. I’ve totally fucked up the test now, but I don’t care. I try again to pull the wretched thing out, but my vagina seems to be clamped around it. The pain is almost unbearable, and liquid is still trickling down the plastic stick and into the toilet…. It’s a strange sensation, like I want to come and squirt everywhere. Every time I move the stick, my pussy spasms and a fresh wave of liquid escapes, causing a weird feeling of pleasure and pain.
I’m stuck and I don’t know what to do. I’m hot, sweaty, crying and leaking; stood over the toilet, too scared to move, feeling like my legs could give way at any moment. It’s at this point that I suddenly remember my contraceptive coil; maybe the cotton bud is twisted around the threads of my coil, or I’ve dislodged it and perforated my insides. I try to twist the swab in the opposite direction, thinking that maybe I can untangle it; but I can’t twist it at all, it’s stuck and won’t budge, any attempt just results in more pain; I’m basically fucked!
For a moment I seriously consider whether I can wrap a towel around my waist and walk to the hospital, though quickly realize that’s impossible. I have no other choice, for the first time in my life, I dial 999. I’m panicking, but hold it together whilst I explain to the operator what’s happened. She takes my details and explains that the ambulance service is under a great deal of pressure; it could be several hours before they get to me. She asks if someone could drive me to the hospital. I look down between my legs… I can hardly move, I’m leaking everywhere, and have 10cms of plastic stick poking out of my vag, I’m like a fucking human lollipop, I don’t think she understands my predicament; but having no choice, I tell her I’ll try, and hang up. I take a couple of steps, legs spread, hands grasping my stick, piss trickling down my legs; it’s no good, I don’t think I can make it down the stairs, let alone to the hospital. Nope, I’m going to have to deal with this myself. With great effort I get on my knees, and lean forward against the bath. I Google how to remove a coil at home, because it’s clearly twisted around the swab, and I’m not going to get the swab out without also removing my coil. The results are encouraging, it’s not impossible to do; yes, you may do some serious damage, but what choice do I have. If I remove it and start bleeding everywhere, at least I might be able to close my legs and make it to the hospital; I have to do something. Feeling between my legs, I find the opening to my vagina; it’s closed tight, poor thing. I prize it open, careful not to disturb the swab; inside I can feel the walls of my vagina, but not the swab…. what the fuck!! I put my phone on selfie mode and slide it between my legs, trying to make sense of what’s going on. Droplets of wee cover the screen, but I can just make out my vagina, and the swab sticking out… the swab is not in my vagina though. I Google the female anatomy, not quite believing what I’ve done; I’ve inserted the swab into my urethra.
I’m both horrified and relieved. On one hand, it’s obviously not caught on my coil, pulling it out might hurt like a bitch, but it’s not going to rip out my coil and my uterus with it. On the other hand, what the fuck! How did I manage to push a swab all the way up there, I didn’t even realize that was possible…though obviously it is.
Now I’m confident I’m not going to kill myself; I try to relax and pull it out. It really hurts, but thankfully I eventually manage it. The tip is covered in blood, have I impaled myself or damaged my bladder? I try to Google what happens when you accidentally shove a fat cotton bud up your pee hole; Google is less helpful this time.
I’m relieved that it’s out, but still experiencing pain. I feel the urge to wee, but nothing happens, and when it does, it burns to the point that tears roll down my face and I cry out in pain.
I climb into the shower, thinking that the warm water may help ease the pain; I pee again, it still burns, but the water helps. I lie in the bath, the warm water running over my belly and between my legs. Exhausted after such an ordeal, I consider whether I could sleep in the bath, with the shower running, but decide against it; I need to get myself checked out.
I dress, and walk in the rain to the hospital. I can’t find my shoes so I’m wearing my gardening Crocs, I don’t care though; I just want tonight to be over.
Thankfully A&E is quiet, so I’m not waiting long. I explain, for the second time that night, what’s happened; the nurse is sympathetic, and somehow manages to keep a straight face. My observations are normal, and she doesn’t seem too concerned, which is reassuring. It’s gone 10pm so there aren’t any doctors on duty, so very little she can do. She tells me that my urethra is experiencing trauma, which will ease in time; yeah…it’s not the only one. I tell the nurse how silly I feel, that I can’t believe I managed to do something so stupid. She assures me that it happens to us all, something I very much doubt. She tells me to go home and rest, the doctor will give me a call in the morning.
Lying in bed that night, I wonder how many women have had a similar experience… I know men love shoving stuff down their pee hole, but I’ve never heard of a woman doing so. Has anyone else reading this accidentally mistaken their pee hole for their vagina? I would really like to know if you have, because I’m still traumatised.
I never did meet up with the guy I took the test for. I did however buy and successfully do another test which came back clear. I do them on a regular basis now, but am very careful about inserting into the correct hole.
Emily-Rose xxx
Sugar and Spice 