Chapter 1: Bound to Her Calling

Males make up around 10 percent of the nursing workforce in the UK. Nurses are typically regarded as female and males in nursing can find themselves referred to by the public and patients as ‘male nurses’ or ‘murse’ to distinguish them from other nurses. After the Second World War, large numbers of male nurses moved into the work force as they were demobilised after the war and had gained medical experience join the profession. In 1951 male nurses joined the main nursing register.

But these facts don’t explain the prejudices male nurses underwent in the late 1950’s and early 60’s. Modern history has painted nursing as a career for women, and in so doing has led to stereotypes that discriminate against male nurses which deterred males from entering nursing, and made it difficult to recruit males to help ease the nursing shortage.

In 1957 Michael Nyland was one of the few male nurses working at Chelmsford Memorial Hospital. Although he had graduated second in his class he still suffered from workplace discrimination from some of the other hospital staff, particularly the doctors and even from the female nurses. The doctors considered him a man who didn’t have the intellectual stamina to become a doctor and the some of the nurses ostracised him as a sort of freak who should have taken a real ‘man’s job’ not undertaken a profession that was really ‘women’s work’.

Michael had been employed at Chelmsford Memorial Hospital, or CMH as the staff preferred to call it, for just on three months.

But Michael did have a secret. Yes he was a man, with male sexual appetites, but he had developed a predilection for female undergarments. He fondly remembered seeing his sisters and his mother clad in petticoats, suspenders, panties, stockings and high heels as they dressed innocently before him, he being the youngest of the family.

His fetish increased and became more compelling as he grew older. He secretly stole his sisters and mother’s discarded undergarments and used them for masturbatory purposes and even began secretly wearing them under his male attire. This fascination increased during his internship as a trainee nurse where his female classmates wore these garments under their nurse’s uniforms.

In these early days of Male nursing, men shared the same changing rooms as their female counterparts; hospitals simply labelled the change rooms as ‘Doctors’ and ‘Nurses’, never really taking into account the influx of male nursing staff. As a consequence, Michael was required to use the nurses change room and couldn’t help sneaking furtive glances at the female nurses slipping into their starched white uniforms, exposing their undergarments, which usually consisted of full slips, suspenders and stockings

Although he tried to suppress his fetish, he became a ‘snowdropper’, stealing female undergarments from the laundry or from the nurses’ lockers when he thought it was safe to do so and wearing them under his uniform.

And so during his third month at CMH we find Michael standing at his locker dressed in his starched white trousers and long-sleeved smock adjusting his Nurses fob watch and then combing his hair in the mirror affixed to his locker door. CMH had placed a privacy screen separating him from the rest of the nurses in the change room; but the reality was it didn’t provide much in the way of privacy. It was one of the discarded screens they used between the beds in the public wards and as everyone knew they didn’t conceal much, so he used this as excuse to go to the toilet cubicle to change.

Michael always, changed into his uniform in the seclusion of the toilet cubicles where the doors ran from floor to ceiling providing complete privacy. He had to really, because under his uniform he was wearing a satin bodice, suspenders, panties and recently, a pair of expensive sheer stockings he had stolen from Matron Holliday’s locker.

Amanda Holliday was one of the nurses who gave him the most grief about being a man in a what she considered to be an all female profession and he had taken great delight when he had lifted the obviously expensive hosiery from her locker earlier in the day. Michael was always the first to show up for work so he could rummage around the nurses change room to see if there was anything worth snowdropping.

“Fuck me I’ve lost another pair of me best sheers!” Amanda exploded as she slammed her locker door closed.

“One of you cunts is stealing all me best knickers and stockings and it’s going to fucking stop!” she screeched to the oncoming shift of nursing staff.

Michael secretly smiled when he heard the outburst.

“Are you fucking sure that you didn’t leave then at Doctor Lovejoy’s flat last night?” Polly, a more junior nurse, sniggered loud enough for the rest of the oncoming shift to hear.

“Well fuck you love; if you had been with Doctor Lovejoy you would know that he likes to fuck his nurses with their stocking on,” the Matron retorted.

This was met by howls of laughter and giggles by the nurses, most of who had been fucked by the incredibly handsome, but hopelessly fickle Dr James Lovejoy M.D.

Dr James Lovejoy M.D. was the latest of the string of interns who passed through CMH on their way to better paying positions, seeking lucrative placements at more prestigious private hospitals, whilst fucking as many nurses as they could during their tenure at CMH.

Dr James Lovejoy M.D. liked to fuck his nurses in their uniforms. It was one of his peccadilloes, he was sometimes found coming out of a vacant private ward or even a storage closet, adjusting his flies followed by a nurse adjusting her tunic or straightening the seams of her stockings.

Michael listened to the nurse’s chatter but remained calm as he finished his prep before going on shift.

“Maybe it’s the male nurse,” Polly giggled.

“Maybe he wants to not just act like a nurse; maybe he wants to dress like one,” Polly laughed.

The whole of the oncoming shift laughed along with her and Michael blushed.

Michael carried out his usual routines as a junior nurse on staff and Amanda, being the senior nursing sister, made sure he got most of the shitty jobs. Bedpans, prescriptions and bed baths made up most of Michael’s shift, even though he had qualified as an operating theatre nurse during his training.

“Nyland, OP four, now!” Matron Amanda Holliday screeched.

Michael was extremely happy, at last he would be assisting in an operating theatre, the vocation he had trained for and was eminently suitable but had been denied due to the prejudices of the senior nursing staff.

Michael arrived at the OP and was told to prepare to assist Dr Lovejoy with a minor procedure. Amanda would be the Circulating Nurse, overseeing Polly who would be the Scrub Nurse and Michael who would be the Instrument Nurse. There would also be an anaesthetist, Dr Brian Marron, an older gentleman who was known to be short tempered and very staid in his ways.

The operation went precisely as planned until just before closing.

“Hold this clamp for me please Nurse,” Dr Lovejoy instructed Michael, sarcasm evident in the inflection of the word ‘nurse’.

Michael was extremely close to the doctor now and was very aware of their proximity. He began to sweat, not only because of the theatre lights but because he was sporting an unwelcome erection. The silky feel of his undergarments and nylon stockings against his flesh kept him in a constant state of semi-arousal and as a consequence Michael often found himself becoming fully erect at the most inopportune times.

Dr Lovejoy evidently slipped whilst making what was to be his last incision and suddenly an arterial spray of blood erupted from the patient dousing both him and Michael.

“Fuck! Fuck! Clamp! Clamp! Nurse!” Michael’s training kicked in and he quickly handed the doctor the appropriate clamp.

The wound was quickly clamped and a stitch repair effected and in a few minutes the patient was closed. Dr Lovejoy might be a skirt-chaser but he was also a very good doctor. Then Michael heard the words that would change his life forever.

“Fuck, we will still have to decontaminate you,” she instructed.

“Dr Marron, Polly, come over here away from those two.”

Michael stood there stunned. He knew this was the contemporary drill when a patient’s bodily fluids breached the integrity of the protective surgical gloves, scrubs, masks, caps, and over-boots. The drill was to try to keep all of the contaminated material in one place, remove those not contaminated, then move the contaminated people to the scrubbing area for decontamination. This situation was fast becoming Michael’s worst nightmare.

“Dr Lovejoy, Nurse Nyland, remove your outer garments, drop them on the floor and retire to the scrubbing area. I’ll bring out the patient with Polly assisting, then call in the decontamination team.”

James Lovejoy had already dropped his surgeon’s scrubs and was pulling off his trousers to reveal a pair of rather fashionable boxer shorts. He quickly removed his tie and shirt and stood in his boxers and vest.

“Come on Nurse Nyland,” Matron Holliday screamed at him.

Michael slowly removed his trousers and everyone gasped when his stocking-clad legs came into view.

Michael was glowing red with embarrassment when he took off his shirt and stood before them dressed in his satin bodice, suspenders, panties and a pair the expensive sheer stockings he had recently stolen from Matron Holliday.

“He’s a fucking noncer,” cried Dr Lovejoy.

“This is quite inappropriate,” cried Dr Marron.

“He stole me fucking best sheers,” cried Matron Holliday.

“He’s got a stiff willy,” Polly screeched pointing at the erection tenting the front of Michael’s panties.

“Oh my fucking god!” Michael screamed and ran from the operating theatre.

He stooped in the scrub room and was ripping off his lingerie when Matron Holliday appeared.

“Don’t you dare ladder my fucking stockings! Slow down and take them off slowly,” she said calmly.

“Now look here. I know you’re embarrassed but there are far worse things that have happened here a CMH, believe you me. We once caught a doctor fucking a corpse in the morgue for fuck sake.”

“But I’ll get sacked for sure,” Michael sobbed, handing Amanda her stockings.

“Sacked. You’re fucking joking! We haven’t got enough nurses as it is,” she replied.

“But, and this is a big but; your arse now belongs to me. You put one foot out of place and you will feel my wrath,” the Matron warned.

“But what about the others?” Michael cried.

“Well Dr Lovejoy loves nurses in stockings but not you I’m afraid,” she jibed.

“He does however having a raging hardon for one Matron Amanda Holliday however so he will keep shtum because I will tell him to.”

“Dr Marron hates anything controversial or likely to bring CMH into disrepute so he too will keep quiet.”

“And ditsy Polly will do whatever I tell her to do,” she concluded.

“Now get showered, put on a new uniform and for fuck sake leave the nurses knickers alone you pervert,” she scolded.

Matron stormed back into operating theatre where she gathered all the staff together.

“Ok; this is how we are going to deal with this,” she started.

The next couple of weeks for Michael were hell, waiting for his secret to be exposed. He walked around on eggshells but there were no snide remarks from the other nurses or doctors but he did get the odd poke from Dr Lovejoy and Matron Holliday.

For example a few days earlier Dr Lovejoy lifted Michaels trouser leg and commented.

“Socks today Nurse? No stockings?” he jibed.

Amanda gave him every dirty and demeaning job she could dream up and she had made him buy her a pair of expensive stockings every week.

Michael was still wearing lingerie and nylons at home but obviously refrained from wearing such attire at work.

All was well enough and Michael thought the incident might all be over with until one day Matron summoned him.

“I need you to attend to a patient in one of the private rooms, room 206.”

“Just a bandage change and bed bath,” she said dismissively.

Michael entered room 206 and was a little surprised to find the room was in darkness. He reached for the light switch and felt a little prick at the base of his neck. He’d been in nursing long enough to realise he’d just been injected with a hyperdermic but that was his last thought before he blacked out.

Michael woke up and realised several things were wrong. To start with he was bound to a hospital bed; his wrists tied very tightly behind him to the steel bed frame, he couldn’t move his hands at all. Even more disconcerting he soon realised that he was dressed in his favourite lingerie: full-slip, suspenders, stockings, panties and he could feel that his feet were in a very unfamiliar pair of shoes. When he looked down he saw that below his slim stocking-clad ankles his feet were shod in black high-heel pumps.

He was also aware that his hair felt different, it was longer and he had a fringe. Someone had put a wig on him. But more perplexingly he could taste lipstick on his lips and was aware that someone had put something on his face. He appeared to be wearing makeup. He was also aware of the very sensual aroma of perfume that surrounded him.

Still groggy he looked around the room. He was still in room 206 as best he could determine; beside the bed was a basin sitting on a stand, the kind the nurses used to shave patients prior to surgery. It was full of soapy water, hair and a razor.

A vanity screen was set up in the corner of the room and beside it was a chair over which was draped his uniform, under which were his shoes and socks.

It dawned on him. Someone had shaved him, the luxurious feel of the undergarments and stockings were accentuated because his body was freshly shaven. Someone had applied cosmetics to his face, bewigged him and dressed him as a woman. As exotic as this felt, his feelings of trepidation were not abated. Someone had done this to him and him tied to a bed.

His immediate thought was that this was going to be a very embarrassing practical joke likely organised by Dr Lovejoy or the Matron; that the entire shift of hospital staff would be invited to come and laugh at him.

“What do you think Nurse Nyland?” he heard a familiar voice.

He looked over to see Matron Holliday wheeling over a full-length mirror. She was wearing her nurse’s uniform but it wasn’t right. Her hair was coiffured differently, it was let down and brushed out, her tunic was unbuttoned to reveal what looked like a satin bustier, the hem was way to short, revealing the dark welts of her fully-fashioned stockings and she was wearing high-heels as opposed to the regulation nurses soft-soled shoes. Also her makeup was too heavy and dramatic to be acceptable for work.