Medical Examination Under the Hot Sun of Ascana
Copyright© 2026 by Asmodeus_de_Valle
Chapter 2: In the Dressing Room
Young Adult Sex Story: Chapter 2: In the Dressing Room - High school graduates are rehearsing their play, but they are unexpectedly interrupted by a delegation of doctors who have arrived to conduct a medical examination.
Caution: This Young Adult Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Ma/Ma Reluctant Gay Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Rough Orgy Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Double Penetration Fisting Oral Sex Pegging Sex Toys Doctor/Nurse Public Sex
Part 2.1
Behind the scenes, it was cool, with that typical chill found inside old brick buildings. The hallway was cluttered with props from previous years: wooden bushes painted green, cardboard swords, and various other stage paraphernalia. We walked down the corridor to the room that served as a dressing room.
This room had two entrances — an inner one, through which we entered, and an outer one, opening into the club’s main hallway. It was divided into two unequal parts by a thin wooden partition, behind which the actors were supposed to change. In one corner of the room stood a tubular clothes rack holding the costumes prepared for the show.
Releasing the guy’s hand, Yulia walked with a firm step toward the costumes and pulled down the dress intended for Khrystyna from the rail.
“What are you standing there for?” she turned and addressed Sasha. “Let go of your bag already, we’re not gonna steal it. Come on, strip.”
The guy sighed heavily, dropped his bag onto an armchair, and headed behind the partition.
“Where are you going?” Yulia called after him.
“Behind the screen,” Sasha stopped and answered.
“What for? You won’t be able to put this costume on by yourself anyway. Undress here.”
The guy and I exchanged bewildered looks.
“What are you staring at?” Yulia asked.
“I’m supposed to strip in front of you?”
The blonde let out a showy sigh.
“Yes,” she replied bluntly.
I looked back and forth between her and Sasha. The guy flushed beet red and stood stock-still.
“Why are we waiting? Or do you want Tanya to help you?”
“No, no,” Oleks immediately replied.
He grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt and, after a few seconds of hesitation, pulled it off. Beneath it was a slightly rounded tummy paired with a clearly defined waist. The guy’s chest wasn’t flat — two small, rounded mounds hovered just above his waist. The soft, fluid lines of his silhouette didn’t suit a guy at all, and without his usual baggy clothes, Sasha looked fragile and defenseless. His narrow shoulders instantly hunched as he tossed the shirt onto the chair and hurriedly covered himself with his arms.
Looking at the guy’s crimson face, I felt myself blush too.
“I’ll step out for a bit,” I mumbled, starting to turn around.
“Where to?” Yulia stopped me on the spot. “Am I supposed to deal with him all by myself? Stay here.”
I froze, but kept my eyes fixed on the girl, who was already addressing Sasha again.
“Why are you frozen again? Need us to insert a new battery, or do you want us to wind up your key? Take those pants off already, move it.”
Seeing the guy’s reluctance, Yulia handed me the dress and stepped closer to him. Staring at the wall, I heard rustling beside me.
“And why did you freeze?” I heard a minute later. “Need a battery swap too? Come here.”
Turning back, I saw that the guy was already out of his pants. He stood in nothing but his boxers, his head tucked into his shoulders even deeper, hands nervously pressed against his sides as if he were freezing. Without pants, his figure looked even more feminine: pale, slender legs added nothing to his masculinity, and wide, soft hips clearly stood out against his narrow waist, flowing smoothly into that same neat, rounded belly.
Involuntarily, my eyes drifted to his crotch. I’m no expert in these “matters,” but I was pretty sure men are supposed to have a bit of a bulge there. Sasha’s boxers, however, just hung loose in that area. Catching the direction of my gaze, Oleks quickly covered his crotch with his hand. Turning my eyes away, I walked over to my classmates.
“Tell me, mister shy guy, how are we supposed to put a dress on you? You’ve got nothing to hide anyway. Raise your arms,” Yulia ordered him.
Sasha closed his eyes and slowly raised his arms. It looked as if Yulia and I were standing there with assault rifles instead of a dress. His entire pale torso, with its soft chest mounds and soft tummy, was completely exposed, his body trembling slightly.
The two of us started putting the dress on the young man. It was quite heavy, and it was awkward for me to lift it over someone taller than myself, but somehow Yulia and I managed. The velvet fabric, accompanied by the loud rustle of tulle petticoats, slid down his raised arms to his belly. Moving his limbs a bit, Sasha found the sleeves and pushed his hands through, after which the dress slowly slid lower.
When he finally popped his head through the neckline and lowered his arms, we stepped back to evaluate the look. Since no one had laced up the corset in the back yet, the bodice immediately slid down to his elbows under its own weight, exposing his thin, tense shoulders and sharp collarbones. Because Khrystyna was slightly taller than the guy, the hem of the dress dragged on the floor, meaning we’d have to pull up the inner drawstrings and probably roll up the sleeves.
After a quick assessment of his appearance, Yulia stepped behind him to tighten the corset. She quickly found the necessary laces and yanked them sharply. I stepped in to hold up the bodice so it would sit right over his shoulders. Meanwhile, Sasha stood like a wooden mannequin, his only movement being closing his eyes again as I stepped right up close to him.
The dress gradually tightened. Releasing the bodice, I gripped the corset frame itself to adjust its position on his body. Yulia kept pulling the laces tight, and after a moment, the rigid structure pressed firmly against the guy’s chest.
“Finally,” the girl muttered. “Now exhale,” she added louder.
“You’re killing me...” the guy whined in response.
When Yulia pulled the laces back with all her strength, Sasha let out a quiet gasp from the sudden pressure. The bones of the built-in corset closed tightly around his waist with a dull rustle of velvet, bringing the fabric edges at his back almost flush together. The rigid frame wrapped snugly around his body, securing itself around his chest.
“Used up the whole ribbon,” she declared, tying off the cord.
Finishing up, Yulia gave the guy a satisfied slap on his shoulder blades, making him flinch again. “Fits like a glove. You can let go, Tanya, this thing isn’t going anywhere now.”
I released the corset and stepped back a meter. Yulia joined me, and we took a look at him. The dress fit surprisingly well, and now Shura didn’t look like a guy at all — the rigid structure of the corset created a distinct bustline, making it hard to recognize a young man in his smooth, rounded face.
“Fix the hem,” the blonde commanded me, “and I’ll adjust the sleeves.”
I walked over to Sasha, leaned down, and crawled under the skirt. Beneath it, I saw his bare feet, awkwardly and helplessly pressed together. Against the lush green velvet and the stiff white mesh of the petticoats, his pale, thin calves looked tiny, like those of a teenager.
I reached out and began feeling around through the countless layers of tulle, searching for the satin ribbons.
“Oh,” Sasha whispered softly from above, flinching noticeably backward when my fingers accidentally brushed his ankle.
Finding the right ribbons, I pulled them up, lifting the hem of the dress. A minute later, I tied the ribbons and emerged from under the fabric. By this time, Yulia had already finished with the sleeves. Looking the guy over, we both came to the conclusion that the dress fit perfectly.
“And now,” the girl said in a satisfied tone, “let’s apply some makeup.”
“What for?” Sasha and I mumbled almost in unison.
“We need to,” Yulia replied. “We have to see how our young princess is going to look on stage.”
“Why?” I asked again. “Makeup isn’t like a dress, it’s not going to not fit. We can easily figure that out later...”
While I spoke, the girl silently drilled me with her gaze. Under the pressure of her eyes, my voice trailed off until I went completely quiet.
“Does anyone else have objections?”
Yulia threw a dominant look at Sanya, and he shook his head no.
“Good. Alright, Sanya, you just stand still again. You’re driving me crazy, and I’ll actually shove a battery into you. If you want to sweep the floor, there’s a broom and a mop — don’t do it with your socks. Put your shoes on.”
Stepping aside, the guy covered his shoes with the hem of the dress. After fumbling around for a minute, he managed to blindly shove his feet into them, then sat down in the chair where his pants were hanging over the back. Doing that in a dress with a wide skirt was no easy task. Yulia walked over to the shelves and grabbed a makeup kit.
“Come on, Tanya, help me,” she said to me.
I stepped closer, looking into the open makeup bag. It contained Khrystyna’s usual chaos: dozens of brushes, various tubes, shadow palettes, and heavy round jars. With a practiced motion, Yulia pulled out a bottle of liquid foundation and a sponge.
“Hold this, pass me whatever I need,” she handed me the bag. “Alright, Sanya, tilt your head back a bit and close your eyes, because I’m about to turn your pale mug into something presentable.”
The guy, who was still sitting in the chair looking locked in a vise by his own outfit, pressed his elbows to his sides, hiding his hands in the folds of the heavy velvet. Hearing Yulia’s command, he obediently but very slowly tilted his head back against the chair’s headrest. The corset creaked under the strain, pushing the rigid cups of the bodice slightly higher, forcing Sanya to take another frantic breath. His face still retained a faint pink blush, and his lips were tightly pressed together.
“Tanya, squeeze some foundation onto my hand,” Yulia commanded.
I took the bottle and pressed the pump, dispensing a bit of cream onto her outstretched palm. The blonde then began dabbing it onto his forehead and cheeks with quick, precise movements.
“Don’t squirm,” Yulia grumbled, blending the foundation near his ears.
The guy just let out a muffled grunt in response, keeping his lips sealed.
The cream quickly hid minor teenage blemishes, making his skin smooth and porcelain-like, just like a girl’s. Against the dark green velvet, his features looked even softer.
“Alright, done with the tone. Give me the powder, gotta get rid of this shine.” Fully absorbed in the process, Yulia held out her hand without even looking at me.
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