Chapter 2: Education

Michele remained tied to the bed, mortified and full of trepidation whilst Dr Lovejoy dressed and left the room. Polly soon followed with the incriminating eight-millimetre film still in the camera, leaving Matron Holliday alone with Michele.

“So you see Nurse Nylons we have some very incriminating evidence in our possession. This means you now belong to us,” Matron lectured.

“You can continue to work here at CMH as Nurse Michael Nyland, you can even wear lingerie under your uniform for all we care. But when we want Nurse Michele, she better be ready.”

“But...”

“No fucking buts! I know what you want to say but I’m not interested. All you have to do is listen.”

“When you get home tonight you will find several packages have been delivered along with some written detailed instructions. Read them carefully and you better be ready to say that you agree to our ultimatum.”

“Should you elect not to continue your employment at CMH under the conditions we have set, we will send still prints from selected parts of the movie that Polly just filmed to every hospital in the country. If you try to seek employment further afield we will find out and send the stills there.”

“Additionally we will post copies to your family and sell copies of the full movie to those who deal with illicit pornography. The full movie includes footage of you before we transitioned you, so it will be quite obvious who you are”

“You may use the ensuite bathroom to clean up and change back into your male attire; you take the lingerie, wig and shoes home with you,” the Matron finished her lecture, untied Michele’s wrists and left private ward 206.

Michele lay on the bed sobbing but soon realised that would not achieve anything and the longer she remained dressed as she was, the more likely she might get caught dressed in drag.

She leapt off the bed, nearly falling over in the unfamiliar high-heels. She kicked them off and scrambled over and locked the door. She went into the ensuite and undressed then scrubbed the makeup from her face. The eyeliner was the most difficult to remove but after repeated rubbing with some moistened towellettes she managed to remove it.

She showered and scrubbed herself, paying particular attention between legs where small amounts of Dr Lovejoy’s spend still dribbled from her anus. She dried herself off and dressed as Michael.

Michael shoved the lingerie, wig, and shoes into a pillowcase, unlocked the door, checked the passageway, and then scurried back to the nurses change room. It was deserted, the shift having changed over half an hour ago. Michael changed into civvies, threw the pillowcase into his knapsack and caught the bus home, his head spinning.

‘Why were they doing this to me?’

‘Why did Dr Lovejoy treat Michele so attentively during their lovemaking but then treat her so awfully after the sex?’

‘Why did Michele feel so femme whilst she was fully dressed as a woman?’

‘And more importantly; why did she enjoy being fucked once she had learned how to accommodated Dr Lovejoy’s penis in her back passage?’

These thoughts went around and around in Michael Nyland’s consciousness as he travelled home.

Arriving home he opened the door with some trepidation and sure enough, there in the entryway was a large suitcase with a small note taped to handle. He slammed the door behind him and tore off the note dropping the pillowcase which held the wig, lingerie and stockings.

‘So easy to copy your keys. You should really lock your locker (not that that would stop us hehe).’ It was signed ‘Matron’.

“Fuck!” Michael shouted into the empty town house apartment.

Michael lugged the heavy suitcase and the pillowcase into the spare bedroom and threw them onto the bed. Although he felt totally debased after what had happened to him and peeved by the transgression into the sanctity of his residence, he had to admit that his curiosity was aroused. What was in the suitcase?

He thew the contents of the pillowcase on the bed and opened the suitcase and found it was filled to capacity with packages of various sizes. He found another note in a sealed envelope addressed to Nurse Michele Nylons. Obviously the ‘detailed instructions’ alluded to by Amanda Holliday.

He read the note:

‘Michele,

Enjoy the contents of this suitcase and practice, practice, practice, especially putting on your makeup and walking in high-heels. Obviously you need no instructions on how to wear the clothing, but someone will soon come by soon to educate you in the art of makeup and other feminine mysteries.

It’s no use trying to fight us; you know the consequences. You might even consider going to the authorities with your story but would they believe you? Think of what would happen if we divulged an edited version of Polly’s little film clip. Just try to relax and think of the pleasure rather than the pain.

I know you really want to be a nurse; a real nurse, not a male nurse. We will help you.

Whether you like it or not.

Amanda

PS: we will deduct the cost of the contents of the suitcase from your earnings’

Michael threw the note on the dresser and began to rip open the packages. There were a number of packets of expensive fully-fashioned stockings, lots of knickers - both cami-knickers and full-cut panties, a couple of brassieres, two bustieres, suspender belts and slips, two pairs of high-heels – one black, one white, and intriguingly, two nurses uniforms – one navy blue and one white. There were also two smaller cases, one full of makeup and the other full of costume jewellery.

There was another package, which contained what could only be described as a pair of plastic breast. They looked alien, a perfect set of female breast and bottle of some sort and roll of medical adhesive tape.

Michael was apprehensive and repulsed but also a very curious, and he had to admit, a little excited as he began to lay out all the items from the suitcase on the bed.

He unwrapped the fully-fashioned stockings and marvelled at the dark seams, reinforced toes and heels and the smoky welts; they felt so luxurious and he rubbed them against his face before laying them down. Similarly the knickers felts so sensuous, slippery satin and smooth nylon; lacy suspender belts, satin bustieres and smooth satin slips. The nurse’s uniforms could never be worn inside a hospital; even without trying them on it was obvious they were cut way too tight, the hems were ridiculously short and the bodices open to the decolletage.

Michael marvelled at the cosmetics case, full of lotions, powers and scents. He recognised just about all of the contents but had no real idea how to apply the makeup. He held up one of the high-heels and giggled; there was no way he would be able to walk in these.

There were three wigs, a black bob, a blonde shoulder-length job and a stylish brunette straight-combed with a fringe. They looked expensive.

There was a knock at the door and Michael awoke form his reverie.

“What the fuck now?” he said to himself, annoyed at the distraction.

Michael opened the door to find Polly standing on the doorstep. Polly was dressed very provocatively; a thigh-hugging navy-blue pencil skirt worn high on the waist with a kick-pleat in the rear, a matching jacket worn tight over a cream satin blouse open at the decolletage displaying her ample breasts, a hint of lacy black brassier visible. Her feet were shod in black patent leather high-heel pumps and her legs encased in shimmering flesh-toned hosiery; gold jewellery accessorised the outfit. Her black hair was worn in a bouffant style made popular by several movie actresses.

Her makeup was heavy; her pretty face accentuated by powder and rouge, her lipstick bright red, her eyes enhanced by black eyeliner, mascara and smoky eyeshadow.

She looked very sexy; the antithesis as to how she presented herself at work.

Michael was surprised by Polly’s unannounced appearance at his door and stood transfixed in the doorway.

“Get out the way you dozy bint and let me in,” Polly brushed past Michael and strutted into the hallway.

“Ok. You’ve got the notes from Amanda and obviously you’ve unpacked the suitcase,” Polly gestured with her chin towards the bedroom where the contents of the suitcase spread on the bed could be seen through the open door.

Michael closed the front door and turned to face Polly.

“What the fuck do you want Polly?”

“As per Amanda’s note I’m here to instruct you. To teach you have to use the makeup and how to transform yourself from Michael into Michele,” she stated, opening her purse and extracting a gold cigarette case.

“What if I just tell to fuck off?” Michael responded angrily.

Polly mooched in her purse again and extracted an envelope, which she waved in the air as she strutted into the small living room. She threw the envelope on the coffee table and lit her cigarette.

“I’ll help myself to a drink while you look at those shall I?” she pointed at the envelope.

Michael followed her into lounge and snatched up the envelope.

“Help yourself,” he said sarcastically to Polly, who having examined the contents of Michael’s modest bar, poured herself a gin and tonic.

“Thanks. Ice is in the fridge I take it? I’ll pour you one too, you might need it,” she called from the cosy kitchen-diner, dropping ice into the drinks.

Michael opened the envelope and was appalled. There were a series of still photographs lifted from the eight-millimetre film and they were downright pornographic. Dr Lovejoy and Matron Holliday’s faces had been expertly blurred and as Michael had been transformed into Michele in the photographs it was unlikely that anyone who knew him casually would recognise him dressed in drag. But anyone who knew him well enough would recognise him if they were informed that it was he in the pictures.

The series of shots depicted Michele in very compromising situations with Amanda Holliday but the most damning were the shots of Michele being fucked by James Lovejoy. Her face was a portrait of absolute delight as she lay underneath him, her legs wrapped around the man fucking her, and the stills taken where she was returning his kisses were equally damning.

“You didn’t know I was an amateur film maker and photographer did you? Pretty good stuff if I do say so myself,” Polly commented, seating herself on the lounge, her skirt riding up her thighs.

“So, I’m not going to waste my time reiterating Matron’s proposition. I need an answer yes or no,” she sipped her drink.

“I have no choice do I? I have to submit but I still don’t see what this is all about; your insistence on transforming me into a transvestite nurse? Surely this isn’t just so you can prostitute me out to Dr Lovejoy!” Michael growled.

“Look, all will be revealed by Amanda when it suits her. For now I’m here to teach you how to transform from your male persona into sexy nurse Michele,” Polly sipped her drink again and pointed to the spare bedroom where the contents of the suitcase were laid out on the bed.

“Ok, go and shave your face as close as you can then grab your drink and follow me. Let’s make this as pleasant as possible; I hold no malice against you dear, I’ve always thought that you are quite a handsome man; but you are an absolutely stunning woman,” Polly smiled and then winked mischievously at him.

“And when you come back, make sure you are naked so I have a blank canvass to start with.”

Michael couldn’t help but being flattered by Polly’s comments but he was still angry that he was being manipulated this way. After shaving his face as smooth as he could he returned to bedroom, drink in hand, Polly had already poured herself another.

“Ok you must keep all of your body and legs shaved, just like we did to you in the ward and always shave your face before you put on your makeup,” Polly commenced her instruction.

“Ok lets lay out the makeup on the dresser and you take a seat right here,” she indicated a high-back chair in front of the dresser mirror.

With the makeup laid out Polly began the first lesson.

“Now pay attention sweetie, you need to learn how to do this,” she said.

Polly took a damp sponge and applied generous amounts of foundation to Michele’s face then she picked up a brush and applied a finishing powder. She rouged Michele’s cheeks, accenting her high feminine cheekbones. She fussed around Michele’s eyes applying liberal amounts of eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara. She finished with another light dusting of powder and plum red lipstick to Michele’s lips.

Polly explained to Michele each step of the ritual. The final touch was the application of bright red nail polish to Michele’s toenails and fingernails and a liberal spray of perfume.

Polly selected the black bob from the three wigs, she turned Michele towards the mirror, fitted the wig, combed it and made some adjustments. Michele was shocked as she looked at herself in the mirror; she looked stunning.

“You like that don’t you?” Polly smirked.

“My god! I do look just like a woman!” Michele marvelled at her reflection.

“Ok take off the wig and remove the makeup and you do it,” Polly instructed.

Michele used the moisturiser and facecloth and removed the makeup.

Polly made Michele apply her makeup five times until she was happy.

“You’re no expert but you get the gist; you will get better with practise,” she finished her second G and T and went into the lounge to pour another.

Polly selected a pair of black nylon full-cut panties from the midden of lingerie on the bed. She held them open so Michele could step into them and adjusted the waistband on Michele’s hips then Polly chose a black satin garter belt and clipped the garment together and Michele stepped into it and adjusted it so the garter straps were in position. The she helped Michele put on a pair of the fully-fashioned stockings and clipped the garters to the welts of the stockings. She straightened the seams.