Chapter 3: Assistance and Corruption

Michele and Polly made love three times in total that night including a long session of oral sex. They both stripped down to their lingerie and fell asleep in each other’s arms. The stimulating feel of satin and nylon rubbing against each other woke them both during the early morning; Michele had a huge erection tenting her satin panties and Polly eased the member from its tight prison and guided it into her warm, wet vagina.

They thrust against each other, kissing and caressing until they both orgasmed and once again dozed off to sleep.

When Michele awoke late the next day her bed was empty. She glanced at the bedside alarm clock and saw it was quarter to eleven; late for someone who was an early-riser, even though it was Saturday and she didn’t have to work. She got out of bed and searched her small town house and found it deserted. An envelope rested against a lamp on the hallway telephone table; she tore it open.

‘Thanks for last night; it was wonderful. Don’t forget to practice your makeup and walking skills ha-ha, but seriously Michele, be careful, and don’t fuck with Matron; she has powerful friends and will not hesitate to out you if you don’t comply.

I have to work today but I’ll call you soon.

Be careful.’

The note was hand-written and instead of signing it Polly had left a red-lipstick kiss. It smelled vaguely of her perfume. Michele was still speculating about the contents of the note when the telephone rang. Michele jumped with surprise then picked up the receiver. Having a telephone was a bit of luxury for someone on her wage but the hospital subsidised the line rental so that her work could contact her. None of her relatives owned a phone and it was unlikely they would call late on Saturday morning from a call box.

“Be ready at one PM. Wear the white uniform,” it was Matron.

“But...” Michele stammered.

“One PM!” the line clicked, Matron had hung up.

Michele was dumbfounded and a little scared. She looked in the hallstand mirror and thought that in the light of day she looked ridiculous. Her wig was askew and her heavy makeup was smeared over her face, a combination of lovemaking and sleep had seen to that. She rubbed her face and felt the beginnings of stubble.

Her brassiere looked a little forlorn and saggy, the cups void of the breastforms, which she had removed before getting into bed. Her stockings were laddered and a couple of garters had come loose and hung forlornly at her thighs; the front of her knickers was stuck to her penis; glued there by dried semen. She felt like crying and probably would have but the phone rang again.

“It’s Polly. I know that Matron just called so just do what she said Michele, don’t fuck with her.”

And once again the line went dead before Michele could speak.

“Fuck!” Michele screamed into the empty house.

Resolve set, Michele commenced cleaning up her little flat. She gathered the notes that Polly and Matron had left, along with the incriminating pictures and put them in the telephone table drawer, she made her bed and cleaned up empty glasses and emptied ashtrays. She gathered her uniform, breastforms and heels from the main bedroom and took them into the spare bedroom. She spent some time packing away and hanging up the clothes, shoes and other accoutrements that she had laid out on the bed yesterday.

By the time she had finished it was nearly noon. She did all this whilst still dressed in her wrinkled lingerie and when she had finished she shucked out of her underwear and threw it in the washing basket. She was going to throw away the stockings but her fetish would not allow such waste and she tossed them on the bedside table. She brushed out the black bob until the hair gleamed and it had regained its shape and style and put it with the other wigs.

She stood naked at the bathroom mirror and saw a skinny man with beginnings of five o’clock shadow wearing a ridiculous amount of besmeared makeup. She couldn’t help but laugh.

She used the toilet, shaved and climbed into the cramped shower over-bath arrangement. Sitting on the little shelf beside the soap and shampoo was a douche. Being a nurse Michele knew exactly what it was and what it was used for. She didn’t know what was going to happen at 1 PM but she suspected that it might involve Dr Lovejoy and or Matron Holliday wanting sex. Although this held no appeal for her she did not want the indignity of an ‘accident’ occurring if she was forced to engage in anal intercourse.

She filled the douche with warm soapy water and used it while the shower ran over her body. Once that unpleasantness had been seen to she took her time taking a long hot shower.

“Ok Michele; lets get you ready and find out what the fuck Matron has in store shall we?” Michele was determined she wouldn’t beak down like she had when Matron called.

She padded naked into the spare bedroom and sat at the dresser. Michele was a quick study and confidently began to apply makeup for only the second day or her life. She took a damp sponge and applied generous amounts of foundation to her face and applied the finishing powder. She rouged her cheeks, carefully applied eyeliner, brushed on eyeshadow and layed liberal amounts of mascara on her lashes. She smacked her lips as she had been taught to set the plum red lipstick.

“Not bad,” she appraised herself as she adjusted a brunette wig on her head.

She brushed it out; the hair fell to her shoulders and she had to admit it felt quite pleasant against her bare skin. Her face looked quite different than it had when she had worn the black bob. She was still amazed at how attractive she looked when she was madeup and bewigged. She opened a draw and rummaged around in the lingerie; Michele was no expert on women’s fashion but she had been wearing lingerie long enough to know how to coordinate her wardrobe.

She stepped into a white lace suspender belt and slid on a pair of white stockings and clipped the claps to the welts. The feel of the cool gossamer on her legs excited her a little; she extended each leg and smoothed out her stockings and straightened the seams; her red painted toe-nails looked quite appealing through the gauzy reinforced toes.

Next she slipped into a pair of white nylon full-cut panties; they tingled as they rasped against her nylon stockings when she pulled them up her shapely legs. She pulled them tight around her buttocks and slipped her semi-erect penis under herself so that the panty gusset held it in place.

Michael had often worn shifts, petticoats and slips when he had partially crossdressed and Michele took the opportunity to select a white satin full-slip from the wardrobe; she rubbed the slinky fabric against her face and inhaled the scent of the brand new garment.

The next fifteen minutes were spent trying to affix the breastforms using a combination of surgical tape and cosmetic glue. After a number of appalling attempts which actually made her giggle, she finally got them attached to her satisfaction and quickly snapped on a white lace brassiere to keep them in place. She stepped into the full-slip and adjusted the straps on her shoulders. She could feel herself getting wet in the crotch; her penis was secreting pre-seminal fluids.

“Naughty girl!” she chided herself and giggled.

The white nurse uniform was tight in the bodice, short in the hem and open at the decolletage; she thought it was something that might be worn by Barbara Windsor in a ‘Carry On’ movie. She slipped her feet into a pair of white high-heels and looked at herself in the full-length mirror and gasped.

Being dressed all in white, uniform, stockings and shoes, she should have looked virginal but in fact she looked the antithesis of virginal.

She looked so sexy!

“I’d fuck you in a heartbeat Michele,” she cooed.

She had just enough time to accessorise with jewellery and liberally spray herself with perfume when the mantle clock struck one.

Right on cue there was a knock at the door.

Michele opened the door and was surprised to find Dr Brian Marron, the anaesthetist, was standing there impatiently looking at his watch.

“Out of the way you silly girl,” he ordered and barged into the hallway.

“And shut the fucking door; who knows who can see you!”

Michele was stunned; Dr Marron was the last person she expected to see. He was known to be a prude and very conservative, she had no idea why he would be here.

She soon found out.

With no preamble whatsoever he pushed Michele against the wall and pawed at her whilst slavering at her face, his hand was under her dress groping her stocking-tops and panties; his lips pressed against hers as he tried to force his tongue in her mouth.

Michele struggled and nearly fell over as her high-heels skittered on the polished floor. She wriggled and tried to extricate herself from his grip but Brian Marron was surprisingly strong for a man in his sixties. He was powerfully built and Michele was very slight.

He grabbed Michele by the arm and began to drag her into the lounge room.

“Come on you dozy bint, I don’t have long and I’ve paid good money for this,” he huffed, dragging her over to the couch.

He fell on her and began to paw at her again.

And so it dawned on Michele what Polly was alluding to and what Matron Holliday had not yet told her. Michele was being prostituted out! She couldn’t do much about it now; Matron had all she needed to blackmail Michele into capitulation.

Michele decided that it was best just to comply for now. She’d let Dr Marron take his pleasure and after he had left she would have time to think.

She stopped fighting and allowed Brian Marron to kiss and fondle her. She didn’t fight but she didn’t encourage him either. His tongue was inside her mouth, his lips crushing hers whilst his hands roamed her body exploring her thighs and buttocks, squeezing and stroking her through her diaphanous nylons and silky panties. He found her satin slip quite to his liking and stroked the cool soft fabric, rubbing it against her freshly shaved body.

Dr Marron extricated himself from their embrace and stood before her as she sat demurely on the couch, adjusting the hem of her uniform and straightening the bodice. Surely he hadn’t come already? No such luck Michele realised as he stood before her ripping off his suit coat and tie. He was gasping with exertion and excitement.

“Take off my trousers nurse!” he barked.

Michele’s face was level with Dr Marron’s crotch and she reached out and undid his belt. She noticed her manicured and painted nails as she eased the zip of his fly down and snapped the button at the top of his trousers. As she eased the trousers down his legs she could smell body-wash and powder; at least Dr Marron was clean.

“Stand!” Dr Marron ordered.

Michele stood, tottering on her heels trying to recover her breath. Dr Marron grabbed her and forced himself against her; pushing his tongue deep into her mouth and pushing his hips against her.

She felt Dr Marron reach between their bodies and knew what he was going to do; she felt abhorrent. He was freeing his penis from his underwear. Michele was still determined to get this over with as soon as possible and seized the initiative. As soon as she felt Dr Marron’s erect member against her she reached down and gently held it. She had never held another man’s penis before and it felt tactile and spongy, she could feel the thick veins running along it. It also felt slick and warm. Michele commenced a slow stroking motion, easing her hand along the shaft and circling the enormous glans. His cock was thick, hard and throbbing with excitement.

“Yes that’s very good nurse,” Dr Marron groaned.

He pushed her back slightly so he could see her painted nails trailing along his shaft as she masturbated him. A thin thread of shimmering clear pre-seminal fluid ran from the purple head of his penis across to her gauzy nyloned thigh. Dr Marron reached out, rucked up her dress, and rubbed the darker welts of her white stockings and then worked his way up to her panties. Michele stiffened as she felt his hand go inside her panties and begin to fumble about. She forced herself to relax, Dr Marron had proved he was stronger than she, and she knew he was easily angered. Dr Marron eventually found her thin soft cock nestled in the crotch of the sheer nylon panties and he began to free it from its little silken prison.

Michele concentrated on slowly masturbating Dr Marron; she gripped his member tightly and slowly squeezed and stroked it as she worked her hand up and down his penis. Brian Marron relaxed and stared at her hand stroking his phallus while he stroked her body through the satin slip, working his hands over her nyloned thighs and pantied crotch. He began to squeeze Michele’s soft penis harder and harder but she concentrated on getting this over with, as soon as possible; to her the feel of Brian’s hand was vile.

Michele concentrated on trying to illicit Dr Marron’s orgasm as soon as possible and she pushed herself against him stroking his member with firmer faster strokes. She lifted her head and kissed him, gently sliding her tongue across his lips and exploring his mouth. She trapped his member between her lustrous slip her stockinged thigh and rubbed it there, the underside of his penis rasping against the diaphanous nylon stocking as her fingernails gently raked the top of his turgid cock though the silky slip.