Chapter 6: Retribution

‘Dr Stephen Mortlock esq’ the card read followed by his phone number and his work address in a suite of offices used by medical specialists. The folded piece of paper attached by a paperclip read:

‘Be there at 7PM sharp. He likes the nurse uniform so wear it and get dressed before you go. Go there and back in a hire car; Polly will give you the number. He’s only paid for an hour so don’t give him any extras. AM’

Scrawled on the back was the address of a private residence in one of the better suburbs of Chelmsford.

Matron Amanda Holliday had left the curt note in Michael’s locker. He’d worked the day shift and Matron hadn’t mentioned anything at all about the prostitution business, his crossdressing, or the orgy they had both recently attended.

In fact she had been quite civil and professional, as had all the other nurses on his shift. The one change he’s noticed was that Polly had had her ward assignment altered. He wasn’t sure if this was some sort or retribution or just a reorganisation of staff.

He got home just after 5PM and called Polly; in his mind he once again changed from Michael to Michele.

“Matron’s testing you. Sending you out on your own. All her prossies use the same car company; she obviously has a deal with them and they keep her girls safe to and from their jobs,” Polly explained.

“And the bitch has put me on C ward; I think that she thinks we’re getting too close.”

“Do you think she knows we’re lovers?” Michele asked.

“Is that what we are?” Polly inquired.

“Oh,” the disappointment was evident in Michele’s voice.

“Oh sugar, I’m just teasing; of course we are lovers,” she cooed.

She gave Michele the details of the car company.

“Good luck darling; can I come around after?” Polly asked.

‘It’s ‘darling’ now is it?’ Michele thought.

“Sure, I should be back around 8.30; I’ll call you from home,” Michele finished and hung up.

Michele shaved, showered and douched. She sat in front of the vanity and began her transformation

She took a sponge and applied generous amounts of foundation to her face then she picked up a brush and applied finishing powder. She rouged her cheeks, accenting her high feminine cheekbones and applied eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara. She finished with another light dusting of powder and plum red lipstick.

Pouring herself a drink and lighting up a ciggy she settled down on the couch and applied bright red nail polish to her toenails and fingernails and finished with a liberal spray of perfume. She crushed out her fag and went back into the second bedroom.

Michele selected the black bob fitted the wig, combed it and adjusted it. She selected a pair of black nylon full-cut panties and stepped into them and adjusted the waistband and pulled on a black satin garter belt. She secured her breastforms to her freshly shaved chest and put on her black brassiere to hold them in place. Now the best part, she smoothed on a pair of the fully-fashioned stockings and clipped the garters to the welts of the stockings. She straightened the seams.

Michele stepped into the navy-blue satin faux nurse’s uniform; pulled it up and zipped it closed. It was so tight that she struggled to straighten it out. She sat on the bed and lifted her feet and placed a black, shiny, high heel on each one. Time to accessorise.

The simple gold ankle chain was fastened around Michele’s slim ankle followed by gold bracelets on each wrist. She placed a gold chain around her neck and clipped matching earrings to her ears. She put rings on her fingers and stood up and inspected herself in the mirror. She made a few adjustments and was finally happy.

As she looked at herself in the mirror, she was once again stunned by how feminine and attractive she looked.

She packed her clutch purse with the necessities and sat drinking and smoking, watching the clock until finally she heard the toot of a horn from outside. Michele opened the door and peeked outside to ensure no nosy neighbours were watching and she closed the door behind her and got into the rear of the limousine.

The driver ogled her during the twenty-minute trip but had nothing to say. Michele sat in the gloomy rear of the car smoking and thinking. She recalled that Stephen Mortlock was the man who she had fellated while his friend Charles fucked her at the orgy at Richmond estate. He’d seemed nice enough and said that we would request her services and sure enough he was true to his word.

The driver dropped Michele off at a small but well-appointed and obviously expensive town house and as Michele walked up to the door it opened wide and there was Dr Stephen Mortlock esq ginning at her. He was wearing a smoking jacket and slippers and didn’t appear to be wearing much of anything else.

“You look stunning my dear; or should I call you nurse?” he beamed, holding out his hand.

As soon as she was inside the house, Stephen’s demeanour changed. He was no longer the pleasant gentleman who had been courteous with her at Richmond Estate; he was quite gruff and blunt.

“Ok nurse I’ve only got an hour so lets not fuck about too much with formalities shall we? I’ve paid good money for your services so let’s get on with proceedings shall we,” he demanded.

He pulled Michele unceremoniously into one of the downstairs bedrooms.

Stephen looked Michele over slowly with hungry eyes. He looked down at her high-heeled pumps and followed her shapely; nylon encased legs to where they disappeared inside the hem of her nurse’s tunic. His eyes continued up the tight nurse’s uniform, resting for a few seconds on her large false breasts straining the buttons of the tunic. He gazed at Michele’s face, lingering on her full plum-red lips, her heavily mascaraed eyes and her rouged cheeks framed by the jet-black bob.

He dropped his smoking jacket to the floor and as Michele had figured he was naked underneath it.

“You look like you are worth every penny I’ve paid; now the Doctor want’s his nurse!” he grinned and pulled Michele to him.

Stephen thrust his tongue into her mouth, crushing his lips against Michele’s. He groaned and his hand went under her skirt and he began to brutally squeeze her buttocks through the silky satin panties. Michele felt his rock hard penis pushing against her though the flimsy fabric of the uniform. Then he pushed her away.

“Lift your skirt nurse!” he demanded.

“What’s that Stephen?” Michele stammered, a little confused.

Slap! Stephen’s hand snaked out and backhanded Michele across her cheek.

“Lift yer fucking skirt Nurse; just do as I say! I’m paying for this and if I’m not happy Matron will know immediately!” he growled.

Michele took the hem of her uniform in both hands and slowly raised it up her legs. Stephen’s eyes followed the hem and opened wide as her firm thighs, encased in gossamer nylons, slowly came into view. He gasped as the first glimpse of black satin panty was exposed. He reached out and stroked his hand up and down her thighs; his soft doctor’s hand slithering over the gossamer nylon.

“Mmmm Michele, you’re just what I ordered; now lets see if your bottom is as good as your top!”

“Charles informs me that you me are a wonderful fuck but of course I only got to sample your mouth at Richmond so I now intend to sample your other attributes,” he grinned.

He grabbed Michele roughly and spun her around so that she was facing the bed. He pushed down on her shoulders and Michele fell forward doubled over so she that was tottering on her heels. He positioned himself behind her, kicking her heels apart.

This was not the eloquent and considerate Dr Stephen Mortlock who she had serviced at the Richmond Estate; this man was brutish and forceful. Michele ensured her purse was in easy reach because she didn’t expect any consideration from Stephen. He obviously wanted to fuck her and send her on her way.

Michele felt Stephen lift her dress and push it over her back so that her silky buttocks were exposed and thrust up at him. She felt his engorged penis push against her pantied behind; it rubbed all over her satin encased buttocks. Then she felt his erection slide under the silken gusset of her panties and wedge itself in the valley of her behind.

Stephen readjusted his member so that glans was nestled in the rosebud of her sphincter. Stephen pulled the gusset of her panties across her buttocks so that he had an unobstructed view of his penis poised at her rear entrance; his erect member pushing against her bud.

Michele had anticipated this and had her tube of lubricant at hand.

Michele awkwardly reached behind her and felt around until her hand came into contact with Stephen’s engorged phallus. It was rock hard and it felt enormous and menacing as it throbbed in her hand. Stephen looked down to see her standing legs wide apart on her high-heels, her legs encased in diaphanous fully-fashioned nylons and her black satin panties pushed to one side. He watched as her long delicate fingers, their red painted nails glimmering with the shine of the lubricant, slid feather-like up and down his hard cock, coating it with a generous amount of lubricant.

Michele was not enjoying the experience at all. She felt like she was nothing more than a whore; providing a receptacle for Dr Stephen Mortlock esq to empty himself without any consideration of her feelings.

She felt the glans of his penis slide inside her tight hole, the lube assisted but the pain of having Stephen’s hard cock roughly inserted in her anus without foreplay or preamble was in no way stimulating.

“Oh!” Michele groaned as the hard phallus slid past her sphincter.

Michele was impaled on the head of Stephen’s penis, her legs spread, dress hitched up and Stephen’s opulent stomach hanging over her as he thrust forward. In the wardrobe mirror she could see that his eyes were closed in concentration and ecstasy as he stuffed his tumescent member inside her. He was groaning and gripping her so hard that she could hardly keep on her feet as her insides were invaded.

Stephen’s well-lubricated shaft drove itself all the way inside her. It was so big, and in her so deep that it knocked the wind out of her and rocked her on her heels. Michele felt Stephen’s flabby thighs against hers as his full weight was pressed against her.

“Ok nurse, lets fuck,” he grunted

He pulled her back against him and pushed harder as he assaulted her back passage. Stephen slowly thrust in and out of her, hardly moving his cock more than an inch in and out; he was panting as he slobbered at her neck, kissing and licking her. He stroked her thighs and groin as he slowly fucked her; he was obviously delighted by the feel of slinky nylon and satin on his skin.

Stephen began to fuck her harder and faster, he breathed heavily, exhaling great explosions of breath as he established a hard and fast rhythm.

Stephen was thrusting against her, his hand was under the front her dress ferreting around, pawing and stroking as he slobbered at her neck; thrusting in and out, pivoting his waist to get all of himself inside her, rubbing his scrotum on her panty covered buttocks as he fucked her.

Michele’s back passage was full and aching with the girth of the invading member as it slid in and out of her, but she began to feel the spongy hard mass of Stephen’s glans as it pushed on her prostate. She couldn’t believe it but the first ripple of sexual pleasure began to originate deep inside her.

She leant further forward so that her buttocks were presented to her assailant and she swayed her hips from side to side to increase Stephen’s pleasure and ensure her nylon encased cheeks rubbed against him, as he obviously loved the sensation. Michele turned her head so that Stephen could kiss her pouting lips.

Stephen pounded himself in and out of her and fucked her harder, grunting and panting with pleasure. He gripped her hips and pulled her back against him as he thrust forward and held her still jackhammering himself in and out of her, groaning and cursing.

“Nurse! Take my load!” he screamed.

He thrust himself deep inside her and ground his scrotum against her nyloned cheeks as he shuddered. His grip on her waist was like iron. She felt his cock convulse inside her as it shuddered and secreted his hot spend. Stephen’s cock actually expanded as his hot seed streamed into her. He held her tight, shuddering as his orgasm overpowered his senses.

Michele couldn’t move, she was bent over, her back aching, her legs locked apart and her anus spasmed but not with pleasure, but with discomfort. Stephen pushed her foreword and she landed on the bed, her legs spread and dress hiked up.

Stephen leant over her and kissed her on the lips.

“That was worth every penny nurse,” he laughed.

“You can clean up in the bathroom. Please leave quietly; I’ll have your car here in five minutes,” he said perfunctorily.

Michele lurched her way to the bathroom, her legs still shaking. This encounter was not what she thought it would be but she realised that she needed to be pragmatic. Not every punter was going to treat her like a paramour; obviously some were going to treat her like a whore. Polly had warned her accordingly.

She cleaned up, adjusted her dress and fixed her makeup. She did not expect that Dr Stephen Mortlock esq would see her to the door and she was correct. He had however left a five pound note on the hall table, which she rightly assumed was hers and she stuffed it in her purse.

She opened the door and saw her car waiting and with profuse relief she lit a cigarette and stepped onto the pavement to in order to leave Dr Stephen Mortlock’s abode and retire to her own little flat and the welcome ministrations of Polly.

She nearly made it ... nearly.

As she alighted from the bottom step of Dr Stephen Mortlock’s town house she tripped on her heels. Luckily, or so she thought, she landed in the arms of a rather handsome gentleman dressed in a tweed suit and a London Fog overcoat.

“Well what do he have here then?” he asseverated.

“Thank you sir,” Michele said, keen to get into her limousine and go home.

The man helped Michele to her feet but he didn’t relinquish his grip.

“So who are you and where are you going?” he asked, his tone implied authority.

“I’m Michele and I’m going to get into that car and go home to my place in Southeast Chelmsford; it’s only twenty minutes away,” Michele said dismissively and tried to make a break for the car.

To her dismay the limousine suddenly accelerated and left the kerb.

“I though so; you’re a tranny aren’t you? Look how you are dressed!” the man said.

“So what is that to you? All I want to do is go home,” Michele pleaded.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Inspector Jean Burgess of Chelmsford CID.

He reached into his overcoat and produced a badge. Michele had not had any dealings with the law before but knew her situation was perilous.

“I just want to go home,” Michele implored.

“Well that’s all well and good but it’s obvious to me that you are a man dressed as a woman. You’re in the street of an affluent neighbourhood; do you have a legitimate reason to be here?” he asked.

Michele knew she was in a precarious situation; she couldn’t say that she had been at Dr Stephen Mortlock’s residence to service him because that would mean a prostitution charge for her and a solicitation charge for him. Matron would not be happy. But what did she have to lose if she told a fabrication of the truth?

“My name is Michele and I was visiting with Dr Stephen Mortlock esq,” she said, indignantly.

“Wait here ma’am or sir, whatever,” the Inspector said and knocked on Dr Stephen Mortlock’s door.

The door opened and a conversation took place between Inspector Burgess and Doctor Mortlock, which Michele was unable to hear. Inspector Burgess returned to where Michele stood on the cold cobblestones and looked at her gravely.

“Do you have any form of identity?’ he asked officiously.

“Well no,” Michele replied, her heart sank.

“Well in the absence of any form of identity and given that you are a transvestite with no legitimate reason for being here, I’m arresting you for lewd conduct and gross indecency,” he said.

Michele’s heart sank.

He took Michele by the arm and half-dragged her over to his car. He opened the passenger door and shoved her in and hopped in the driver’s side. Her ridiculously short nurse’s uniform rode up exposing her long legs and the Inspector lived up to his title as he inspected of her stocking-clad pins.

“Don’t see many nurses dressed like you,” he mocked.

“Quite the little strumpet aren’t you?”

“It’s just a costume,” Michele sneered at him trying to pull down the hem of her tunic.

“Yes well, men dressed as sexy nurses walking in respectable neighbourhoods with no valid reason or any means of identity should be careful how they deal with law enforcement. Don’t you think; Michele is it?” he smiled at her.