Walk-In Clinic

It was dark when I finally exited the walk-in clinic. My first shock was the blast of night air that swept up under the short nurse’s shift and chilled my thighs. How women managed to tolerate wearing skirts and dresses in winter was a mystery to me. The sheer white panty-hose felt utterly foreign against my skin and provided little insulation compared to the slacks I’d arrived in, barely over an hour ago. To be sure, the panties I’d worn underneath had been mine, but that was the extent of my little flirtation with femininity … at least up until now.

Those blue panties had been my downfall. Once “Nurse” walked into the exam room and spotted them lying on the floor next to my feet, everything had changed. I’d been “outed” and there was no going back. I realized now that it was wasn’t just dumb luck that she’d walked back into the exam room a few minutes later and caught me masturbating; she’d intentionally brought me to that state of arousal during the initial exam and then left the room knowing that nature would take its course. The shocked look on her face I now realized was an act, as was her threat to call the police.

So if I didn’t believe she would call the police, why had I allowed myself to be humiliated and debased in front of all those women? And why was I walking across this parking lot dressed like a woman, right down to tampon that Nurse had shoved into my sore bottom. I had no answer for this, but I suspected it was the same reason I would show up here again tonight, as instructed, precisely at nine, dressed in even more flagrantly feminine attire. I really had no choice. It seemed I was already a changed person … and the night was still young.

Walking was awkward, thanks to the tampon and the fact she had taped and gaffed my penis back between my legs and tied it to the tampon string. Still it was nothing compared to the pain I’d experienced while on the examination table, my legs spread wide and strapped down while Nurse forced first a speculum and then her entire hand up inside me. Her audience of gleeful female coworkers had made my humiliation complete.

I slid painfully into my car and pulled out the slip of paper that “Nurse” had given to me. (That was how she’d signed it, and since I still didn’t know her real name, “Nurse” would have to do.) The instructions were quite explicit; I was to arrive at a small boutique shop located several miles from the clinic at exactly 8:00, and ring the bell. At that time of night there was a good chance that people outside the shop might see me dressed like this, and the thought was not comforting. A glance at the car clock told me that I’d have plenty of time to go home first and change into male clothes before going to the shop. Nurse had not specifically forbidden this, and I assumed it wouldn’t make any difference to the store’s proprietor.

Ten minutes later I was parked in the stall beneath my apartment building, contemplating how I would get upstairs without being seen. It was dinnertime, so most of my neighbors wouldn’t be out and about. I got out, quietly closed the car door, and padded up the inside stairs, thankful that I’d been allowed to keep wearing my tennis shoes. Unfortunately, my apartment was toward the end of the hallway, and there were four other doors I had to go past to get there.

I could hear televisions playing through the closed doors, and the smell of cooking told me my assumption about dinnertime had been correct. I reached my door and was just slipping my key into the lock when the door to the apartment next to mine opened and my neighbor Kayla stepped out. I stared at her in shock; there was no place to hide.

“Bret?” she asked, her eyes wide. “Is that you?”

“Uh, yeah,” I mumbled, still struggling with the key.

Kayla was single, recently divorced, and the last person I wanted to see at this moment. We’d never dated, but then I’d never really gotten the courage to ask her out either. Frankly, between her stunning good looks and air of quiet confidence, I always felt a little inadequate in her presence. She always dressed in a way that seemed slightly mannish, but somehow always sexy. Tonight that included a pair of skin-tight Levis and a tailored white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to three-quarter length. Enough buttons were left undone to give me a teasing glimpse of her perfect breasts, which jutted out nicely without the aid of a bra.

I tried the lock again, but then dropped my keys. “Oh… damn.”

Kayla’s shocked look quickly changed to one of amusement as she swept in and scooped up the keys. “Here, let me help.”

As she bent down I got an even better view of her cleavage. I could almost swear I saw a nipple… just before she glanced up and caught me looking. She smiled seductively and handed me the keys, then shocked me by patting my bottom with her other hand.

“Mmm… Very nice. This is a new look on you, Bret.”

“It’s uh, just uh…a joke.” It was a lame excuse, and I knew she wouldn’t buy it. I finally got the door unlocked and rushed inside. I turned to close it but was surprised to see that she’d followed me inside and now stood blocking the doorway.

“Really? A joke?” she asked in a mocking voice. “You must tell me all about it.” She pushed the door closed and twisted the deadbolt. Her smile had taken on an edge, as if she realized she had the upper hand and was now looking forward to using it.

Having no other choice, I broke down and told her about my visit to the walk-in clinic, beginning with the nurse’s discovery that I was wearing panties, and ending with my list of instructions for tonight’s return visit. I left out a few parts, including the gaff and the tampon, which was just too embarrassing. Even now I could feel it tugging at my penis, which–with a mind of its own–was trying to assert itself.

Kayla softened when she saw my eyes watering up. She began stroking my shoulders, but this just made me even more emotional. By the time I finished telling the story I could no longer hold back the tears. “I’m sorry, Kayla,” I blubbered. “I really should get moving now so I won’t be late.”

“Not so fast.” Kayla tightened her grip on my shoulder and her voice took on a hard edge. “Let me see those panties first.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Show me your cute little ass in those panties. Now!”

It was clear that Kayla wasn’t going to leave until she got what she wanted. Reluctantly, I turned and lifted up the back of the shift, exposing my bottom to her.

“Hmm… Let’s get these panty-hose out of the way.”

I stood there with my back turned toward her and held the shift up. She reached out and dug her fingers under the waistband of the panty-hose and pulled them down to my knees. Then her was running over the back of my blue panties.

“Hah! I thought so. Those are my panties, aren’t they? You stole them.”

Oh no. My worst fear had suddenly been realized. I hadn’t really known it until now, and now it was too late to do anything. “I don’t know, Kayla,” I replied in a meek voice, keeping my back turned toward her. “I found them in the laundry room.”

“Found them, hell. You stole them. And here I thought the dryer had eaten them.”

I had no defense. She had caught me red-handed. I should have guessed the panties were hers; they were the sexiest panties I’d ever seen, and she was the sexiest looking woman in the building. She stood there glaring at me, and in the intervening silence I heard someone knock on a door. I nearly jumped out of my skin, then realized that it wasn’t my door.

“Just a minute,” Kayla said, “I’m expecting someone. Let me check and see if that’s her.” As she unlocked my door she turned and fixed me with a stern gaze. “You stay right there, pervert. Don’t you dare move a muscle.”

She opened the door and stepped outside. I heard her greet someone, and then a female voice replied. I stood frozen in-place with the door partially open, holding the nurse’s shift up around my waist and my bare bottom facing the door. With my luck, Kayla would decide to invite the visitor into my apartment. Seconds later the door swooshed open and I heard the other female gasp in surprise.

“Oh my god, you weren’t kidding, Kayla!”

“Yes, isn’t she just adorable?” Kayla patted my exposed bottom. “Turn around Bret, and show my friend Brittany what cute little sissy you are.”

Oh no. I dropped the shift allowing it to cover my front. With my penis still taped and tied back to the end of the tampon string I looked like a girl down there. I had hoped to keep this part hidden but this wasn’t to be. As I slowly turned around to face them, Kayla barked another command.

“Lift your dress back up so we can get a good look at you.”

I hesitated a moment too long. Kayla stepped toward me, a no-nonsense look written on her pretty face. “Oh, just strip the damned thing off,” she barked. “Here, I’ll do it.” She reached out and began unbuttoning the shift.

I stood there helplessly while she stripped me, but still managed to steal a quick look at Kayla’s friend. She was smaller than Kayla, but perfectly proportioned from what I could see. Her brown hair was pulled back in a long ponytail and she wore a simple cotton peasant dress, giving her a decidedly more feminine look than the more athletic Kayla, with her pants, shirt, and blonde hair cut short. It suddenly occurred to me that these two might be lovers.

“See something you like, honey?” Kayla asked, noticing my stare as she pulled the shift up over my head and tossed it aside. “Well forget it–she’s spoken for.” She stepped over and gave the other woman a very aggressive, open-mouthed kiss, as if intentionally confirming my suspicions.

I was now naked from the waist up, with the panty-hose around my knees and my panties fully exposed, front and rear. I didn’t have to wait long for the inevitable reaction.

“Oh, look!” Kayla’s friend exclaimed, pointing to the front of the blue satin panties, pressed tightly against my groin. “It’s a she!”

Kayla –perhaps suspecting that Nurse and her friends had gaffed me–was more amused than surprised. “Not quite, Brittany. Pull your pretty panties down, sissy. Let’s see what your new friends have done to you.”

I was so humiliated at this point there seemed to be no point in offering any more resistance. Besides, Kayla’s commands had an edge to them that suggested things might get worse if I didn’t comply. I slipped my thumbs into the waistband of the panties and slid them down just enough to expose my little faux vagina.

“Hmm, interesting” Kayla stepped around behind me and placed her hand against the small of my back. “Bend over and show us the rest.”

I bent over at the waist, and was surprised to discover that the pain of my now-swollen and overstretched penis suddenly eased. Then I felt Kayla’s fingers tapping on the insides of my thighs.

“Spread ’em, sissy.”

“Huh?”

SMACK!! She whacked my buttock with the palm of her hand–hard. “Spread your damned legs and hold those butt-cheeks open. We want to see what you’re hiding down there.”

“Ow!” I planted my feet as wide apart as I could, then reached behind and pulled my buttocks open. As if my humiliation was not complete enough, the peals of laughter that rang out when the two women saw my makeshift gaff made it even worse.

“Gosh,” Brittany exclaimed, “Is that what I think it is?”

“Sure looks like one.” Kayla’s warm breath wafted across my bare bottom, which was still red and smarting from where she’d smacked me. I felt her tug at the tampon string. “Poor dear. She must be having her period.”

This was too much. I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Why do you keep calling me ‘she?’ My name is Bret. I’m a man! Why are you treating me like–”

SMACK!! This slap was harder than the last, and landed on the opposite buttock.

“Shut up, sissy,” Kayla snapped. “You can’t be Bret. Bret’s a man’s name. You must be his sister or something.”

“I know,” Brittany exclaimed. “Let’s call her Brenda. Her name is Brenda Sissy.”

“I think sissy will do for now,” Kayla replied, her hand now stroking my inflamed bottom possessively.

I knew better than to complain now that Kayla had show a willingness to use her surprisingly strong hand on my backside. Hopefully–seeing that I’d been totally subjugated and was offering no more resistance–they would get bored and leave. I still needed to change into some street clothes and get to that boutique by 8:00. My hopes were dashed in the next moment by Kayla.

“Brenda has an appointment tonight.” Kayla quickly told her about my earlier sojourn to the walk-in clinic, and described my commitments for later that evening.

“Oh, that sounds delightful. Maybe we can help her get ready?”

“I don’t see why not,” Kayla replied. “But first she needs a little corrective discipline for a mistake she made earlier.”

“Mistake?” I asked in a small voice. I had remained bent over, my hands holding my sore buttocks, during this entire exchange. Needless to say, it was uncomfortable, but after Kayla’s earlier outburst I dared not move or defy her again.

“Yes,” Kayla replied. “The little pervert stole some of my underwear from the laundry room.”

“I thought I recognized those blue panties,” said Brittany, confirming my earlier guess that they were intimate–at least enough so that she knew Kayla’s panties when she saw them. “What are you going to do to him, uh, her?”

“Restitution, of course, but first a mild spanking seems in order. I’m sure Brenda will feel much better about this whole thing once she’s accepted a little punishment. Am I right, sissy?”

A pat on my bottom suggested I had no choice but to agree. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Cool! Can I help?” Brittany asked.

“Of course. In fact I insist. Stand up now, sissy, and kick off those tennis shoes but leave your panties and panty-hose as they are.” Kayla strode over to my sofa and sat down in the middle of it. I saw her remove her sandals and place one of them on the arm of the sofa beside her. “Now come over here and lay across my lap. Face down.”

Uh, oh. This “punishment” was starting to look more serious I had expected. I made a last-ditch effort to talk my way out of it. “I’m sorry, Kayla. Please forgive me. I’ll pay for the panties.”

“Yes, you will, but right now I’m going to give you something you’ll remember for a long time.” She pointed toward the end of the sofa. “Brittany, sit on the end here so Brenda can rest her face in your lap. Hold her down if she starts to squirm too much.”

When I’d selected that sofa I had no idea I would regret not buying the shorter version. This added new meaning to the term “buyer’s remorse.” Kayla hooked her finger at me and I minced my way over to the sofa, hobbled by the panty-hose around my knees. Moments later I found myself sprawled face-down with my crotch centered over Kayla’s thighs and my face buried in Brittany’s lap. A warm, musky scent told me that Brittany was already aroused. The painful pull of the tampon string against my taped and restrained penis left no doubt that I was also getting aroused.

“Lift your hips a smidge, sissy.”

I did so, and Kayla pulled my panties down more until they were wrapped around my bare thighs. Oddly this made me feel even more exposed than if I’d been wearing nothing at all. Her hands roamed freely over my bare bottom, as if scouting the territory they would shortly conquer. Then there was a pause, during which I imagined she grabbed the sandal. Even though I expected it, the first blow was still a shock.

WHACK!

“Oww!” I cried out. The sandal was much more painful than her hand had been.

“Hush, sissy. Now that one doesn’t count. We’ll have to start over.”

WHACK! WHACK!

I bit my lip and tried to remain silent. My horizontal position, combined with the sandal, obviously gave Kayla better leverage; her blows were delivered with much more force than before.

WHACK! WHACK!

I whimpered and squirmed with each blow. In response, Brittany pushed my head down tighter into her lap. The musky smell became stronger; she was definitely secreting juices down there. This made my penis swell and strain even more, but the tape and string held it fast. That pain was eclipsed by the punishment my bottom was receiving. Kayla had barely started and my buttocks already felt like they were on fire. My eyes began to tear up from the pain and the strain of not being able to cry out.

Brittany felt the first of my tears through her thin cotton dress. “Wait,” she said. “Sissy is getting tear-stains on my dress.” She lifted my head and pulled the bottom edge of her dress free. My mouth and nose were now pressed directly against her panties. They were white, very thin, and already soaked with her juices. Obviously, a few tears wouldn’t matter now. The hot, shadowy crevice grew even darker as her dress fluttered down to cover the back of my head.

WHACK! WHACK!

My tears flowed freely now, mixing with Brittany’s female juices around my nose. My involuntary flinches only served to increase her excitement. She spread her thighs open and pushed my head down harder until my face was literally buried in the soft, wet heat of her panty-clad vagina. It soon became apparent that she was trying to use my nose like a dildo. Each breath was a struggle, and all the while Kayla’s blows continued to fall.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

I felt Brittany stiffen, and I drew a large breath knowing what was next. Sure enough, she pressed my face into her crotch with renewed strength as a sudden gush of moisture signaled her impending orgasm. She shuddered, holding me there, and though my ears were pressed against her soft inner thighs I could still hear her ecstatic moans. Kayla must have noticed what was happening. Knowing my increased struggles would only heighten Brittany’s climax, she increased the frequency of her blows on my poor, abused bottom.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

I struggled mightily, as expected, but the two women held me tight against them as Brittany rode out her orgasm in successive waves. At last she began to relax her hold, and not a moment too soon. I gasped and sucked in a hot, sex-scented breath of air, not caring that it was sprinkled with Brittany’s juices flowing freely down my nostrils and into my mouth. Kayla’s blows subsided at last, completing my sense of relief. Only one source of tension remianed, and there wasn’t much I could do about that.

As if reading my thoughts, I felt Kayla’s fingers dive into the crevice between my inflamed buttocks and pull at the string. “Hmm…. This looks like a slip-knot,” she said. Seconds later I felt the string give way. My throbbing penis sprang forward against her thigh. “Oh my, what have we here? Roll over, sissy. Show us your little clittie.”

With Brittany and Kayla helping, I spun on their laps so that I was facing up. I winced in pain as my reddened bottom rubbed against Kayla’s pants, eliciting a sympathetic look from Kayla. I must have been a sight, with my long hair matted down, eyes red from crying, and Brittany’s love juices all over my face.

“There, there, sissy,” Kayla soothed. “You did fine. The punishment is over.” She tugged at my panties. “Let’s get these off of you.”

With Brittany’s help I was quickly stripped of the panty-hose and then the panties, leaving me completely naked in the laps of two beautiful women as if I were a child ready to be diapered. It was extremely embarrassing, but little did I know that my humiliation at their hands had only begun.

“Hold your knees up, sissy.” As I did so, Kayla gently pushed my thighs apart and then reached down and gave the tampon string a tug.

“Ow. It hurts.”

“Sorry but this has to come out, if we’re going to get you ready. Brittany, will you please distract her for me?”

My head was still in Brittany’s lap. She looked down at me and smiled. “Open your mouth, sissy.” Then, to my complete surprise, she pulled the elasticized top of her dress down over her shoulder, exposing a perfect, peach-sized breast. The nipple was pink and swollen and begging to be sucked. She leaned forward and placed it between my eager lips. I eagerly began to suckle on it. Now I really did feel like a baby; naked, with Brittany’s beautiful breast in my mouth and Kayla’s busy fingers probing between my wide open buttocks.