So the doctor ordered a vaginal cleaning, in case there was something dangerous stuck inside. And of course Frank was stuck with the cleaning duty. A special device was used to hold her snatch open, and then Frank went in with the special swab on the end of two fingers. He rubbed the inside of her pussy, and for the second time in one night, he made a woman moan. Her thighs closed in on Frank’s body. “Do I need to get the stirrups?” Frank asked.
“No—I’m sorry. It just—it just feels really good, whatever you’re doing.”
“I’m just scrubbing to make sure there are no foreign bodies in your—uh—vagina,” he said. He kept scrubbing and she kept squirming. And for the second time that night, a woman squirted on Frank. Frank was shocked an hour later when a man came into the hospital looking for her. Apparently he was her husband, and apparently she really wasn’t a prostitute. She just had a questionable fashion sense. It was shortly after she left that one of her tests came back—there was residue from a latex condom in her pussy. She was apparently allergic to latex, which she didn’t know because she supposedly very rarely had sex.
When Frank returned to his supervisor to find out his next task, he shouldn’t have been surprised when it was another anal extraction. This time a woman had lost a Sharpie up her ass. And it wasn’t quite as easy to get out as the vibrator. It was an especially awkward job as the woman’s husband was standing next to Frank the whole time, watching Frank carefully as if he didn’t trust him. It took quite a bit of digging and squirming to find the Sharpie, but luckily Frank didn’t get squirted on this time.
“I’ve had my fingers up enough assholes today,” Frank said to his supervisor before receiving his fourth task of the night.
“In that case, I want you at your wing, watching the overnight patients. You may have to drain a few catheters and change a few bedpans.”
“As long as my fingers don’t have to go up any more assholes,” Frank said. He went up to his wing, which was pleasantly quiet compared to the emergency room, even though there was an old Asian woman moaning in one of the rooms with what was apparently just constipation.
Frank started by going room to room, introducing himself to the nightly patients. There were only four: a woman with a fractured hip, a very gay man who swallowed a used condom (they wanted to keep him under supervision until the condom passed through the other end), a man recovering from a small heart attack, and Erin.
Frank was shocked to see that Erin was still there. Her face lit up when she saw Frank standing in the doorway. “It’s my favourite nurse,” she said with a big smile.
“Why are you still here?” he asked.
“Apparently there’s some internal damage or something, and now I have to stay for at least a few nights—that’s what they said. I’m probably dying and they just don’t want to tell me.”
Frank picked up her chart and looked at the updates since he’d last looked. Apparently they were about to discharge her and then she coughed up some blood. They ran a few tests and saw that there was some damage to one of her lungs, and some damage to a few other organs. “Those stairs really messed you up, huh?” Frank said.
And her cheeks became rosy. “Yeah, I guess they did,” she said. “And they could apparently tell that I’d been out of bed. I got an earful this morning from the doctor. I don’t think he likes me.”
“He just wants you to get better,” Frank said. He put the chart back and found himself staring at the beautiful brunette. He was happy to see her, and happy that he was going to be seeing her for the next few days—even though he knew he had no chance with her. Sometimes it was nice to have a fantasy. Sometimes a little fantasy was enough to make the days less tedious.
“I’m not even allowed to get up to use the bathroom,” she said.
“I saw that on your chart. So get comfortable. If you’ve got an iPad or a laptop at home, ask a friend to bring it for you.”
“Oh my God, I would kill to have my iPad. But I don’t really have any friends,” she said.
“What about family members?” Frank asked.
“No one in town,” she said.
Frank was tempted to ask about the few dozen friends she had on her Facebook account, but he resisted the urge; the last thing he wanted to do was reveal that he’d been creeping her online from his house. “You don’t know anyone who can bring you your iPad?”
“I don’t live far away—just five blocks. Maybe I can go get it and no one will notice,” she said, trying to sit up. Frank leapt in and put his hand on her collarbone, stopping her from raising any further. There was already a doctor who probably had a grudge with Frank for letting her wander around the previous night. He couldn’t let her go off again.
“I’m on my break in ten minutes. Where do you live? Maybe I can grab it for you.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” she said.
“I’d sooner grab it then have you sneak off to grab it. Seriously—I don’t mind.”
She hesitated but then she gave him her address and told her to reach into her shorts pocket to grab her house key. Her shorts were in her bag with the rest of the clothes she came into the hospital wearing, the previous night. As Frank reached for the shorts, his hand brushed a tinge of red lace: her panties. They were tiny panties—more like a thong. His heart skipped a beat and he found himself imagining her in the tiny red panties. “Find them?” Erin asked.
“Yeah, they’re here,” Frank said, pulling the keys out. He had the address written down on a little piece of paper. “I’ll grab your iPad. Anything else?” he asked.
“A charging cable. Everything should be in my bedroom.”
So for Frank’s dinner break, he found himself walking down the street towards Erin’s house. He was breaking so many hospital rules, but he knew it was for the best. He knew that Erin would try to sneak away when he wasn’t looking, and she would end up doing more damage to her already battered body. He couldn’t let that happen—so what was the harm in running over to her house to grab an iPad?
Her place was small and rundown. The front lawn was overgrown and the door looked like it was about to fall off. Frank was careful opening it. He didn’t want to be the one to make it fall off. He tried three keys before he found the one that worked, and then he found himself inside of Erin’s house.
There were only a few rooms in the house, so finding her bedroom wasn’t hard at all. It was a bit of a mess—clothes on the floor and an unmade bed—but Frank had seen worse. At least it didn’t smell, and there wasn’t any old food lying around. Frank searched around for the iPad. It wasn’t so easy to find. He checked on the dresser and on the nightstand, and then he checked under the bed. He found the charger plugged into the wall, but the charger was pointless without the iPad.
While he was searching through drawers, he found a picture of a guy: probably the boyfriend. He was a short, thin guy with a gentle face. He didn’t look like the kind of guy to put a woman in the hospital. Maybe he was the guy she was seeing behind the abusive boyfriend’s back—or maybe he was her brother. He looked very similar upon closer inspection.
In fact, Frank couldn’t find any evidence of any boyfriend in the house. He found himself looking in other rooms for the iPad, and to see if she was single. There were no photos of any guys, except for the one of her maybe-brother in the dresser. There were no flowers and no love notes. Frank found some photos, but they were all of scenery or selfies of Erin. She looked cute in the selfies.
In Erin’s closet, Frank found some sexy lingerie. There was a black satin slip hanging with a white cotton tail, and under it was a pair of bunny ears: a Playboy model costume. Frank’s heart leapt at the sight of the sexy outfit, and he couldn’t help but imagine the sexy brunette in the little outfit. He also found a red lace one-piece in the closet, which teased his imagination.
But he wasn’t there to obsess over a pretty patient. He was there to find an iPad—and he managed to find the iPad a few minutes later, under the covers of her bed.
Before he left her house, he decided to look around in the iPad. He went straight to photos and found tons of selfies—taken wearing different outfits. Apparently Erin was a bit of a fashionista. There were thousands of photos, and she looked amazingly cute in all of them. And Frank didn’t have to scroll far before he found the photos of Erin in the Playboy bunny outfit.
She looked good, with dark red lipstick and her big shining eyes. She stood with her hip out to the side and her head tilted with sass. Her tits looked perky and perfect. The image was enough to get Frank hard.
He flicked through more photos, desperately hoping for nudes. He felt like a complete creep, but he couldn’t help himself. She would never find out and this was his only chance. He found a single topless photo. Erin’s breasts were big and perky—almost appearing fake. Her nipples were erect and she had a big shy grin on her face, even though she appeared to be alone in her bedroom. But if she was taking topless shots, surely she was sending them to someone. Surely she wasn’t just taking them for her own enjoyment… But who were the photos for?
Frank felt even more uncomfortable with himself as he checked Erin’s messages. There were no messages sent to any boys recently, and there were no messages that sounded even remotely romantic. After he finished snooping her messages, he saw her Tinder app. It was currently open, which meant she must have been using it recently. It wasn’t hidden in any folder—it was out in the open. If she were in a relationship, why would she have the Tinder app? Maybe she was single. Maybe she was available. Maybe Frank did have a chance with her…
He stuck the iPad into a plastic bag, along with the charger. And then he made sure everything was how he left it before heading back towards the hospital. He couldn’t fight the smile from his face. Seeing Erin’s natural habitat gave him a strange sense of hope—it made her seem like a real woman, and not just an impossibly beautiful model that happened to be stuck in a hospital bed.
“It took a few minutes to find,” Frank said, handing the iPad to Erin.
“Sorry—my house is a mess. It’s usually much cleaner, but I’ve been so sick the past few weeks. I only started feeling better yesterday.”
“Sick? How so?” Frank asked.
Then her skin turned strangely pale, as if she hadn’t meant to admit that she’d been sick. “Just a cold,” she said, but Frank could tell that there was more to that story. His first instinct was that she’d gotten some sort of STD from some guy on Tinder. But he tried to push that possibility out of his head. He had a nice image of Erin in his mind and he didn’t want to ruin it.
“Well, if you need anything else, just let me know. I’ll be making rounds all night,” Frank said. He started towards the door.
“Wait,” she said. He looked back at her. Her face was dark red. She bit her bottom lip. “I, uh, don’t want to make you do this, but if I really can’t get up, then…” She stared down at her lap.
“What is it?” Frank asked.
“I need my bedpan changed. I peed while you were gone. I tried to hold it, but I just couldn’t hold it anymore. I’d been holding it for twelve hours already—and they told me to drink lots of water.”
Frank laughed. “I don’t mind. I’ve changed thousands of bedpans before—don’t worry.” He walked over. Her face was white like a bed sheet. She stared into his eyes, and then she looked away. It wasn’t unusual for people—women especially—to be embarrassed about their bedpans. She’d probably gone poop—women hate admitting that they went poop.
Frank lifted up her hospital gown and saw what she was so embarrassed over: it wasn’t anything that had come out from her body—it was her big, thick cock. Frank paused a moment. So the chart wasn’t wrong—she really was a male biologically.
Frank took the bedpan and he changed it out, without saying anything. He didn’t know what to say. His head was spinning. He’d spent the past twelve hours fawning over a biological male—not just fawning, but also snooping around her house, admiring her lingerie, looking at sexy private photos on her iPad. He had no idea he’d been looking at a man the whole time.
He picked up her chart. “What are you doing?” she asked, breaking her own silence.
“Just marking the time of the bedpan change,” he said. He marked the time and then he saw that scribbled out checkmark next to ‘male’. He looked at Erin and then back at the chart. And then he scribbled out the checkmark next to ‘female’ and put a new one next to male. He casually slipped the chart back into its slot and then he smiled at Erin and left to check on his other patients. Erin didn’t say anything else as Frank slipped away—she was probably too embarrassed.
CHAPTER V
For the rest of that night, Frank tried to minimize his contact with Erin, because whenever he was around her, he found himself clamming up and feeling terribly awkward. It wouldn’t have been so bad had he not snooped around her house or gotten a massive erection while looking at her topless photo on her iPad. And it wouldn’t have been so awkward if the image of Erin in the Playboy bunny outfit weren’t still lingering in the front of his mind.
It was around midnight when he was asked to get a new set of blood samples from Erin. She was sleeping when he went into her room. He had to wake her up. “Sorry,” he said when she looked into his eyes.
“It’s fine. Just get it over with,” she said.
So he pulled up the sleeve of her hospital gown and then he cleaned the surface of her arm where he would extract the blood. Her skin was soft, like a woman’s—which seemed unusual. He’d taken thousands of blood samples before, and he’d felt the skin of thousands of people. He’d even taken blood from a few transgenders in his two years working at the hospital. But even the transgenders never had skin as soft as Erin’s. And the other transgenders certainly weren’t anywhere near as convincing as Erin. In fact, Frank found himself staring at Erin while she was looking away from the needle.
He was trying to see if she had a noticeable Adam’s apple, or if there was some five o’clock shadow starting to sprout after thirty hours stuck in a hospital. But her face was just as smooth as the underside of her arm. She’d probably been taking hormones for quite some time—maybe she’d even had procedures done to remove body hair completely…
“Get what you need?” she asked.
“I just need one more vial,” Frank said. He looked down at her body. She was so small and fragile-looking. She looked so harmless and so feminine. She was more feminine than the girl with the vibrator stuck in her asshole—even she had broad shoulders for her size. But Erin didn’t have broad shoulders, which was more impressive than her lack of an Adam’s apple.
“Why are you staring at me?” Erin asked.
And then Frank looked away swiftly. “I was just making sure you were okay,” he said.
“I’ve had blood taken before,” she said.
“Right.” Frank felt warmth burning in his cheeks. He forced a smile and he stepped away from Erin. He quickly labelled his vials and he got out of her room before the awkwardness became too overwhelming.
When he returned an hour later to check on her, she was asleep.
The guy who swallowed the condom had successfully passed the condom, so he’d been sent home. The man who’d had the small heart attack had been sent home with a prescription for his blood pressure. And the girl with the fractured hip had been transferred to another floor. So Erin was now Frank’s only patient.
Frank went and sat out behind his supervisor’s desk. He put his legs up on a free chair and he took a deep breath. It had been a hectic night, but it was almost over. All Frank wanted to do was get home and take a long shower—soap his hands a dozen times until he could forget about all of the asshole’s he’d been inside that day.
He felt a wave of relief when his supervisor returned from her break and sent him home early. He hurried home and went straight into the shower. He let the hot water stream down his body for nearly forty minutes. He nearly fell asleep standing up a few times, but he didn’t want to get out of t
he shower until he was as clean as humanly possible. And maybe it wasn’t the assholes he was trying to wash away—maybe it was Erin’s secret manhood. Maybe he felt dirty because he’d snuck around a tranny’s house and admired her lingerie and he’d touched her red lacy panties.
But that image refused to leave his mind: the image he saw on her iPad, and the image he’d created in his mind. He could see her perfectly: her smooth, soft naked body with her long, curved erection. Why did that image refuse to leave his mind? And why was that image so arousing?
Frank was certain that he wasn’t gay. He’d never felt anything for any man ever. In fact, sometimes when he had to deal with a male patient, he struggled. Performing anal extractions on females wasn’t so bad—but when he had to stick his rubber-clad fingers into a guy’s butthole… The thought alone was enough to make Frank gag.
But now, as he stood in the warm shower, surrounded by plumes of steam, he couldn’t shake that image from his mind, and he couldn’t stop his own cock from becoming erect. It stood tall and throbbed, as if it was calling out to him. He resisted at first, but his resistance didn’t last long. He caved and reached down to jerk himself off. At first he tried to think of other girls: old high school crushes, nurses that worked at the hospital with him, actresses he knew from TV… But it was the image of Erin that insisted on plaguing his mind—and she brought her big, hard cock with her.
It didn’t take Frank long to get off. He sprayed his shower wall with heavy globs of white cum. His legs trembled and he let out a long, elated groan. He wasn’t proud of himself, but at least the confusing feels left his body along with that warm white load. At least he was now free from the transgendered images in his mind—though that freedom wouldn’t last long. They came back to him in his dreams.
He had one particularly vivid dream in which his supervisor ordered him to jerk Erin off. He told his supervisor that he wouldn’t do it, and then she told him that his job was on the line, so he found himself on his knees before Erin’s hospital bed. He reached under her hospital gown and he wrapped his fingers around her girth. And after a minute of stroking, he stuck his head under that gown and he started sucking. Her strong thighs closed in on his head and he was stuck there when she started to unload her cum. Frank gagged but he liked it—he liked the warm feeling and he liked the taste. He even swallowed. He slipped out from under her hospital gown and then he crawled on top of her. They kissed. She tasted her own cum off of his lips. Frank knew he was kissing a biological male, but he didn’t seem to care—and he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
GIRLIFIED: 15 BOOKS MEGA BUNDLE Page 66
