Doctors Orders
- 1 year ago
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Doctor's Orders free porn video
Doctor's Orders
Two short fantasies about crossdressing for medical reasons.
Calf Strengthening
A year ago, I had a bad auto accident. I broke a few bones, but nothing
life-threatening. The worst injury turned out to be terrible gashes I
received across the back of both of my legs. The cuts tore both of my
calf muscles. Despite a lot of physical therapy, I just couldn't get my
strength back to normal. This is troubling, because I work as a bank
teller and I'm standing behind the counter almost all day. I live in
horrible pain.
Out of all conventional treatments, my physical therapist recommended
something radical. My problem, Chrissy said, is that I'm not doing enough
therapy. My muscles respond the two times a week that I'm in, but I'm not
sustaining the work. And standing in regular shoes all day is
exacerbating the problem. If I wanted to build strength, I was going to
have to change. What she had in mind was unconventional, but it
undoubtedly works. If I was brave enough to do it.
Having assured her that I indeed was ready, she showed me pictures of
person after person with strong, well-defined calf muscles. All of them
were women. "Do you know why these women have such great calf muscles?"
She asked, rhetorically. "It's because they wear high heels all day.
High heels place a gentle and steady pressure on your calves. It's great
for building strength. And you can see the results."
"You want me to wear women's clothing?" I ask.
"Just the heels," Chrissy responded. "But you can wear dresses and
skirts, too, if you like."
"The heels are therapeutic. But I only want you to wear spike heels.
They will require you to balance more, and will put the right pressure on
your legs. Like the way free weights are better for overall muscle tone
than are the weight machines."
I felt strange about the whole thing, but I agreed to try for the weekend
at least. We finished the session and Chrissy took me out to a women's
shoe store. It was one of those self-serve stores with a very large
selection. In an hour, I learned the ins and outs of women's shoes. I
tried on about a dozen pair. ("Doctor's orders," she barked to any women
who showed an unusual interest in the guy trying on heels.) We decided on
a pair of black pumps with a 4 inch narrow spike heel. It was a "stacked
heel" and had a peep toe (terms that I just learned). Surprisingly, they
were very comfortable.
I wore the heels all day on Saturday and Sunday. I stayed in my apartment
all weekend, however, passing up the chance to go to a bar with my friends
on Saturday night. Per Chrissy's orders, I stood as much as possible all
weekend. Other than the balls of my feet hurting from the added pressure,
I did well. In fact, when Chrissy called on Sunday night, I told her that
my calves felt much better.
I didn't wear the heels to work on Monday, however. That turned out to be
a mistake. My calf muscles tightened back up right away. I was in pain
most of the day. (And, having been four inches higher for 48 hours, I
suddenly felt short.) So, Chrissy convinced me to wear my heels at work
the next day.
I went into the bank wearing my normal clothes. I asked for a meeting
with my supervisor before my shift. I explained my injury and Chrissy's
therapy of wearing high heels. Luckily, she (my supervisor) was very open
to it. "I don't care if you wear a tutu behind the counter. So long as
the customers don't see and you still do your job, go for it," she told
me.
I put my heels on for my shift. The women behind the counter teased me a
little, but it wasn't that bad. (The guys were more trouble but one
scolding from the supervisor quieted them really quickly.) On the third
day of wearing the black heels, one of my female co-workers confronted me
on a break.
"You can't wear the same shoes every day," she chided. "Women don't do
that. Moreover, you're wearing a peep toe shoe. Professional women get a
pedicure if their toes are going to show. Look at everyone else here."
My protests that I wasn't a woman and that I was only doing this
temporarily fell on deaf ears. So, after work, for the second time in a
week, I found myself in a shoe store buying high heels. Thanks to the
ladies, I purchased several colors to match with my outfits -- a nude, a
red and a sky blue in addition to my black pumps. To fix my toenail faux
pax, they took me to a nail salon to get a pedicure. I should have picked
a color when they asked me. The ladies picked for me, and chose the
brightest neon pink possible. They even got me to purchase the bottle, so
I could fix any chips that might occur.
After two weeks, I was pretty much out there to everyone, including
customers. I arrived and left wearing high heels instead of my male
loafers. I kept my toes polished, even re-doing the pedicure myself one
evening. (I didn't want to sit in the pedicure chair again.) My calf
muscles grew stronger each day. When I visited Chrissy one last time (in
heels), she told me that my calves were fully healed. "You can stop
wearing the spike heels," she told me, "unless, of course, you like them."
Chapped Lips
I have terrible trouble with chapped lips. Especially when it gets cold,
my lips dry out and get real rough. This winter was the worst ever. It
got so bad that my girlfriend didn't want to kiss me any longer. She
suggested that I go see a dermatologist for a prescription. I'm
unemployed at the moment, however (it's a bad economy, especially for new
college graduates like myself), so I don't have any medical insurance.
Visiting an actual doctor is out, as is paying for a prescription without
insurance.
My girlfriend suggested I see her older sister's ex-roommate, a woman
named Lisa. Lisa works as a receptionist in a dermatologist's office. We
meet at Lisa's apartment on Friday night. Lisa agrees that my lips are
terrible, and offers a solution.
"This stuff is the best. My doctor prescribes it all the time for chapped
lips. It works in about ten days. But it's really expensive, even with a
prescription."
"I have only this sample," she continued. "The manufacturer doesn't often
bring any samples, but he showed up this week and I was able to take one
before they got inventoried. Doctor Nelson inventories even the samples,
so I didn't dare try to take more than one. It's only a two day supply.
Maybe it will work fast enough."
I thanked Lisa for the sample. I took it right away. It made an
improvement, but two days wasn't enough. So we returned to Lisa's
apartment.
"Lisa, you have to get me another one. It's working well, but I need
more," I plead.
"I'm sorry, I can't get you any more." She replied. "I told you, Dr.
Nelson is a hard ass. He would fire me if he found out."
Dejected, I was about to give up. But then Lisa had another idea.
"I know of something that will help. But it's unconventional."
"Anything," I reply. My girlfriend, Annie, agrees. "Yes, I want to kiss
him so badly. We would take any help."
"This one brand of cosmetics uses the same ingredient in its women's
lipsticks." Lisa explained. "It won't work as fast, but if you wear that
lipstick, it probably would cure you. Maybe you can find a neutral shade
that no one would notice."
Apprehensive but desperate, I head off to the cosmetics store with Annie.
The lipstick is expensive, but I can scrape together enough for one tube
of it. Especially if no one can tell I'm wearing it.
We get to the store, but I'm not that lucky. The sales woman explains (to
Annie) that the line has become very popular. One of the hot actresses
wears the cosmetics, and she mentioned in an interview that the lipstick
had the same active ingredient as the dermatologist's prescription. Now
everyone wants to wear that brand, to moisten their lips. The store had
only one tube of that brand left -- in a classic red.
Annie tells the saleswoman that she doesn't ordinarily wear noticeable
makeup (which is true). Annie looks at me for my opinion. I tell her to
buy it.
We get back to the apartment and Annie paints my lips with the new
lipstick. She says I'll have to re-apply it every few hours, so she makes
me learn how to put it on myself. After a little bit of practice, I can
do it fairly well. (Great, I think. Another useless skill I've acquired.
Like my college degree.)
In solidarity that first day, Annie puts heavier-than-usual makeup on
herself and wears one of her own red lipsticks. I keep wearing the
lipstick for the next few days. I have it on all the time I'm in the
apartment, taking it off only for errands and when we go out to dinner.
The sight of me in red lipstick is still very odd. But it's working.
Mid-week, Lisa stops by our apartment to see how I'm doing. Lisa laughs
at the sight of me, a guy with short hair and two-day stubble, but wearing
bright red lipstick. Annie confesses to Lisa that it's really weird to
see me that way. It's even a bit of a turn off.
"The problem is that he's a man wearing makeup." Lisa suggests. "He's
only gone halfway, so you think of him as a goof. If you had him shave,
gave him a full makeover and a wig, I bet you would enjoy it more. He
would be attractive as a woman. And, if you have any latent curiosities,
you both might enjoy it. If you want, I'll show you how he looks." Annie
agreed. For what seemed like a half hour, Lisa did her magic on me. When
she was finished, I looked pretty, much to my own surprise.
Thanks to Lisa, I now spend most of my time dressed as a woman. I found a
job as a receptionist. I'm still not using my college degree, but I have
some money and decent clothes. I'm a loyal fan of that makeup brand. I
wear their lipstick every day. And my lips stay moist and beautiful.
Josephina
- 12.08.2021
- 21
- 0
