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Prescribed Procedure free porn video
The Prescribed Procedure
By Rosie
The audacity of that woman shocked me. After all she had put him
through, she was now telling us that she was divorcing our son. The only
good thing about this was that she would not be my daughter in law for
much longer.
"You've got some nerve," I said.
"I thought you would appreciate me giving you the news in person," Sarah
said, "But I see I was mistaken."
"So you're just getting divorced," I spat bitterly at my amazon daughter
in law, "After what he has gone through for you."
I could tell my use of the pronoun disturbed her.
"Just exactly what has he gone through for me?" she asked angrily.
"You know what I'm talking about," I said.
"No, Gerald," she said icily to me, "as a matter of fact, I don't. Would
you mind explaining it to me?"
I took a step back, away from her angry gaze and her menacing, powerful
figure. With the corner of my eye, I could see my wife standing by.
"I'm talking about that," I said, "it is that we think you're to blame
that our son is now a woman. And now that you've turned him into a
woman, you're just leaving him like that."
"Gerald," my wife hissed.
"Well, what, Emily?" I said defensively. "We've talked about this."
"We haven't said that," she said, almost apologizing to Sarah.
"All I know is," I said, "before he married Sarah, he never showed no
sign that he wanted to be a woman."
"Well, how would you know?" Sarah said back.
"Because he didn't want to become a woman, that's how," I retorted.
"He couldn't know until he tried," she replied, looking at me
challengingly.
I looked her right back in the eye, until I felt my wife tug at my hand.
"Gerald," she said softly.
Suddenly, I felt grateful for an excuse to look away from Sarah's
determined gaze.
"Look," Emily said, with a calming tone, "all we're saying is that we
find it strange John turned into a woman so suddenly. I mean, he was
never like that."
"Like I said," Sarah replied, "sometimes it takes a little bit of
digging."
"More like pushing, if you ask me," I muttered.
"Gerald," Emily hissed at me again, this time genuinely angry.
"How can you be sure you're not like that, too, Gerald?" Sarah said to
me.
"Huh?" I said back.
"Ever tried dressing up as a woman, to see how it feels?" she continued,
"After all, maybe these things are hereditary."
I looked away from her in disgust.
"If I turned your son into a woman," she said, "aren't you worried I
might do the same to you?"
I kept my gaze on the floor, just wishing she would go home already.
"Gerald!" she said. "Answer me!"
Warily, I looked at her.
"No," I said quietly.
"No what?" she said. "No, you're not afraid I'll turn you into a woman,
or no, you haven't dressed up as a woman before?"
"Both," I replied, "I mean, neither."
"Why not?" she asked. "Why do you think I couldn't?"
"Because..." I began.
"Because you're a man, right?" she said.
"Yes," I nodded, "that's right."
"You're a manly man," she said, "as manly as they come."
"I don't know about that," I said, "but I do know I am a man."
"Then you won't mind putting on a dress," she said, "if you're as manly
as you say you are, it won't turn you into a woman like it did with
John."
"No," I said, "I'm not putting on no dress."
"Oh, but I really think you should," Sarah persisted, "I think that you
should, right now, go and put on one of your wife's dresses."
"Well I think you should leave," I said.
"I'm not leaving till I've seen you in a dress," she retorted.
"I guess you'll just have to," I said, though suddenly feeling much less
sure of myself as she took a menacing step towards me.
"Gerald," she said, "if you don't do it, I will make you do it."
"Oh yeah," I said. "How?"
As I felt another tug on my hand, I turned to see my wife's worried
face, but before I could reassure her with a wink and a smile, Sarah
pulled my head towards her with her hand.
"I'll fight you," she said, "and then, when I beat you, I'll make you
wear a dress."
I swallowed hard and looked at her, tilting my head backwards.
"Who do you think would win?" she asked. "If the two of us fought?"
"That's not fair," I moaned.
"I'm not asking if it's fair," she said, "I'm asking you if you think
you can beat me in a fight."
"No," I admitted.
"Why not?" she asked. "I thought you were the manly man."
"You're bigger than me," I said through my teeth, "probably stronger.
Younger, too."
"There's no shame in losing a fight, is there?" she asked. "No one would
think you're any less of a man if you get beat after putting up a fair
fight, even if you get beat by a woman."
"I guess not," I said.
"And if you wear a dress because you're made to wear one?" she said. "If
a woman, stronger than you, makes you wear a dress, that doesn't make
you any less of a man, does it?"
"I guess not?" I said warily.
"Now, if you know in advance you're going to get beat," she continued.
"Why not save yourself the trouble and put a dress on right away?"
"Please, Sarah, I don't want to fight," I moaned weakly.
"Neither do I," she said, "I will if I have to, but I'd really prefer
not to. So tell you what, I'll make you a deal, okay?"
"Okay," I said.
"If you go on and put on a dress all by yourself, I promise I won't
fight you," she said.
"You promise?" I repeated.
"Yes sir," she nodded.
"Well, in that case..." I began.
"Of course, in that case," she said, "in that case you'd be putting on a
dress because you'd be too scared to fight a woman. Now, that doesn't
sound too manly too me."
"What do you want me to do?" I wailed.
"I want you to put on a dress," she said and reached towards my shoulder
with her hand.
"Emily, help me!" I shrieked as I pulled away, grabbing her hand.
"Hiding behind your wife, Gerald?" Sarah said. "Now that is real manly."
Emily made no attempt to hide her disgust as she looked at me.
"I don't think we need to worry about preserving your manhood anymore,
do we?" Sarah said.
"No," I repented.
"Then why don't you ask your wife nicely if she would be so kind to lend
you a dress," Sarah said.
"Do I have to?" I moaned.
"Of course not," she replied, "I'll be happy to do it for you, after
I've whooped your ass in a fight."
"Emily, honey?" I turned to my wife, fighting tears of shame. "Could you
lend me a dress?"
"Of course, Gerald," my wife said coldly, "take any dress you like."
"Ask for lingerie, too," Sarah said.
"Lingerie?" I moaned.
"Can't wear a dress without a pretty bra and panties," Sarah replied
matter-of-factly, "and nylons, too."
"May I also borrow some lingerie?" I asked my wife.
"Sure, honey," she replied, "You can borrow whatever you want."
"Gerald!" Sarah cried happily when I came to the living room, now
wearing Emily's full skirted, button down blue polka dot dress, over a
white bra and panties set, tan pantyhose and white teddies.
"What a pretty dress you picked!" she cooed as she hugged me. "It looks
really nice on you."
I stared blankly at her, not sure what was going on.
"Aren't you going to thank me for complimenting your dress, Gerald?" she
mused.
"Thank you?" I said warily.
"You're very welcome," she said, "but do you think you could thank me
properly?"
"Properly?" I asked.
"Well, yes," she said, "usually when someone gets all dressed up as
nicely as you have, the proper way to repay a compliment is to put one
foot before the other, pluck at the skirts of your dress then smile
prettily and bend your legs at the knees. You think you could do that
for me?"
I paused for a second, then did as she told me to and curtsied.
"Marvelous!" she said and hugged me again. Then, still hugging me by my
shoulder, she led me to the sofa and sat me down next to her, facing
Emily.
"Tell me, Gerald," she said, "did you pick this dress right away, or did
you see any other dresses you liked?"
"I guess there was one or two," I said.
"Really?" Sarah said. "What were they like?"
"One was green, but similar to this one," I said.
"So why did you chose the blue one?" Sarah asked.
"I tried the green one first, but I couldn't close the zipper," I
confessed.
"Oh, those pesky zippers," Sarah said. "What about the second one?"
"It was white with red flowers at the hem," I said.
"Did you struggle with the zipper, too?" Sarah asked.
"No, it didn't have a zipper," I said.
"Why didn't you wear that one, then?" Sarah wondered.
"It was too short," I said, remembering how I awkwardly tried to smooth
down the hem to at least make it seem like it was trying to reach my
knees.
Sarah smiled politely at me, then turned back to Emily, and resumed
their conversation about our plans to remodel the kitchen. Silently, I
sat on the empty seat beside Sarah and followed their conversation.
Except for the few questions Sarah had asked me, neither seemed to be
the least interested in the fact I was wearing a dress.
"Gerald, honey?" Emily said to me. "Could you fetch the catalogues from
the study?"
"Sure," I said, grateful for the opportunity to get away, and to change
back in my clothes.
"The study, Gerald," Emily called after me, "they're not the bedroom."
I saw Sarah's gaze upon me. Defeated, I let go off the bedroom door and
went to the study, the skirt of my dress fluttering about my legs.
"Thank you," Emily said, then opened one of them at the page she had
marked with a post it and showed it to Sarah.
"This is what we'll go with," she said, showing her the style she had
set her eyes upon, despite my protests.
"Nice," Sarah said.
"Actually, honey?" I said. "I thought we were still choosing between
this one and the other one?"
Emily looked at me.
"I think it's time we decided," she said, "I would like to go with this
one. Do you have any objection?"
I felt her challenging gaze look at me from top to bottom and back. I
bowed my head in shame.
"No, dear," I said weakly.
"Great," she said, "then it's settled."
"Should I take the catalogues back to the study?" I asked.
"No, sit beside us," Sarah said, "we've made tea, if you'd like some."
Obediently, I settled back in my place, sipped tea and listened to their
conversation. At some point, Sarah asked me why I had preferred the
other option and then, dismantled my argument point by point until I had
to concede that Emily's choice was the only sensible one.
"Thank you for being reasonable for the first time," Emily said, not
altogether mockingly.
"Thank you both for a lovely evening," Sarah said, "I really didn't
expect to stay that long, but it's time I should go."
I felt a surge of both relief and unease at the thought of the departure
of this commanding force from our house.
"Before I go, however," she said, turning to me, "we need to talk about
you."
"Me?" I asked feebly.
"Yes." she said, "How do you feel, wearing a dress?"
"Um... Strange?" I replied.
"Of course, this is all new to you," she said, "but the dress itself.
Does it feel comfortable?"
"Yes, I suppose," I admitted.
"And do you feel like a woman for wearing it?" she said.
"I... I don't know," I said. "I mean, no, I don't."
"So putting on a dress didn't make you a woman, is that what you're
saying?" she said.
"Yes," I nodded.
"Would you then say it's possible to turn a man into a woman just by
forcing him to dress like one?" she said.
"No, I suppose not," I muttered.
"Well, then I suppose you owe me an apology," she said.
"I'm sorry," I said, "I apologize."
"No, no," she said, "this won't do. You were quite vocal in your
accusations that I turned your son into a woman, I think you should
apologize properly."
"Properly?" I asked.
"Just like you thanked me properly before," she said.
With my face burning with humiliation, I got off the sofa, then turned
to face her.
"I apologize for accusing you of turning our son into a woman," I said
and dropped a deep curtsey.
"Apology accepted," she chimed. "Now, as far as your own feelings are
concerned..."
"My feelings?" I asked.
"Your feelings, yes," she repeated. "Now, you said you don't feel like a
woman after wearing a dress for the evening, but how can you tell?"
"I just know...?" I said.
"How can you?" she said, "You've been living and dressing as a man for
your whole lifetime, and now, you have experienced something completely
new. You will need professional help in understanding your feelings."
"Help?" I asked.
"I will schedule an appointment with a specialist," she said. "Can you
promise that you will be there?"
"Yes," I said weakly.
"And how do you think you should dress until then?" she asked me.
"I..." I stuttered.
"How do you feel you should dress until then?" she said.
"Until the appointment?" I asked.
"Yes," she replied.
"But I thought..." I said, panicking, "I thought that this was just a
test. I don't feel like a woman, really, I don't."
"Gerald," she said to me, "let me ask you this way, do you feel manly
right now?"
"Not really," I admitted.
"Do you feel manlier than me?" she asked.
"No, Sarah," I said.
"Is that why you're wearing this dress?" she asked.
"Yes," I said.
"Or," she said, "is it the other way around? Are you wearing the dress
because you feel less manly than me?"
"Yes? No?" I said. "I don't know, really."
"It doesn't matter," she smiled. "Tell me this, do you feel manlier than
your wife?"
I looked at Emily with a pleading expression, hoping that she would
somehow still concede to my masculine status.
"Hold on," Emily said, "I can see what you're getting at. I won't say
that I completely disagree with you, but I'm not going to continue your
bullying when you're gone."
"Nothing like that is needed," Sarah said, then turned to me. "Gerald?
Answer my question. Do you feel manlier than your wife?"
"I... I suppose..." I said.
"In that case, you won't mind draping yourself over her knees for a
little spanking, will you?" Sarah said.
I felt my head swirl.
"Please, don't," I said weakly.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not going to spank my husband," Emily said,
indignant.
"That's a shame," Sarah said, "because either you get a spanking from
your wife, or we do the fight that I have promised you before. Which
would you prefer?"
"The spanking?" I said weakly.
"I said no," Emily said.
"Looks like it's you and me, then," Sarah said to me.
"No!" I wailed. "It's not my fault Emily doesn't want to spank me."
"You're the man of the house, aren't you?" Sarah said. "Then you won't
have a problem getting your wife to spank you, on your pretty panties,
will you?"
"Please, Emily?" I said weakly. "Otherwise she'll really hurt me."
My wife stared at me in disbelief.
"Ask nicely," Sarah said, "and properly."
With tears of shame trickling down my cheeks, I stood up to face my
wife.
"Emily, dear?" I said, dropping a deep curtsey. "Would you please spank
me on my panties?"
"Yes, Gerald," she said, not masking her disappointment. "Yes, I will
spank you."
I draped myself over her knees and whimpered as I felt her raise the
skirt of my dress over my waist. I shrieked when the first sharp blow
landed on my satin clad behind, kicked my legs and waved my arms, but I
could not stop the second blow. Then, I started weeping in earnest.
* * *
I sat nervously in the waiting room, quietly rehearsing my case for the
specialist Sarah had booked for me. Emily glanced impatiently at her
watch.
"This shouldn't take too long," I said.
"Sure, honey," she said.
"I mean, we'll probably have a little conversation," I speculated. "The
specialist will confirm I'm not a wo-"
Suddenly, I heard footsteps reverberate the hallway and I stopped
myself. Frantically, I looked around, only to find no one was there.
"The specialist will confirm I'm not an woman," I said to Emily in a
quiet voice, "and then everything's back to normal, right?"
"Of course, Veronica," she replied.
I jolted when I saw a nurse pass us by silently, and suddenly felt
grateful to my wife for using my female name. She glanced at her watch
again.
"I'll really have to go, they're coming to install the kitchen any time
now," she said.
"Okay," I replied weakly.
"You'll have to take the bus back home," she said, looking through her
handbag.
Just then, the door opened.
"Davies?" a voice called out.
Hearing my last name, I gave my wife a peck on the cheek and went to the
doctor's office.
"Hi, I'm doctor Robert Daniels," the elderly, white clad figure said,
"Please, come in."
As he shut the door behind me, I suddenly noticed Sarah was in the room,
too.
"I trust you've met Ms. Brown," he said.
"I..." I stuttered. "Yes, I have."
"Of course you have," he smiled, "that's why you were lucky to get such
a quick referral. Usually, the waiting time is a bit longer. Please, sit
down."
I did as he said.
"Now, from what I understand," he began slowly, "is that you have
recently started to wear women's clothes, and you are not sure what to
make of your new emotions and feelings."
"Actually, I..." I began, but he stopped me.
"Please, let me tell you up front that were it not for Ms. Brown's
referral," he began, "I would be very wary to take on a case like yours.
It happens all too often that these cases take years and don't go
anywhere in the end. However, with Ms. Brown's help, our track record
has been somewhat better, so it's a risk I'm willing to take."
I looked blankly as Sarah, then again at Dr. Daniels.
"You have tried on women's clothing," he repeated slowly, "and then
something moved in you. Right?"
"I suppose," I replied.
"You suppose," he repeated again. "Now, when was it that you first put
on women's clothes?"
"About a week ago," I replied.
"And you have been wearing women's clothes ever since?" he continued.
"Yes," I admitted.
"Are these your own clothes you're wearing right now?" he asked.
"They're my wife's," I said blushingly, "except for the shoes."
"Right," he said, "So your wife helps you with your clothes."
"She also helps me with my makeup," I said, "and my hair."
"Right," Dr. Daniels said, then opened a folder.
"Veronica, is it?" he said.
"I beg your pardon?" I said.
"I mean, Ms. Davies," he corrected himself, "or is it Mr. Davies, I
don't know, help me out here, please?"
"Officially, it is still Mr. Gerald Davies," Sarah replied with a smile.
"Well then," Dr. Daniels said, "if you prefer, I can call you Veronica
regardless, what I want to say is this."
He shuffled his folder for a bit more.
"Sometimes, something can happen in one's life that makes us see things
completely differently," he began, "A man, like you or me, puts on
women's clothing and realizes he wants to live as a woman from then on.
Something like that hits you all of the sudden, by pure coincidence, and
it changes your life forever. Now, I'm not saying what happened in your
case, and a week is usually a very short time, but on Ms. Brown's
recommendation, I am confident we can already reach a conclusion. You
see, Ms. Brown has been working with me in such cases before, and I
suppose I could say she has a nose for it. I'm not saying that you will
want to become a woman, but it is reason enough for a thorough
evaluation."
"If I may say something," I said, looking warily at Sarah with the
corner of my eye.
"Sure," he said.
"The first time I put on a dress," I said, "it wasn't voluntarily."
"Oh?" Dr. Daniels said.
"No," I confirmed, "in fact, I was forced to do so."
"I see," he said and scribbled something in the file. I could feel a
wave of relief washing over me.
"Well, see here, Mr. Davies," he began, "I mean, Veronica. These things
come in all shapes and sizes. Some men do it out of curiosity. Some men
do it for a bet. You did it, as you say, because you were forced to. Why
you first dressed up as a woman doesn't really matter. What matters is
that you keep on doing it."
"Actually, that is not entirely voluntarily either," I said.
"It's not?" he said.
"I was..." I began, "I was... obliged... to continue wearing my wife's
clothes until our appointment."
"Obliged?" he said. "May I ask, by whom?"
"By Ms. Brown," I said, then lowered my voice. "And my wife."
"Were you also obliged to use makeup?" he asked.
"No," I admitted.
"Were you obliged to use a female name?" he continued.
"No," I said.
"Well, there you go," he said, "you are obliged to wear women's
clothing, but you choose to appear as a woman voluntarily."
"But I don't have a choice," I protested, "otherwise, I'll look like a
man in women's clothes."
"So you're saying you're more comfortable as a woman, then?" he said.
I looked stupidly at him, then at Sarah.
He smiled at me.
"Ms. Brown's methods may appear extreme sometimes," she said, "but she
does have a knack for getting to the bottom of things."
"Actually, about that..." I tried to say, but Sarah placed a hand on my
arm.
"Let Dr. Daniels finish," she said.
"Thank you, Sarah," he said, then turned to me. "Sarah, I mean Ms. Brown
has really been a great deal of help here, I don't know what I would do
without her. I'm certainly not an expert in these cases, but as long as
she is involved, you can rest assured you will get the quickest
treatment possible. Of course, we follow the prescribed procedures, but
in the last ten, heck, fifteen cases, it has always turned out that she
was a step ahead."
"We have a good history of collaboration," Sarah smiled.
"Now, Mr. Davies, back to you," Dr. Daniels said. "Of course, as much as
I trust Ms. Brown's recommendation, I have no choice but to follow the
prescribed medical procedures. I hope you're not too disappointed we
can't turn you into a woman just yet."
"No, no," I said, "In fact..."
Sarah silenced me with her hand, again.
"What I propose in such cases is that the patient starts, or in your
case, continues to live as a woman," he said, "For a certain amount of
time. A year or so, so that we can make sure if his desire to become a
woman is indeed true."
"Now, I understand in your case, that will not be a problem," he said.
"Yes," I said, "I mean, no," I corrected myself, "I mean, why?"
"You are wearing your wife's clothes, is that correct?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, "But..."
"Well, that makes it easier at the beginning, if you don't have to buy a
whole wardrobe," he said, "and you also said your wife helps you with
your makeup and your hair?"
"Yes," I admitted.
"Well, of course the first thing you'll need to do is to learn to do
these things by yourself," he said. "But it's a start."
He scribbled something in his notebook.
"Now, Mr. Davies," he said, "are you employed?"
"I'm a freelancer," I said.
"Can you afford some time off work?" he asked. "Of course, we like it if
our patients are working because it helps them get on their feet and in
touch with the world, but at the same time, it's also beneficial if you
can focus on your transition in the first stages."
"Mr. Davies can apply for support," Sarah said.
"Oh, right," Dr. Daniels said. "Thank you for reminding me. There is a
pilot program for financial support during the transition. Basically,
you get money so you can afford to take time off work. I have found this
to be of immense help, mostly."
"I have the form right here," Sarah said, sliding a paper form across
the desk.
"Marvelous," Dr. Daniels said. "Now, the program requires that you have
a sponsor during your transition. I think your wife would be a suitable
candidate, seeing how she is helping you with your appearance."
He mused, "Not to mention your obligation."
"Actually," Sarah said, "I would gladly be Mr. Davies' sponsor. In fact,
I would even propose that he moves in me for the time being."
"Fantastic!" Dr. Daniels exclaimed, clapping his hands.
"Seeing how Priscilla is moving back home, it will give Ms. Davies the
opportunity to spend time with her daughter," she said.
"Wait a minute," Dr. Daniels said, "I thought I recognized the name."
"Yes," Sarah smiled, "Priscilla is the child of Mr. and Ms. Davies."
"Another satisfied customer," he said. "When does this come into
effect?"
"Right now," Sarah replied, "as we speak, Ms. Davies is picking up
Priscilla from my house, and I will take Mr. Davies home with me after
we're done here."
"Well," she said, turning to me, "we can stop at the mall so you can buy
some pretty clothes with your first transition support check."
"Fantastic," Dr. Daniels said. "Now that this has been arranged, let's
talk about procedures."
"Procedures?" I asked worriedly.
"Hormone treatment," Dr. Daniels said, "maybe even some minor surgery,
but it's too early to talk about that."
"But I thought that only comes after this test period," I said, "I mean,
shouldn't we make sure I actually want to become a woman, before you
start turning me into one?"
Dr. Daniels smiled.
"That's exactly what I used to think, too," he said, "but then Ms. Brown
pointed out the error for me. How can you live like a woman, if you
don't look like a woman?"
I stared blankly at him.
"Now, I don't want to say you yourself look like a man right now," he
said, "but you will nevertheless agree that every single thing helps.
Let me see your hand."
He examined my hand under the billowy, diaphanous sleeve of my wife's
blouse.
"I'd say you're halfway there already," he said. "Still..."
Before I knew it, I felt a sting in my upper arm.
"You will find you don't have to shave so much," he winked at me. "All
over."
"Was that....?" I tried to ask.
"A booster shot of estrogen," Sarah replied. "We'll come for a follow up
in a week."
"In the meantime," Dr. Daniels said, "your skin will become softer, you
might notice some swelling around your nipples, maybe some mood swings.
As I've said, I would usually wait with this treatment, but seeing how
you will have Ms. Brown to help you, I see no reason not to delay it."
"Mr. Davies," he said solemnly, "you are in good hands. I am fully
confident that Ms. Brown will help you deal with any obstacle along your
path and, to put it this way, I'm sure I won't be referring to you as
Mr. Davies much longer."
"Sarah?" He turned to her. "I don't know how to thank you. Ever since
you came along, my stats have been amazing. With Mr. Davies here on the
fast tract, they will be even more outstanding."
"Oh, I should be thanking you, Robert," she smiled back. "After all,
with Priscilla moving out, I need a new toy to keep me busy."
"Well," she turned to me, "Veronica? Coming along?"
I looked at her in turmoil, wondering how I could get word to my wife to
pick me up and save me from Sarah. Suddenly, it dawned on me that she
had been in on this all along. Why else would she insist that I wore the
full, floral print skirt, even though the tight, knee length pink satin
one I had chosen was a far better fit for my blouse?
I straightened myself up on my three inch heels, then placed one foot in
front of the other.
"Coming," I said, then effortlessly plucked at the loose fabric of my
skirt to curtsey my sponsor.
Grace
- 18.07.2022
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