And then he woke up, springing up in his bed, glad that it was all just a dream, but terrified that it didn’t seem more like a nightmare.
CHAPTER VI
Frank was dreading work that Saturday. Not only were Saturdays terribly busy—mostly with people who didn’t have real emergencies, just minor problems that they didn’t have time to have checked out during the week—but Frank knew he would have to see Erin again.
But thankfully she wasn’t there when he arrived for work. A glimmer of warm hope filled his body when he considered the possibility that she’d been released early or transferred to someone else’s wing. But he also felt strangely sad, as if he was missing out on something that he’d been looking forward to—even though he’d been dreading their confrontation. It was probably just a residual emotion from when he still thought that she was a woman—he’d gotten himself very excited while he was in her home, snooping around through her things.
Frank was tempted to ask his supervisor if Erin had been released, but he wasn’t sure how to ask without making her think that he was interested in Erin; that was the last thing he wanted. It took him a few minutes before he figured out the right way to ask. “Any returning patients today?” he asked casually.
“Just one,” his supervisor said.
And once again, he was too afraid to prod any further and raise suspicion. But he didn’t need to prod any further. He was called to another floor to help with a CT scan. So he made his way to the elevator and he pushed past a crowd of patients to get onto the first one. At least three different people coughed on him as he went by—but that was something he was used to. In the two years he’d been working at the hospital, he’d developed a powerful immune system—no amount of coughing could get him sick.
It was a stuffed elevator. There were very few people in that elevator that actually needed to be at the hospital. Saturdays notoriously attracted hypochondriacs—people who had a scratchy throat and they assumed that meant throat cancer. The Saturday crowd was also especially timid. Whenever someone so much as cleared their throat, they would all jump and cower, as if that person had the power to spread the AIDS virus by coughing.
Frank made his way towards the CT scan room. He walked in and then he froze two steps into the doorway when he saw Erin, in her hospital gown, getting ready to be sent through the CT scan machine. She looked at him for a brief second and then looked away quickly.
But Frank couldn’t figure out why Erin was so embarrassed around Frank. Was it the way he reacted when he discovered her cock? Or was she like that around everyone who knew her secret? If so, then what was her plan when she decided to become a transgender? Did she just hope that no one would ever find out?
“The machine’s motor is broken,” the CT scan operator said. “So I’m going to need you to push her in slowly for me while I watch the screen in the other room.”
That damned CT scan had been broken for months. Frank had wasted many hours in that small room, pushing patients through that small donut-shaped hole. It wouldn’t have been so bad if each patient didn’t take so long. One patient had to be pushed through a dozen times (and each time takes a good ten minutes) because she wouldn’t stop squirming; she was claustrophobic, and the donut hole was literally her worst nightmare.
“Just say when,” Frank said.
So the operator went into his little operator’s room and then his voice came through a speaker on the ceiling. “Okay, Ms. Brooks. You can move your eyes and you can speak, but you can’t move anything else, okay? Otherwise we’ll have to restart the whole scan.”
She nodded her head. “Got it,” she said. She looked at Frank for a moment, and now Frank was the one to look away quickly. He became suddenly flustered—as if she could tell that he’d masturbated to the thought of her just twelve hours before. But of course she couldn’t tell that—such a proposition was preposterous.
“Okay, Frank. Go ahead and start pushing her,” said the operator. He didn’t need to tell Frank how quickly to push because he’d already told him a dozen times over the past couple of months. Frank started to slowly push Erin through the machine. It was a heavy machine; he had to lean over Erin in order to make it move. It was almost impossible not to look at Erin—and the longer he avoided eye contact, the more awkward he was making the rest of his night. So he finally caved and looked down at her.
She was looking up at him, still too embarrassed to speak.
“So,” Frank said awkwardly. “Get a good sleep last night?”
“It was okay,” Erin said.
“Okay, stop there for a moment,” the operator said through the speaker in the ceiling. So Frank stopped pushing. But he kept his hands on the rolling bed’s handles.
“Yeah, those hospital beds aren’t the most comfortable beds in the world,” Frank said.
“I survived. Just a few more days—hopefully less than that,” Erin said.
And then the awkward silence returned. Erin looked away from Frank and Frank looked away from Erin. Frank couldn’t help but notice that Erin’s crotch was currently under the CT scan’s scanners. The operator was probably staring at a detailed image of her long member.
“I wish they would let me move around. I was told this morning that I wasn’t even allowed to flip myself over—apparently I need help if I want to roll onto my side,” Erin said, her eyes pointed at a random spot on the ceiling.
“It’s for the best,” Frank said. His eyes were on the floor.
“Okay, push her a little bit further. I’ll tell you when to stop. Okay, keep going, keep going… And stop,” said the operator. Now the operator was looking at her abdomen, where some of the internal damage apparently was. Now, Erin was looking at Frank again. “Do you hate me?” she asked.
“Hate you? Why would I hate you?” Frank asked. He looked into her eyes and saw that she really wasn’t kidding.
She stared at him with a blank look on her face. “I don’t know. You just got weird on me.”
“I didn’t get weird,” Frank said.
“You’re being weird right now.”
“I’m not being weird right now.”
“Yes you are,” she said. And then a silence took over the room. Frank knew that she was right—he did become awkward when he found out she had a cock. But why did she want him to admit it so badly? Why did she want him to acknowledge that she had a dick instead of a pussy? And why did he have to be okay with that? Was he not free to feel however he wanted to feel? “Just admit that you think I’m a weirdo,” she said.
“I don’t think you’re a weirdo. I just…” He didn’t finish that thought because he had no idea where that thought was going. But he certainly regretted starting that thought.
“You just what?” she asked, staring directly into his eyes.
His heart stammered. “I don’t know what I was going to say,” he said.
“Yes you do,” she said.
“I really don’t.”
“You just think it’s weird that I’ve got a dick and not a pussy,” she said.
Frank felt a rush of warmth fill his face. He tried not to squirm as he held the handles of the CT machine. The last thing he wanted was to have to restart the entire test because he accidentally nudged the machine a touch. “I don’t think that’s weird,” Frank said.
“Why not? It is weird—it’s obviously weird.”
“Okay, so maybe it’s a bit weird. So what?” Frank said.
“Okay, push the bed a little bit further. I’ll tell you when to stop. Keep going… Okay, stop,” said the CT scan operator.
There was another silence in the room. “I just wanted to make sure that I knew why you were being weird,” she said, and then that silence remained in the room for the rest of the CT scan. Luckily, they didn’t have to restart. The operator got everything he needed after fifteen minutes, and Frank was sent back to his wing, to meet his new patients for the night.
CHAPTER VII
Frank went from room to room, introducing
himself to his nightly patients. He was happy to see that almost every room was occupied, so he wouldn’t have to awkwardly linger around Erin’s room all night. He would always have an excuse to leave her room as quickly as possible.
It was the young woman in room four who caught his attention. She was a petite blonde with long braids and tits that were way too big for her small body. She looked like she belonged stuffed into a dirndl, holding two large glass mugs full of frothy beer.
“My name’s Linda Lou—You can call me Lindy,” she said, before Frank had a chance to say anything. “I’m from Tennessee—not too far from Dolly Parton’s house, in case you’re interested.” It was hard for Frank to get a word in. The girl loved to talk—she probably loved hearing her own voice. Frank was surprised to see on her chart that she was being monitored after a complicated breast reduction surgery. He looked over the chart at her large rack. These were smaller? How big were they before?
“I’m Frank. I’ll be your nurse for the night,” Frank said. And before he could say anymore, Linda Lou started telling him about a cookie recipe that she’d been meaning to try out. And it wasn’t long after that when she started talking about sports. “Do you like football? A handsome man like you—I bet you like football. Am I wrong?”
“I don’t really have time to watch,” Frank said.
“Well you’ve got to make time—for your own sanity. You can’t just go around working all the time.”
Linda Lou had a big mouth, but she was cute—and she was the perfect distraction from Erin. If Frank wanted to pull his mind away from the thought of Erin’s long, smooth cock, all he had to do was walk into Linda Lou’s room and she would give him five-hundred different topics to think about—though none of it was terribly profound. She liked to talk about her hometown, her favourite football team, and what she planned on cooking for dinner over the next few weeks. But any distraction was a good distraction.
But Linda Lou couldn’t distract Frank from his newly assigned task. “I need you to sponge the girl in room two,” said Frank’s supervisor. And the girl in room two was Erin. The hospital had a policy: every patient needs to be bathed once every fifty-two hours, and a nurse needs to perform the bathing if the patient is unable to do so by themselves.
Frank’s heart was pounding, even though he’d bathed hundreds, if not thousands of patients before Erin—male and female. But even when he first started working at the hospital and he was assigned his first patient, his heart never pounded like it was pounding now. He took a deep breath as he gathered the sponge, soap, and bowl from the supply closet. His legs started trembling as he filled the bowl with warm water. And then he became lightheaded as he stepped into Erin’s room, closing the curtain behind him.
“What’s all that?” Erin said, looking up from her iPad.
“Hospital policy,” Frank said. His voice cracked slightly. “Every three days, patients need to be bathed.”
“Can’t I refuse?” she said.
Frank stood quietly near the door for a moment. “I don’t know. No one’s ever refused before.”
“Would you get into trouble if I refused?” she asked.
Frank shrugged his shoulders. He thought about it: Would he get into trouble? His supervisor probably wouldn’t be thrilled to hear that she refused. She wasn’t smelly or anything, but she was potentially going to be stuck in that bed for another few days—so it was only downhill from here. Frank was half-hoping that she would refuse the bath, and he was slightly disappointed when she didn’t refuse as he started to walk towards her. He cleared his throat and said, “It will only take a few minutes.”
He placed the bowl down on the table next to her. “Do you mind if I, uh, take off your gown?”
“I guess you have to do what you have to do,” she said.
Frank’s hands were trembling as he gently pulled back Erin’s hospital gown. As soon as her bare chest was visible, his heart began to stammer and stutter. He could feel beads of cold sweat tickling the back of his neck. He pulled the gown down further, pulling it over her crotch, slowly revealing her long, flaccid cock. He tried not to look at it, but it was always there, teasing his peripheral vision.
He grabbed the sponge and got it soaked with warm, soapy water. He squeezed it out and then he held up one of Erin’s arms—he was taught to always start with the arms, move to the torso, and then the crotch. The idea was to start with something harmless and then get the private areas out of the way quickly so the patient didn’t feel too humiliated for too long. But Frank didn’t follow the protocol. Once he was done her arms, he found himself gently wiping her face, and then her stomach. He looked at her perky tits—he could do the tits… They looked like real breasts, so it didn’t seem too terribly awkward.
He ran the sponge over her rack. He watched as her breasts gently wobbled in place. Her nipples were tall and hard. Frank squirmed. He didn’t want to spend too long with her breasts, but he didn’t want to finish too quickly and make her think that he was uncomfortable, even though it was terribly obvious on his face, and he knew it.
But he couldn’t believe her breasts. They didn’t feel fake. They were soft and bouncy like real breasts, and there were no visible scars… Was it possible that the breasts developed from the use of hormone replacement therapy?
“I think my tits are clean,” she said after a moment. And Frank snapped back to reality. He’d zoned out while rubbing her soft chest. He quickly pulled his hands away and he dipped the sponge back into the bowl.
“Sorry—I guess I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” he said with dark red cheeks. He squeezed the sponge and brought it back to her legs. He gently lifted her legs up while he ran the sponge up and down. As he came up her thighs, his fingers came awfully close to her cock, which was hanging down perfectly between her thighs. It was a big cock—especially big considering she was a woman. Frank bit down on the edge of his tongue as he tried not to look at it—but it was so close now. How could he not look at it? What else was he supposed to look at?
“Almost done,” he said.
There was only her cock left. He knew he just had to get it over with, but he was strangely terrified—though he wasn’t sure why he was so terrified. He’d cleaned many cocks before and he’d successfully managed to feel nothing, as if he was cleaning any other part of the person’s body. But somehow this felt different. “This will just take one second,” he said.
He slipped a hand underneath her package and he gently lifted it up so that he could run his soapy sponge around her junk. Her cock was warm and he could feel it throbbing. It was protocol not to use the sponge on the actual penis, as the sponge is a bit irritating to most people. It was standard to squirt some soap into the hand and clean the phallus manually, so that’s what Frank did. With a handful of soap and warm water, he began to massage the feminine cock. He could still feel it throbbing—and he couldn’t help but notice that it had gotten bigger and harder.
But he wasn’t done. He still needed to get the soap off. So he scooped another handful of warm water and he did a second tour around the cock, running his fingers under her ball sack and down her shaft. And she was harder again. Now her cock was beginning to direct itself upwards, towards her abdomen. She was becoming erect from Frank’s cleaning.
And she wasn’t the only one. Frank could feel his own cock pressing tightly against the thin fabric of his cotton underwear. Massaging the cock felt strangely arousing. His heart was pounding and now he felt himself full of terror and confusion: he was enjoying the process, which was exactly what he was afraid of.
“Okay, all done,” he said, pulling his hand away.
Erin’s face was dark red. She was almost certainly humiliated, seeing as she’d just gotten an erection in front of her nurse. Her lips parted slightly and then she finally pushed the words out. “Are you sure? It still feels a bit dirty.”
Frank cleared his throat and he looked down at the impeccably clean cock. “Maybe it could use a once over,” he sa
id, his heart stammering and coughing. So he scooped up a bit more warm soapy water and he grabbed her cock again, this time holding a bit more firmly as he ran his fingers up and down her shaft. He watched as he pulled back her foreskin. He could see her veins pulsing, filling her cock with as much blood as it could hold. She was rock-hard now, and she probably wasn’t too far away from coming.
“The tip feels especially dirty,” she said. So Frank moved his grip towards her tip. He jerked and massaged while her tip became redder and redder.
“Is that helping?” he asked.
“I think so,” she said, and then she let out a soft moan. Her cock was huge, standing tall, nine inches in the air. Frank couldn’t pull his gaze away from the mesmerizing sight: his hand massaging the tip of her impressive fleshy tower. Her tip was amazingly smooth and bulbous. He loved the way it shined, glistening with a mixture of warm water and pre-cum. “I think you’re almost done,” she said with a tense voice. So Frank massaged faster. He used his free hand to stroke her shaft—mostly just so he could feel her warm, throbbing veins again.
Erin was looking into Frank’s eyes. So Frank looked into her eyes, and then he couldn’t look away. She was stunning. Her eyes were sparkling and beautiful. She looked so cute with her red cheeks.
“My ass is still a bit dirty, too,” she said. So Frank took a hand and brought it down. He pressed two fingers into her butthole while he continued to massage her shaft. “Oh God,” he groaned. She finally closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Her whole body became tense and she started to squirm all over. “You’re so close,” she said.
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