The Prescribed Procedure

Hi All,

I've come up with this shortie, when I should have been working on another story, or better yet, getting some sleep.

Hope you like it.

The Prescribed Procedure

By Rosie

“I’m sorry, Gerald,” Sarah turned to me, “But I’m really getting some hostile vibes from you today. Might I ask what this is all about?”

“Yes, you might,” I spat bitterly at my amazon daughter in law, “It is that we think you’re to blame that our son is now a woman.”

“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 blue 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.

“Well,” Sarah said, “It looks like you’ll have plenty of pretty dresses to wear from now on.”

“From now on?” I asked, panicking, “But I thought… I thought 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.

“Emily, dear?” I said, feeling tears trickle down my cheeks, “Would you please spank me on my panties?”

* * *

 I sat nervously in the waiting room, quietly rehearsing the lines Sarah had me memorize. Emily glanced impatiently at her watch.

“I’m not going to wait around much longer,” she said.

“Okay,” I replied weakly.

“I’ve got stuff to do,” 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, what seems to be your problem?” he said to me.

“I…” I began, feeling Sarah’s unforgiving gaze upon me, “Recently, I have tried on women’s clothing and I found them really comfortable.”

“I see,” he said, “That’s really not that uncommon, but you wouldn’t be here to see me just because you found women’s clothing comfortable, would you?”

I exhaled, but felt I had no option but to continue.

“I feel like they are more appropriate for me,” I said, “I feel that it is more appropriate for me to look like a woman.”

“And you have felt this way ever since you first tried women’s clothing?” he asked.

“Yes,” I nodded.

“And when was that?” he asked.

“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, 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?”

“Mr. and Ms. Davies are about to separate,” Sarah explained.

“Oh, I see,” he said.

“I am sure that Ms. Davies will be perfectly happy to let Mr. Davies continue wearing her old clothes,” she reassured him.

“In that case,” Dr. Daniels said, “Do you know already where you will live?”

“I am still looking for a place,” I said.

“You can stay with me,” Sarah said.

I turned to her in shock.

“What about…?” I began, “Wouldn’t that…”

“If you’re worried about Priscilla,” she smiled, “We, too, are also getting separated. She’s going back to live with her mother.”

“John is coming home?” I asked excitedly, “When?”

“It’s Priscilla,” Sarah said, “And just as we speak, actually.”

“That means…” I began.

“That means you can come home with me right away,” Sarah said, “We can stop at the mall so you can buy some pretty clothes.”

“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.”