Prescription for BlossomingbyYKN4949©
Chapter 1: A Prescription
I was sitting at my desk in Dr. Calloway's office and I could feel the eyes of the men, and a few of the women, on me as I updated patient charts and made notes on my Sudoku puzzle. I hated the feeling of sitting here at the reception desk and knowing that people are fantasizing about me. I want to be completely honest with you. I wish what I was saying was vain and that I was imagining things. But I think I would be happier as an old maid that no one gave a second thought about. Instead, I sit at the front of the office, behind a small desk and I feel a little too much like a piece of meat.
I am very small at 5'1 and weigh no more than 100lbs. I have long black hair and my Indian mother's coffee skin. I have large brown eyes, a small upturned nose, and what Dr. Calloway says is a gorgeous smile. If I am forced to describe my favorite feature I would say it would have to be my thick, full lips which are pink despite my fear of painting them. I have small breasts that looked large on my small frame and I wear a 32-A bra. My stomach is flat and my hips flared out to a decent degree. Like my stomach, my butt is toned from exercise and I absolutely hate it when men look at it. I exercise because Dr. Calloway says that I should. Sometimes I just feel like it would be easier to be gigantically fat. But no such luck. I have fit legs that I often hide behind a long skirt. On this particular day I was wearing a white skirt and a blue t-shirt.
I was deeply regretting my decision on this shirt. It was a gift from Dr. Calloway and it was a bit tighter than the clothes I usually wore. Usually I wear big, roomy sweaters. I also wore an old, worn bra and I was certain that my nipples were poking through my shirt and that the people in the waiting room were staring at them. I crossed my arms in front of me and tried to ignore the world. I couldn't wait until 4:30 rolled around and I could go back to my apartment and be alone for the weekend. I guess I can't explain why I am the way I am, I just know that I can't imagine being like the other people I see. I feel so awkward around new people and I can't imagine the comfort other people so easily project. I mean, I worked in Dr. Calloway's office from the time she performed a procedure on me when I was 18. That was 3 years ago and I just started to feel like she was a friend that I could trust.
Even while I considered this, a young man walked into the office and stopped at the reception desk. He took a moment and looked at me and I could feel my cheeks getting hot. He flashed me a smile and it made my skin crawl.
"Hey there..." he started and then looked at my chest and found my nametag, "Iris Moore. I have an appointment with the doctor for a consultation."
"Oh," I said, feeling anxious, "Um. What is your name sir?"
"Don't call me sir, Iris."
"Don't be sorry, just call me J.J."
"J.J. Stempfer?" I asked looking down at my list of appointments.
"That's me," he said, looking down at the list proudly. He certainly thought that he impressed me with his laid back attitude and easy smile, but I felt like screaming. It wasn't particular to him; that's the way I felt when anyone lingered at my desk for more than a couple of minutes . "Okay, you are set," I said and motioned towards the chairs.
"Thanks," he said and turned and looked at the chairs and then turned back at me, "So when I get out of here, want me to take you to lunch?" I felt my stomach drop into my knees.
"Oh...no...I...uh...I am not allowed," I eventually stammered out. He smiled at me and turned to walk back to the chairs.
"If you change your mind, let me know," he said and then coolly grabbed a Sports Illustrated and sat down. I breathed for the first time and looked back to my charts. Before I got too far and voice called to me . "Iris, can you come back here," Dr. Calloway said and I turned and she was right behind me, looking a bit upset and I knew she watched the whole thing unfold. Dr. Calloway was an older woman with a stern demeanor. She was my employer and friend, and in many ways she was my mother. My actual mother and I don't speak and we have not for a very long time. I always felt that distance I felt with others with my mother. Dr. Calloway was the only person who took the time to learn my personality and accept me. Unfortunately, she was always trying to get me to branch out. She would say I had a wonderful personality and that it was wasted by my limited social interactions. I always sort of shrugged. I know she put me at reception to get me to talk to people.
"Yes Dr. Calloway?" I asked as we walked back towards her private office.
"Good Lord Iris, do we have to do this every day? I am Janet. Your friend Janet. Call me Janet," she said and I could tell she was in a particularly foul mood today.
"Sorry," I said, looking down at my shoes. I hated when she was like this, she could be quite cruel, I think because she thought she could shock me out of it.
"Don't be sorry," she said and then flopped down in her chair, "That boy was cute, you should've taken him up on that free lunch."
"There is no free lunch," I said and then immediately felt embarrassed about my boldness.
"Oh relax Iris. He wouldn't make you fuck him," she said rolling her eyes. I hated it when she swore. Most of the time she was very sweet, but sometimes she got in these moods where she was vicious. I know she felt sorry about it later. I began to feel nervous as she looked at me. She just wanted what she thought was best for me. She wanted me to have a full life and I was afraid of that. I felt hot tears coming to my cheeks. Her demeanor softened.
"I am sorry Janet," I stammered, trying to control myself. She sighed deeply and then stood up and put her hand on my shoulder.
"It's alright dear," she said, taking on the motherly tone I liked better. I wiped the tears with the back of my hand and she looked at my eyes and smiled.
"I know what I am supposed to do, but I can't do it."
"No. No. No, don't worry about it now. I have been a little pushy with you lately. I can tell you have been pretty stressed," she said and it was true. She tried to set me up on dates and gotten her niece to invite me out for a night at the clubs but I had turned it all down. I knew I frustrated her and she frustrated me.
"No you haven't," I lied, feeling guilty. Dr. Calloway shook her head.
"It is okay to stand up for yourself you don't have to lie," she said and I began to reply but she lifted her hand to stop me, "Listen, I can tell you have been really stressed out lately and I know you have a lot of stuff on your plate."
"I'm alright," I said, I hated it when Dr. Calloway worried about me.
"Don't interrupt me Iris," she said, with a bit of an edge, "I know what I want to say so just relax and let me talk. What I was trying to say is that you have been working here for 3 years and in that time you have never taken any of your vacation days and you have never used a sick day. You're here every day that this place has been open. Now, I am really happy that you are a great employee, but I think you need a vacation." I'd never even considered this. The last thing I wanted was to put on a bathing suit and got to a beach or something mortifying like that . "Oh I don't know," I said.
"I own a cabin out at Lake Sacagawea State Park. I want you here to take the keys," she said and took a small key off of the desk, "and take my car," she said as she pulled another key out of the pocket of her lab coat, "I want you to go there today after work and I want you to relax. It is just your kind of place. It isn't roughing it or anything. It has cable and a hot tub, but it is completely secluded. You could walk around naked and no one would care. I want you to stay there until a week from Sunday, and only then can you come back to work." I was speechless. This was so sweet and thoughtful.
"Oh my God Janet, thank you so much. It is so perfect," I said and I felt myself getting a bit choked up.
"Honey, honey," she said, laughing and rubbing my arm, "This is a very small thing. You have earned it. You don't always have to be so grateful when someone does something decently to you. You have far too low standards for that sort of thing."
"Sorry," I said and she didn't correct me, she just rolled her eyes.
The rest of the day seemed to drag on into eternity. The only thing that I wanted to do was get into Dr. Calloway's Mercedes and drive the 60 miles to the lake and look at the cabin. I was less nervous about the patients because I wasn't even thinking about them and it felt good. Finally, 4:30 rolled around and I signed out and ran out to the parking lot. Dr. Calloway drove an SUV to the office, but left her Mercedes at her house. I hopped onto my little Vespa and rushed over to her house. She lived very close to the office and before I knew it I was at her house and driving back to my place to pack up. Ten minutes later I was on the road.
My personality while I am driving is the exact opposite of the way I am whenever I am anywhere else. I drive really, really fast. I pass unsafely. I honk my horn. I flip people the bird. I don't know what it is, but it is like I am in a bubble when I am driving. Especially when I am driving Dr. Calloway's Mercedes. I was slowly saving my money so that I could buy one just like it someday, or maybe when she got tired of this one I could buy it from her.
I flew all the way to the state park, following the directions Dr. Calloway had given me before I left. It was 60 miles away but I made it there in about 35 minutes. I had never been pulled over before I figured that the less I worried about it, the less likely it was to happen. Regardless, I made it to the cabin just as the sun was going down behind the mountains.
It was an absolutely beautiful area. The cabin looked small from the outside and it was made to look as though it were constructed from logs. It sat about ten yards from the lake itself and the entire area between the cabin and the lake was a large sandy area. The lake was wide and the thin strip of sandy area around it appeared to be the only non-wooded spot within walking distance. Behind the cabin was a thick forest that climbed slowly up the side of an immense mountain. The road stopped at my cabin and it was at least 7 miles from the nearest other, a similar cabin near the entrance to the park. The water was glassy and calm and it made me feel good just to look at it.
I grabbed my suitcase and walked up the steps onto the front porch. The entire building had a pleasant, rustic smell. There was quaint wicker furniture on the front porch and I was already in love. I went inside and found that it was a bit larger than it looked outside. I walked into a modest sized living room with a large television and a big, comfy looking futon. Behind this room, through a large opening I passed through a mixed kitchen/dining room with newish looking appliances. To the left of the living room I found a bedroom with an attached bathroom and to the right a hallway with a stairway that led to the second floor. I walked up there to check it out and found three more bedrooms and another bathroom. It was a veritable palace and it made my little apartment look like a rats nest.
I didn't even know where to start first so I checked the fridge and found that it was well stocked. Dr. Calloway must've gone up there pretty often. I looked in the freezer and saw that there was a frozen pepperoni pizza. I pre-heated the oven and got ready to eat. Pizza is one of my guilty pleasures. I would eat it and I wouldn't even worry about doing the crunches to make up for it. After all, I was on vacation. I sat down in the futon and watched television for a while. It was nice to sit and relax and know that I was completely alone. I didn't have to feel self-conscious, I could just be alone and be happy.
I eventually cooked and ate my pizza and I noticed that it was now quite dark. I took a lamp out onto the front porch and read a cheap romance novel in the flickering light. I read for a while, but the book was unable to capture my interest. I felt a strange combination of feelings. I felt relaxed and content in being alone and not having to worry, but this left a huge gap in my emotions that was usually filled with anxiety. This thought itself was just starting to make me nervous when I suddenly remembered that there was a hot tub somewhere near here.
I closed my book and walked back into the house. I looked around on the first floor and then checked to see if there was perhaps a basement. When I realized that this wasn't the case, I figured that it must have been outside. I looked around the kitchen and found the backdoor. I went outside and there was a large wooden deck. Sunken into the deck was a beautiful hot tub, covered up to protect the heat. I flipped the cover open and set it to the side. Steam poured out from inside and I stuck my hand into the clear, hot water. It must've been over 105 degrees!
I turned on the jets and then considered going inside to get my bathing suit. However, a thought struck me. Dr. Calloway had said that there was no one around here for miles. I looked around. I am not going to lie. I really am proud of my body. I like the way I look, I just don't like that other people seem to enjoy it so much. I pulled off my blue t-shirt and threw it on the deck. I unhooked my worn black bra and let it slide down my arms. My nipples got hard in the cool fall air and I looked at them. They were small, teardrop shaped breasts. What they lacked in size they made up for in suppleness and shape. My nipples were small and pink. I slowly pulled my skirt down and threw it on the pile of clothes.
I suddenly realized that I was almost naked and outside. I fought and kept that same old anxiety from taking me. It was very difficult for me to be naked most of the time. I had to buy an apartment that had no windows in the bathroom and no windows that could look into the bathroom if I accidentally left the door open, which I never did. Here I was, with my breasts out and I was standing there in my underwear. I would be lying if I said I wasn't proud of myself. This pride allowed me to finish the job. I hooked my thumbs into my panties and slowly slid them down my body until they were on the deck. I slowly kicked them off.
Now the reason for all my anxiety was revealed to the woods around me. Everything in my life seemed to center around a small bit of skin and tissue between my legs. There, waxed and limp, was my penis. I had been born a girl in every way except for one. I naturally had very small breasts (which Dr. Calloway had convinced me to augment all those years ago right before I started to work for her. Convinced is a nice way of saying she berated me two hours a day until I let her do it), a feminine face, feminine hips, and feminine legs, hands, and feet.
Dr. Calloway considered me a pet project of sorts. She was an out-patient plastic surgeon and she had tweaked my already girlish features to make me a beautiful woman. She was more like a mother than anyone could have suspected, in a sense she had made me. However, I would never let her removed the small, 2.5" cock and grape sized testicles from between my legs. Not once in my entire life had I ever achieved an erection and the Dr. Calloway told me I wasn't going to be able to given the hormones she gave me, but I liked my penis. It made me who I am. That is not to say I am not embarrassed by it and terrified that someone will find out. I don't even know how Dr. Calloway had convinced me to confide in her when I was 18, but she was the only person besides my birth mother who knew my secret.
Dr. Calloway was always telling me that I was a woman and that women had vaginas and that it naturally followed that I should allow her to remove my cock. She didn't understand why I always refused and she felt that it was the reason for my social awkwardness. She might have been right, but that didn't change the fact that I wanted to keep it. The main reason I loved my little cock was something completely secret. Something I never told anyone.
Like I said, I never liked to get naked and I rarely was. However, on those rare occasions like my semi-daily shower or when I had to change clothes, I would wax my little cock bare and then I would masturbate. I loved to masturbate. My cock wouldn't get hard, but I would play with it and then cum. I could do it dozens of times when I was in the mood and it was the most wonderful feeling. I had long since realized that I was the only person who would ever give me pleasure and so I relished it. It was one of the few pure pleasures in my life and the only thing that didn't make me anxious.
So here I was, naked in the woods. I slowly slid myself into the hot water. It was almost painfully warm at first, but slowly I began to get used to it. It was most painful on my penis and my nipples, so I covered my penis with my left hand and my nipples with my right arm while I eased in. Eventually, however, I was able to put my arms around the rim and simply relax and enjoy the feeling. I was delighted by the jet which continually massaged my cock. I sat for a long while, just enjoying the jets. However, it slowly started to make me both very hot and also a bit horny. While my cock didn't get hard, it did begin to ache. I could tell that I needed to play with it. The water was so hot.
I put my arms palms down behind me and slowly slid myself back onto the deck. The air was even cooler now and steam rose from my body and chilled me. I lay down on my back and stared at the stars and breathed the cool air. I moved my right hand down my body, touching my hard nipples and my flat stomach. I moved over my waxed lower stomach until my fingers rubbed up against my tiny cock.
I didn't think about anything in particular and I placed the pad of my thumb on the top of my cock and my middle and index finger against my urethra on the bottom. I began to stroke gently on my cock and my breathing was slow. I closed my eyes and focused. With my ring and pinky fingers I softly stroked my testicles. I rubbed my nipple gently with the other hand. I felt the warmth growing in my loins as my work on my cock began to raise my temperate. I slowly moved my left hand down my body and spread my legs.
I continued to slowly tug on my limp cock with my right hand and for a moment I cupped my testicles with my other. Then I slid my hand down to my asshole. It was still wet from the hot tub and the water worked as well as the lube I secretly purchased from the internet. I took the ring finger on my left hand and slowly start to press it against my anus. I continued to stroke my cock while I did this and I writhed and moaned on the deck, my body shivering in the cold and my lust. Carefully, my finger worked itself deeper and deeper into my asshole. I don't know when I discovered this trick, but it really helped my masturbation to gently massage my prostate while I stroked my cock.
I groaned loudly as my ring finger slide all the way to the second knuckle into my ass. I loved the imagery of my left ring finger being surrounded by my anus. I knew that I would never get married, but here was my marriage finger, ringed by my own anus and I liked that idea. It made me feel sexy. I slowly massaged the soft, tight, pillowy insides of my ass. Stroking myself at the same time. I was freezing now, but the pleasure pushed me on.
Suddenly, that familiar feeling came over me. I knew I was on the verge of an orgasm so I plunged my finger deeper into my asshole, hard. I felt my asshole contract tight around my finger and at the same time my little cock began to throb. My nipples tingled as my orgasm suddenly erupted. My cock shot forward a large load of white, hot cum. It steamed as it landed on my flat stomach, tits, and chin. I always came in large amounts, at least an ounce but usually three, each time I came. I slid my finger from my asshole and lay panting and shivering on the deck as I returned to my senses. I used my towel to dry myself off and then quickly rushed into the house to warm myself. I had started a fire earlier and I sat in front of it naked and slowly thawed. I smiled to myself as I sat there in the glow of the fire and felt complete in a way I rarely felt at home. I was looking forward to the rest of this vacation.