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Urgent lovers continue their weekend in Tokyo.

Even more disconcerting he soon realised that he was dressed in his favourite lingerie: full-slip, suspenders, stockings, panties and he could feel that his feet were in a very unfamiliar pair of shoes. When he looked down he saw that below his slim stocking-clad ankles his feet were shod in black high-heel pumps.

He was also aware that his hair felt different, it was longer and he had a fringe. Someone had put a wig on him. But more perplexingly he could taste lipstick on his lips and was aware that someone had put something on his face. He appeared to be wearing makeup. He was also aware of the very sensual aroma of perfume that surrounded him.

Still groggy he looked around the room. He was still in room 206 as best he could determine; beside the bed was a basin sitting on a stand, the kind the nurses used to shave patients prior to surgery. It was full of soapy water, hair and a razor.

A vanity screen was set up in the corner of the room and beside it was a chair over which was draped his uniform, under which were his shoes and socks.

It dawned on him. Someone had shaved him, the luxurious feel of the undergarments and stockings were accentuated because his body was freshly shaven. Someone had applied cosmetics to his face, bewigged him and dressed him as a woman. As exotic as this felt, his feelings of trepidation were not abated. Someone had done this to him and him tied to a bed.

His immediate thought was that this was going to be a very embarrassing practical joke likely organised by Dr Lovejoy or the Matron; that the entire shift of hospital staff would be invited to come and laugh at him.

"What do you think Nurse Nyland?" he heard a familiar voice.

He looked over to see Matron Holliday wheeling over a full-length mirror. She was wearing her nurse's uniform but it wasn't right. Her hair was coiffured differently, it was let down and brushed out, her tunic was unbuttoned to reveal what looked like a satin bustier, the hem was way to short, revealing the dark welts of her fully-fashioned stockings and she was wearing high-heels as opposed to the regulation nurses soft-soled shoes. Also her makeup was too heavy and dramatic to be acceptable for work.

As the mirror came closer, eventually coming to rest at foot of the bed, Michael was astonished to see his reflection. If he didn't know better he would swear that he was looking at a sexy, voluptuous woman tied to the bed. Clad in silky full-slip, satin cami-knickers, sheer hose, high-heels; her makeup professionally applied and her hair coffered. She looked like a slattern, with her red lipstick, rouged cheeks, heavily mascaraed eyes, black kohl and gaudy pink and blue hued eye shadow crowned by an impossibly blonde 'Marilyn Munro' style wig.

"Say hello to Nurse Michele Nylons," Amanda whispered dramatically.

"What the fuck?" Michael stammered.

"Shh, shh Michele, this is just the first part of your training."

"You wanted to secretly dress like one of us; even went as far as stealing our underwear to do so, well now you know what it looks and feels like to be one of us," she jeered.

"What the fuck Amanda? What do you think you're doing?" Michael hissed.

"We all had a meeting. All of us who witnessed your pathetic humiliation in the operating theatre and we decided that if you really want to be a nurse then we should assist you to go the whole way."

"There is really nothing you can do. We will tell the administration about your predilection for crossdressing if you try to resist. Did you really think that you would get off that easy?" the Matron sneered.

"What are you doing? This is crazy?" Michael stammered.

"Well first off I'm going to help you feel more comfortable dressed like a woman as that seems to be your secret desire. Then we will discuss what happens next a little later. Now lie back and relax and let Matron do what she does best," Amanda smiled.

Amanda walked up to the bed and put out a hand, her fingernails were painted bright red and she slowly raked

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