My Wife Feminized Me and the Doctor Took Us Both to Task

I got home with my body still trembling, and the first thing I did was get into the shower. I let the hot water run until it was almost gone, rubbing my thighs and hips, trying to erase every trace of what had happened that afternoon in the doctor’s office. No matter how much I soaped myself, the feeling wouldn’t go away.

When I came out, I sat on the edge of the bed wrapped in a towel and stared at the wall. I had to decide what I was going to tell Marcela: the whole truth, or a white lie that would spare me the shame.

I loved her too much to lie to her.

Marcela got home from work after seven. Before she even took off her coat, she was asking me about the visit to the urologist, with that worried look of hers that always softened me.

—Marcela, sit down first —I said.

She looked at me with sudden fear and sank into the armchair. I told her everything. I hid nothing, not even what I had felt while it was happening, that mixture of panic and something else I still didn’t know how to name. She listened without interrupting, her hands clenched over her knees, until I was done.

Her face changed slowly. Fear turned to rage.

—The last thing I expected from you was that you’d cheat on me behind my back —she said, her voice shaking—. The woman you are today, you owe her to me. If anyone has to be your master and mistress, it’s me. Nobody else you meet out there.

—You are my only mistress —I answered softly—. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.

—Of course it won’t happen. You belong to me, to no one else.

I could only nod, biting my lip.

—I’m going to report that doctor for what he did to you —she added, getting to her feet—. But first I want to see him. I want to say it to his face and ruin his career.

***

The following week a message arrived on my phone with the date and time of the next appointment. This time it was late in the afternoon, almost at closing time. Something about that schedule made my skin prickle, though I didn’t want to think about it too much.

On the appointed day, the two of us showed up at the clinic. The waiting room was empty, the lights dimmed. The receptionist was already gathering her things, and when she saw us she told us Doctor Sandoval would call us in in a moment, that she was leaving.

We waited a few minutes in silence, Marcela’s knees brushing mine. Then the back door opened and he appeared in the doorway, calm, his white coat open over a spotless shirt.

—Come in —he said, stepping aside.

Once we were seated in front of his desk, the doctor fixed his gaze on Marcela and asked in what capacity she was accompanying me.

—I’m her wife —she replied, tense, clasping her hands over her bag.

—Good. Has Mara already told you what the previous consultation involved?

—She has told me everything in detail —said Marcela, straightening her back—. And that’s exactly what I’ve come to talk about. I’m going to report…

Doctor Sandoval cut her off without raising his voice, the way one snuffs out a candle with two fingers.

—You’re not going to do anything. You’re going to witness what is going to happen here. You’re going to make yourself available to me for whatever I need, and you’re going to behave like a good obedient girl. Is that clear?

I didn’t know where to put myself. I waited for Marcela to explode, to stand up, to threaten him. But she didn’t say a word. I only saw her lower her gaze to her shoes and give the slightest nod, just a tiny movement of her chin.

—Mara —he said then, turning to me—, you know what you have to do.

I stood up as if someone else were moving my legs. I took off my skirt and underwear, leaving them folded on the chair, and leaned over the exam table, resting my forearms on the cold leather. My heart was pounding in my throat.

—Marcela, come closer —he ordered—. I don’t want you to miss a single detail.

She obeyed. I felt her position herself beside me, her ragged breathing near my ear. The doctor took up position behind me.

—Pull down my pants —he told my wife— and get me ready. I want to be hard before I go into her.

—Yes, sir. As you say.

I heard the sound of the buckle, the fabric sliding down. I turned my head just enough and saw Marcela kneeling beside him, her fingers wrapping around him, stroking him slowly while she looked up at him with a meekness I had never known her to have. The power that man exerted over both of us was such that neither of us was capable of resistance. Only obedience.

—He’s hard already —Marcela murmured.

—Take the petroleum jelly from the drawer and spread it well —he said—. I want it smooth.

Marcela prepared me with a tenderness that contrasted with everything else. Her fingers cold from the cream, one finger slipping in carefully, her other hand caressing my lower back as if silently asking forgiveness. I closed my eyes. We shouldn’t be here, I thought, and yet I didn’t move.

—Help me get it in —he ordered when he was ready.

I felt my wife’s hand guiding him, her palm against my hip, and then the pressure, slow, forcing its way in. I laid my forehead on my arm and let out a long moan. The doctor began to move with a steady rhythm, unhurried, holding me by the waist with both hands.

I turned my head and saw Marcela still on her knees, staring at him dreamily, one hand between her own thighs over her clothes.

—Strip —he told her without stopping his thrusts—. I’m going to fuck you this afternoon too.

She got to her feet and began taking off her blouse with clumsy fingers, then her skirt, her bra, everything, until she was completely naked in the middle of the consulting room, under the amber light filtering through the blinds.

—Mara, do you like how I’m doing it? —he asked me.

—Yes, sir —I panted—. I like it. I’m going to come.

—You’ll come when I say so. Not a second before.

—Yes, sir. When you say so.

Marcela came up behind him and pulled his shirt off his shoulders. She started running her palms over his chest, kissing his neck, while with her other hand she touched herself, lost in something I didn’t understand and that, at the same time, I recognized inside myself.

I held on as long as I could, my knuckles white against the edge of the table, until he, between my moans, granted me permission.

—Now. Come now.

The instant he said it, I collapsed onto the exam table, my whole body shaking, releasing myself against the leather. This time he didn’t come inside me, and absurd as it may seem, that left me with a stab of frustration I didn’t dare confess.

—Get up —he told me, stepping away—. Marcela, now it’s your turn. How do you want me to fuck you?

—However you wish —she answered without hesitation—. I’m yours.

The doctor sank into one of the office chairs and motioned for her to sit on top of him. Marcela obeyed at once, guided him into her and started riding him slowly, her hands braced on his shoulders, her head thrown back.

—Mara —he said, looking at me over my wife’s shoulder—, are you watching me fuck her?

—Yes, sir —I answered, my voice breaking—. You’re very good at it. Marcela is enjoying herself.

—Marcela, how much are you enjoying yourself?

—So much, sir —she moaned—. I’ve never felt anything like this.

She kept moving on him. He caught her nipples between his fingers, tugging them toward him, and she begged him for more, harder, in a voice I didn’t know. She was crazed. I had never seen her surrender like that. Caught up in the scene, I slid a hand between my legs without being able to stop myself, watching them the way someone watches something they shouldn’t.

—Ask me to fill you —he ordered.

—Please, fill me —Marcela pleaded—. I need it.

—Tell me whose you are.

—Yours, my lord. Yours alone. Give it to me, please.

—That’s it. You and your husband are mine.

When Marcela felt him emptying inside her, she exploded into a long orgasm, gripping his shoulders as if she were about to fall, trembling from head to toe. It took her a while to catch her breath. I was still standing off to the side, not knowing what to do with my own hands.

—Mara —he said at last, still seated—, clean me with your mouth. And then clean your wife.

I did it. I knelt and obeyed in an attitude of submission that came to me from some place I preferred not to look into, while Marcela watched me with glassy eyes.

When I finished, Doctor Sandoval stood up, straightened his shirt, and turned his back on us.

—Get dressed and go —he said, washing his hands in the small sink in the corner—. We’re done for today. I’ll call you in again.

***

We got dressed without looking at each other, heads bowed, and left the office in silence. We crossed the empty waiting room, rode down in the elevator without saying a word, drove home like two people absent from themselves. Only when we closed the apartment door, safe inside our own walls, did we dare talk about what had happened.

—Mara, I don’t know what happened to us —said Marcela, collapsing onto the sofa with her face in her hands—. We seemed like two submissives with no will of our own. This wasn’t normal. It can’t be, and it can’t be good for us. We can’t allow it.

—You’re absolutely right —I replied, sitting down beside her—. But it’s enough for that man to be near me and I lose my mind. As if I stopped being myself.

—It happened to me too —she admitted in a very low voice, not daring to meet my eyes—. And precisely for that reason we can’t go see him again.

I nodded. I took her hand and squeezed it, and we stayed like that for a long while, two women convinced of a decision that, deep down, neither of us knew whether she would be able to keep when the next message arrived.