The Making Of Medickimbee Pt 05

"Oh, there she is! We've been looking for you."

Even with my head under the water from the shower I recognized the voice of now, Captain Tuggersly. Turning around I found not just her but two other women firefighters, Lieutenants Anita Warren and Phoebe Stein, standing at the entry way to the block of shower stalls. Like me at that moment, all three were stark naked.

It wasn't like I hadn't seen all their "stuff" before. It was a common women's locker room for the fire department, after all, and in Tuggersly's case I had done way more than see her anatomy. I had been forced to go down and lick the most intimate, hairy, and even disgusting parts to her satisfaction. Not that she alone had wanted or had done something sexually inappropriate to me. It had been two years since I had completed my paramedic training and joined the department as a fully-fledged member. I was even a supervisory medic now, but despite my rise in rank, the commensurate respect hadn't come along. It was just too easy for them.

I looked at Anita's smaller tits with the little erect nipples and her much wider hips framing that flaming ginger bush that matched her short, cropped head. It was a contrast to Phoebe's fake tits that were still a cup size smaller than mine along with her much denser jet black anatomical Brillo pad edged for a bikini line. While Tuggersly had required oral service between her legs, the others had vented their own little forms of sexual bullying toward me in more psychological ways.

For example, to "celebrate" my graduation from the EMT program, after I did my fitness test, Anita had taken all my clothing and my towel from the locker room and put it on the hood of an ambulance so that I had to streak past all the guys to get them.

Phoebe had been far cleverer and even more of a bitch. It was after a particularly arduous and hot patient transport, and I was wringing with sweat so into the shower I had gone. It was also the day that an 18--19-year-old explorer group was touring the department. In a stroke of what she thought was absolute hilarity she had switched the gender designation on the locker door from women to men. I was washing my hair, all soapy and eyes closed, when I heard several young male voices chuckling. Then I heard a whistle. Rinsing my head quickly and opening one eye carefully so no residual soap could get in, I saw ten happily grinning explorers getting a free show.

I'd been away from the strip club long enough that it wasn't something I was used to anymore, at least not like that, and I went knock-kneed trying to cover with both arms and hands. The happy little jerks just hooted and applauded.

No, despite my rise in rank in the department, the idea of once-a-stripper-always-a-slut seemed to still give license to anyone that wanted to pull some dirty prank on the "medic with the huge tits" as some of the newer recruits still referred to me.

Right then, what sent a creeping sensation of dread up my spine despite the warm water cascading down it, was the way they three naked women were looking me up and down and grinning. I knew there was recurrent jealousy about my body and looks that flared when they had something particularly awful in mind. Now I could tell they were on the verge of a whole new episode of fun at my expense. I folded my arms over my big tits and cocked my head incredulously.

"Why are you looking for me?"

They looked at each other and smiled then looked back at me.

"Well," said Tuggersly, "You know the chief if going to retire?"

"Yes," I said.

Everyone did. He had been around forever and at 69 he was way past overdue to make way for some new leadership.

The three naked women looked at each other again and smiled, then moved into their respective shower bays and turned on the water. Somehow the fact that they were exercising a kind of informal bullying power in the nude made it even worse than if they were dressed. It was like they were saying, "we may all be naked but you are still not on the same level."

They were right. My stripper background, my history, all the things that I had done to get off probation and into the department had gotten around and in the pecking order of the fire department, I was the littlest chicken, even if parts of me were much bigger.

"Well," said Anita, "we were thinking he needed some entertainment at the party."

"Special entertainment," clarified Phoebe, her eyes sparkling at the fun of laying this on me.

I knew where they were heading, and there was no way I was going to agree to that. There would be a ton of department personnel there and besides, I didn't entertain anymore.

"Oh no," I reacted shaking my head.

That just made them grin even more.

"Oh now, is that being a team player?" said Tuggersly.

"All we are suggesting is that you do a little dancing around for a guy that has given so much to the department." Anita was soaping her flaming bush. It had an obscene quality made even more so since she wasn't being sexual right then at all. It was like she didn't feel the need to be discreet because I didn't even matter.

To my own astonishment and horror, my nipples thickened and knobbed. I was reacting to their snobbery. Tuggersly in particular noticed and grinned.

"Looks to me like you might not be quite so opposed to doing it," said Anita in a mocking tone.

"I am!" I protested.

The sad fact was that over the past couple of years the colocation of humiliation, submission, and arousal had become so psychologically entangled that even if my logical brain was saying no to something offensive and embarrassing, my body was contradictorily reacting. That is what these arrogant and insistent bitches were keying in on now.

"She'll do it," said Phoebe with such assurance that I felt my grip on control slip slightly. It didn't help and, in fact, it only made the compulsion so much more when I noticed that she was talking to the others and referring to me in the third person. It was like in her mind, I didn't even have a say.

"No," I said. It didn't sound as forceful or definite as I had hoped.

The three of them looked at me and smiled in the most condescending manner.

............................................................................................................................................................

I must have said no at least ten times. Most recently it was that very night as I was handed the brand new firefighter bunker gear of a helmet, coat, suspendered pants, boots... and nothing else. I was being expected to "gear up" like some firefighter stripper fantasy. To put it all on with NOTHING under and then take it all off.

"I only ever danced topless," I appealed to the three women who stood there completely dressed and smiling like it was already a done deal.

It was true. Totally, the club where I had worked was topless only. As I have shared before, going all nude was a big step down in terms of how a "dancer" was categorized.

Now, wearing a g string, I was being ordered to take that next downward step. With a sense of utter helplessness and humiliation I reached down as they smugly looked on and unsnapped the side clips. The stretchy little undergarment popped free and dropped away with my last bit of personal defense revealing my pussy and the little landing strip of hair above it. Now all nude, I stepped into the suspendered pants and boots. Hearing a snicker of laughter, I looked up. It was Phoebe.

"What?" I asked.

"You owe me a dollar," Phoebe said to Anita.

I looked confused, standing there stark naked with the pants around my knees.

"She bet you'd take it off without arguing," explained Tuggersly with a grin.

"Yeah," said Phoebe striking another humiliating blow. "When I saw how you had done your makeup for tonight, I said oh, we've totally got her."

At the mention of Totally, all three broke up in laughter.

"Good one," said Anita.

Unable to reply, I squatted down grabbed the pants and pulled them up to cover myself to the waist before fixing the suspender straps over my erect nipples and areola. They were right, and sadly enough, I knew it. That evening knowing I was going to dance topless, at least then I just thought it would be topless, I had just reflexively done my "work" makeup in the manner that had been habit for years. Smokey around the eyes, hot pink lipstick, it was the go to from my days dancing under the muted red and blue light for leering men. Picking up the jacket I slipped it on and latched the front eyelets. The only thing different aside from not having a critical g string was that I had pulled my hair back and up in a casual twist, the style that I wore now everyday on the ambulance. Otherwise, I was back in dancer mode, or more accurately to my present shame, in stripper mode. I put the helmet on my head and clicked down a visor that obscured my face. Now completely covered, I looked like any other short, slim firefighter in gear that didn't really fit. Seeing the smiles of expectation and mocking on the other women's faces, I knew that illusion was going to be short lived.

It was confirmed when Tuggersly said with a slight chuckle, "Okay, showtime."

Following them we walked out into what was normally used as the big briefing room that was also used for CPR training or other big or ceremonial presentations. I don't know what I had expected but to my grave despair, I saw that the place was packed, and almost all were people I either worked with, had trained within the department.

A few, I couldn't help noting, were people who already had intimate knowledge of me in one form or another. At one end of the room sat the outgoing Chief Murphy. He was old, like everyone had emphasized and was lounging back in a big leather chair that had been given to him by the department. On either side were varied artifacts from his career, including several old, warped helmets and tired looking leather helmet patches showing his ranks changes from firefighter, to lieutenant, to captain, to various ascendancies of chiefdom. From what I could see, his pink face already had that drunken flushed quality that was confirmed by half empty glass of Irish whiskey in his hand.

Before I could contemplate it further, Tuggersly looked off toward the side and lifted her hand to twirl an extended finger in the air. It was the cue for music and someone started a kind of hyped up rocking number that almost screamed strip club. The crowd reacted, and it was obvious that the word was out that they had gotten some adult entertainment for the Chief's send off and that now was the time for that to begin. Deep down, I cringed at how I knew they would react when they realized the entertainment was me.

For a second I contemplated turning and running out of there. I wanted to. I wanted to shout, I'm not letting you reduce me to this disempowering objectification. I could have physically, I knew that. But somewhere during my journey at the department, something had happened to me that made it impossible.

"You're on, Kim," said Tuggersly stepping back for me to begin my performance.

To their delight, and resorting to my old stage failsafe, I strutted aggressively out across the room to within a few feet of the Chief and cocked one hip almost confrontationally. Too many seemed to know what was coming and I heard a salacious hoot of expectation. With an over-the-top, movement of my right hand I grabbled the top buckle on the coat and unhooked. The hooting rose to an even louder, dirty full-throated cheer tinged with some female laughter as I repeated the move unhooking a second and showed a bit of cleavage.

"Oh yeah, take it off!" someone yelled to a chorus of encouragement.

"Hey, honey, if you forgot your hose, I have one you can hold," said another that was answered with a big gale of laughter.

I felt a sense that I was dropping so much further than I had ever imagined in the social order at the department, and I also had a sense of what would happen when I eventually took off the helmet and they realized it was me that they were seeing in my birthday suit. Even so I reached across and undid another buckle so that it was evident that I had on nothing from the waist up underneath.

Another buckle and the jacket was completely open. With a sort of all-over body wiggle I worked a shoulder out on one side. From there, the weight of the heavy jacket slid off the other side leaving me completely topless, with only the wide suspenders to the pants to cover my tits. The loud raucous cheer and "Oh my God" type comments was deafening.

I gave a short little dancer style move of my hips and then feeling a degrading little moment of truth coming up, I reached up and hooked a thumb under one suspender strap.

The crowd went crazy.

Pulling it out, and down to one side I exposed one big augmented tit. Again, the result was a ravenous roar for more of me to be shown.

Reaching up I did the same on the opposite side and then let it go.

Unfortunately, whether I was distracted or had just forgotten didn't matter. With the last suspender released, the pants fell revealing not just the other big tit but my pussy as well. And the crowd's response suddenly said it all. There was nothing to do as I looked over and saw some of the women with their hands over their mouth stifling an "Oh my God" expression while the men were openly grinning laughing cheering.

Stepping out of the boots I was directly in front of the chief. Seeing his eyes go immediately to my nearly completely bald pussy, I hesitated. Honestly, it was like the man was trying to memorize every detail of it in an instant. Before I can really consider the awful implication of that, a resounding chant intruded on my thinking.

"Helmet, helmet, helmet."

I looked over. It was Phoebe. In an instant, the rest of the crowd seemed to realize that there was some special treat waiting for the removal of the identity hiding helmet. Reaching up with shaking hands I lifted it from my ponytailed head. As soon as the visor cleared, I heard a collective gasp followed by a second of verbal silence.

"Oh my God, it's Kim!"

"Holy shit!"

"Good Lord, look at her!"

That last line was from a nice plump older woman, a wife of one of the battalion chiefs who was always bringing cookies and cake around to the station as a morale booster. Now, she was looking at me with a strangely stunned fascination.

Then a massive mocking cheer went up.

"Dance, dance, dance."

The chant had started with that asshole Anita, but quickly the rest of the mob had joined it. In a really sad way, it was the perfect peer pressure and I responded with a conditioned submissive, roll and pivot of my hips.

A crowing dirty approval rose from the mob. Meanwhile the Chief was looking from my pussy to my tits and back with the fascination of a big dirty kid about to have his every wet dream come true.

"Bend over and shake those big funbags for me, honey."

It was the chief. In a second, I realized I was not a medic in his department right then. I was the same stripper that had gotten busted and did her community service giving guys a cheap thrill as I washed the trucks. It was so demoralizing that I leaned forward knowing that behind me everyone was getting an intimate and humiliating look at what nature had given me. The fact that it was all shaved back there made it even more of a disclosure. The whistles and loud guffaws just confirmed it.

Shaking my shoulders, I made my big hanging knockers sway and bump. The fact that I had obeyed a demeaning order wasn't lost on anyone, least of all me.

"Oh yeah, turn around and show me what everybody else just saw."

I obeyed, turning and bending over. I could almost feel his eyes memorizing every nook and cranny.

"Hey, how about a lapdance?" It was Anita.

Almost immediately, Tuggersly began an inciting, "lapdance, lapdance, lapdance" chant. The crowd was only too happy to join in.

I was already in position so, bending my knees, I lowered myself onto the retiring chief's lap. Then with my hands on my own knees and I began an insane grind up and down and back and forth on his already enlarging bulge. I had only just begun when I felt his tenting penis harden until I was sliding up and down its entire length with just a thin layer of cloth between us. He might have been in his sixties but based on what I was feeling, someone hadn't told his penis. Soon after that my heart sank as I felt him start to thrust upward slightly to meet my own movement. It was a little too forceful and in that forward leaning position, each little hump made my breasts shake and sway to the crowd's delight.

Mercifully, just then the song was coming to an end. I had done my striptease. As I finished, I stood up and turned round to face him. Then I leaned over and gave him a professional peck on the cheek. Unfortunately, the old chief took the opportunity to grab a feel of both of my buns, and with one in each hand, he did something that no one would ever have gotten away with back at Totally. The man spread them!

At first, I was too shocked to react. Of all the things this former leader of the department might have done, that was never a possibility in my mind. But that soft intrusive, offending, humiliating sensation of air conditioning right there, right on the old gyno zone, and the prying tension I felt as he shared an obscene view of me with anyone looking, told me otherwise. Of course, if there had been any doubt, the ribald comments from those who saw, would have been more than enough to let me know.

"Oh my God, it's a clam AND a starfish."

"Who knew this was going to be like a field trip to the aquarium."

It was all reaction, but I gently put my hands on his chest and pushing lightly, stepped back and out of his clutches. I just wanted to escape. I had done the dance and as far as I was concerned, I was now out of there.

With my big tits bumping and shaking, I walked quickly toward where I had left my clothing. Just as I was about to get away, though, I found myself facing the three women that had been so instrumental in my being there in the first place. More than anything it was the smirking, presumptive looks on their faces that stopped me in my tracks even before Tuggersly held up one finger and waggled it in an uh, uh, uh manner.

"What?" I said. "I did what you wanted." It sounded a lot more like whining than I wanted.

Before I could offer another objection, Anita was next to her shaking her head as well.

"Uh, you started something you need to finish," she said.

At first, I didn't follow what she meant. Then I looked back. The tenting in Chief Murphy's pants was somehow even more apparent from a distance. What they were expecting me to do about it now was even more outrageously apparent.

Some in the crowd seemed to pick up on what I was being directed to do. Standing there stark naked, having shown off so much, having done so much, I felt utterly helpless and obliging. It was like they had put me squarely in the category of "stripper" forever now, and even worse, fire department slut.

Finish the job," yelled Phoebe a little too loudly. "Finish the JOB!"

It was like a match dropped into dry grass. The crowd instantly took up the chant.

"Finish the job."

"Finish the job."

"Finish the job."

It was like my will, my sense of decency, my pride was just at the whim of others. With a feeling like I was stepping way down in more than just a social or sexual way, and with my head shaking no, I turned and started walking back toward the chief. The implication of what I was about to do drew a big whoop from some as I walked up and knelt down on the floor like a naked supplicant.

Reaching up, I unfastened the man's pants and to my surprise an extremely rigid thick pink penis popped up from the gap in the front of his boxers. A sort of celebratory cheer went up and it occurred to me as I worked his pants and boxers down that indicated that this had all been planned.