My Stocking Story - Me and a Man with a Stocking Fetish

After graduation, I interned at a hospital and was assigned to the internal medicine department. The work went fairly smoothly; the doctors were all very kind to me, and our department head was especially nice. However, one incident made me feel psychologically distant from him. That day, I was about half an hour late due to traffic. On the way, I quickly asked the head nurse for leave and rushed over. I reported to the head nurse immediately, and she smiled and said it was nothing. I went to our break room to change. It was summer then, and the weather was very hot. I was wearing stockings and high heels that day, so I took off my stockings and shoes and changed into a jacket and cloth shoes. It was so comfortable! If it weren't for the desire to look good, I would never wear high heels; they're so uncomfortable. I noticed my stockings were a bit damp with sweat, so I thought I'd air them out. Just then, I heard the head nurse call me, so I just stuffed them haphazardly into my shoes. After taking the patient's temperature and finishing up, I chatted with my colleagues in the duty room. That's when the head doctor arrived. He wasn't very old, in his thirties, quite handsome, a graduate student from medical school. He got promoted because he did a good job, and I really admire him. He's very kind to us all; he's quite a big shot. There are so many women here, and hardly any men, not even the cleaning staff. He came to see our head nurse, and we quickly stood up to greet him. They said something, and then the head nurse left. A little while later, the head nurse asked us to come closer. She said she had something to say, and we thought it was time for our bonuses, so we all crowded around, staring at her shamelessly. "Starting today, there are adjustments to the night and afternoon shifts. I've pinned the schedule to the blackboard; take a look." Sigh, it wasn't good news. We all sighed. The head nurse and I were assigned to the same shift. "There are fewer staff now; one doctor to one nurse is enough. Let us know if you're not here." Actually, I was a little happy to be assigned to the head nurse. I ran into the head doctor at lunchtime. He smiled at me and said, "We're together now, haha." I knew he was joking, so I said, "It's good to be with you. Go eat." "I have something to do, you go ahead," I said, and went with my colleague. Just as I was about to get my food, I realized my wallet and phone were inside my clothes. I'd changed in such a rush that morning, and it's easy to lose things in the hospital. I said to my colleague, "Sister, save me a seat, I'll go get my things." "Go ahead, I'll wait for you," she said. I ran and skipped upstairs to the break room. I saw the door was ajar, so I went over and peeked inside, preparing to go in. But what I saw made me stop abruptly. The director was inside. He was holding the stockings I'd taken off that morning, rubbing them against his face, and sniffing them intensely. I was terrified; if he found out, I was done for. I didn't take anything, quietly went to the stairs, and ran away as fast as I could. Luckily, I was wearing cloth shoes; otherwise, what would he have done if he'd heard my footsteps? "That pervert," I muttered to myself, my mind racing. I thought about how my socks were sweaty again and I'd forgotten to wash them yesterday; they must smell awful. How could he do that?! I kept thinking about it all afternoon, even dropping a thermometer. The director acted like nothing had happened when he saw me, but I noticed he kept glancing at my legs. At that moment, I felt a little proud; it's nice to be appreciated! The next day, I was on the night shift. I specially changed into pantyhose and high heels, wanting to see how he would react and drive him crazy. I arrived at the hospital, and the feeling at night was different. The same alleyways, the same flowerbeds, but it was always eerie compared to the daytime. I quickly went upstairs; the echoes in the corridor were incredibly loud, scaring me half to death. When I got to the duty room, the head doctor was already there. He looked pleased to see me. After greeting him, I went to the break room to change. I didn't take off my stockings; I just put on my coat and came out. The first thing he looked at in the duty room was my legs. I deliberately pretended to adjust my clothes, revealing a bit of my stockinged leg. I saw him swallow, his eyes shining. I found it quite funny. After a while, I said I was sleepy and would rest my head on the table for a bit. He quickly said okay, okay, so I lay down on the table. He sat opposite me, and I peeked out from under my arm, watching him. He read for a while, then started looking at me. I didn't move, pretending to be asleep. He deliberately made a noise, and when he saw I didn't move, he actually lay down under the table. I really didn't expect this idiot. There was a mirror on the wall diagonally opposite him, and I could see him lying on the floor like a dog, looking at my legs. Then he actually put his hand inside his pants, moving it around very hard. I really admire him; he didn't make a sound. I couldn't take it anymore and stood up abruptly. Then I heard a thud; his head hit the wooden board under the table. It was both funny and infuriating. I quickly pretended to be startled and said, "Ah!! Director, what are you doing???" "Oh, I...I...I was picking something up," he scrambled out, his face flushed. I felt a pang of guilt; why had I bothered him like that? I was afraid I'd scare him. He quickly offered a long explanation, like a child. I suddenly felt a surge of tenderness for him. I sat down and asked, "What's wrong?" He was silent for a moment before saying, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I couldn't control myself." I hadn't expected him to be so honest, so I said, "It's okay, I know you're interested in it." "This..." His face turned even redder. Suddenly, he looked up and said, "I'm going all out. I'll tell you, I like you, and your legs, your stockings. I noticed you the moment you came in. Your legs are beautiful and sexy. I couldn't control myself...can I just touch them, please?" Hearing this, all my previous goodwill vanished. I realized he only saw me as a tool, a means to arouse his lust, with no real affection. I glared at him for a while, then left the duty room, locking the break room door behind me. Lying on the bed, I felt like crying. He didn't like me at all; he only liked looking at my legs and stockings. I angrily took off my pantyhose, went back to the duty room, and slammed them on his desk, yelling, "I'm going to sleep! You can use these!!!!" He looked surprised. I'd left early that morning without even saying goodbye. Actually, I quite liked him, but I was angry because of his disdain. A few days later, he wrote me a ten-page apology, which touched me deeply, and I basically forgave him. Who knows what life will be like from now on? Life goes on. Nobody knows except him and me. Although we're still the same as before, something feels off. I can't tell anyone, not even my friends. I have nowhere to confide in, so I'm posting this here to tell you all. Listen to my rambling.

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My Stocking Story - Me and a Man with a Stocking Fetish

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