The Prankster Ch. 01

Jim sat at the bar and chuckled as he watched the video on his phone. Ange had pranked his mate, John, perfectly. His face was a picture at the end of the clip. He clearly didn't know whether to cry with relief that it had all been a joke, and Angela was alive and well. Or rage that he had been so perfectly scammed.

"I see you're enjoying Ange's work," came a drawl at Jim's shoulder. Jim looked round to see John standing there.

"She got you properly. You gotta admit it. Your face at the end. Bloody perfect."

"Aye, it was well done. She even got me to film my own view, and I really hadn't a clue... So, you going leave me standing here, or you gonna offer me a drink?"

"Sit yourself down yer tight git. I'll get a round in."

Three pints later, Jim turned to his friend and asked, "So, revenge. How yer gonna get her back?"

"Oh, I have a cunning stunt in mind. Will take some planning, but I have my opening already."

"Well, spill. What are you up to?"

John pulled a letter from his jacket pocket and held it up.

"This here is a letter from Angela's doctor. Seems she has a rash that the vane bint is worried about. Essentially the letter gives her the all-clear. But I found it before she did, so she does not know."

"So... What are you planning?"

"Gonna set up an appointment with a fake dermatologist. She's going to come up with an entirely different diagnosis."

"You bastard!"

"Me? After what the lass put me through. No man, the cow deserves it."

-*-

Angela sat in the waiting room and studied the magazine. She had found it in the pile of reading matter offered on the low table in the middle of the room. She'd rather be on her phone but annoyingly there was no signal in the room, and no public wifi offered either.

She was concerned that the stupid rash she had shown the doctor had landed her in a hospital clinic. That the appointment had been made by the consultant, and had not come from her own doctor, was unusual too.

John sat next to her, looking even more bored than she was. He had given her a lift over, finding himself out of the office, having been told to use up his holiday by his employer. Just two days, but it meant once they were out of here, they had a long weekend together if she milked this as a 'sicky'.

"Miss Attwell?"

Angela looked up to see a tall woman in a white coat standing in front of her.

"Yes, that's me."

"Wonderful, I'm Professor Boult, but please call me Sally." Looking at John, she asked, "Your husband?"

"My partner," answered Angela.

"How do you do, sir?" The professor held out her hand to John.

"Fine, thank you," replied John shaking her hand.

"Excellent," beamed the professor. "If you could both follow me." The couple followed the Doctor into her office. A nurse waited inside and smiled as they entered. Angela and John seated themselves in two chairs facing the desk. The doctor seated herself behind the desk.

The nurse quietly closed the office door and resumed her position to one side.

"So Angela, your GP referred you to me after getting the tests back from the rash that started on your inner thigh. Is that correct?"

"Yes, he said he thought it would pass in time but took samples to be safe. I must say, I was very surprised to get this referral without a second consultation with Dr Jones."

"That's actually my fault, Angela. I'm running a study on a new treatment for a new bug. As such, I've been screening all dermatological samples sent through this lab. When I got a positive from your sample, I contacted Dr Jones directly."

"That sounds very alarming," responded Angela, her face creased with fear, a hand reaching out for John's.

"I'll get straight to the point, Angela. You have contracted a rather serious infection. It is absolutely not life-threatening. But it could cause, if untreated, heavy scarring, disfigurement or in the most extreme cases blindness."

"Oh, my God! What will happen to me? What does it do?"

"I'm sorry, Angela, I really did not mean to scare you. I want to stress that the symptoms I just mentioned, would only occur if the condition was left untreated. I most certainly intend to treat you, and hope that you will remain completely symptom-free."

"I don't understand. Am I going to get sick or not?"

"Strictly speaking you are sick. The condition is serious, but not life-threatening. There is though, a treatment, and I'll not lie here, the treatment is arduous. However, if you follow the treatment plan to the letter, you ought to emerge on the other side of this event scar-free, and in perfect health."

"What is going to happen to me?" Wailed Angela.

"Before we get to that, let me explain your condition properly and then how we are going to treat it."

"Okay."

"You've contracted a new superbug that is resistant to antibiotics. I'm afraid they are getting more and more prevalent, and they are causing us quite a headache in the medical world.

"Your particular bug has yet to be named. It's part of the Streptococcus family and closely related to what the media likes to scare people by calling the flesh-eating bug. But essentially, yours is a photosensitive bacterium that damages arterial walls. It has several weaknesses, that we can exploit to rid you of this infection. Unfortunately for you, they are mostly physical regimes rather than drug therapies."

"What do I have to do? I'll do anything."

"First, we need to understand how it works. Light, almost certainly ultraviolet wavelengths, triggers the bacterium in your blood. This typically will happen when it passes through the skin or the eyes."

The professor continued, "Once active, it attacks the arterial wall. It is not active in the venal system nor, and we are not sure why, it does not attack the brain, heart or lungs. So the first treatment is simple; you must stay away from strong sources of light."

"Once it has caused a lesion in an arterial wall, the bacterium multiplies in the wound, causing puss-filled swellings and further ruptures. To stop these from developing, we need to keep your skin under compression. Typically a latex rubber membrane is used to do this. We can do this either post-rupture to minimise the damage or throughout the lifetime of the infection to prevent any outbreaks in the first place.

"To stop lesions occurring within your ears, mouth, rectum and vagina, these spaces will need to be kept under pressure similarly to the outer skin. Typically inflatable intrusions into these orifices will suffice, though the rectal item will necessitate a low-volume diet.

"Finally, to protect the aorta, kidneys and liver, the abdomen must be kept under as much compression as does not interfere with respiration or circulation. Also, the lower leg and foot will need extra compression due to the increased pressure when in an upright posture."

"This preventative rubber membrane... are we talking a rubber suit of some sort?"

"Angela, do you play kinky games in the bedroom?"

"What sort of question is that? Erm, no. John and I are not perverts if that's what you mean. Is this some sort of venereal disease?"

"No, Angela, it's not an STI. I asked as your treatment may have been easier to cope with if you had a latex fetish. This condition is so rare that much of the equipment used to treat it is sourced from specialist suppliers, that cater to those sorts of tastes.

"So I do have to dress up then?"

"Yes, Angela you do. Along with not going out during daylight hours, you will need to wear a tight latex suit twenty-four hours a day. You will also have a latex helmet or hood with heavily tinted lenses. The easiest way to compress the abdomen is with a corset. Plus, I will issue you with some specialist boots, that compress the foot and lower leg."

"Oh, my God! How bad does it get, if I don't do this?"

"I have here some pictures." The professor wordlessly handed over the pictures. Silently Angela looked through them. As she handed them back she was trembling.

"So obviously, I'm going to go through with the whole treatment. How long does it last?" She mustered.

"Angela, I am afraid the idea is to keep you under this regime until the bacteria have died. This will take some time. At least six months, perhaps a year, depending on how many lesions we detect."

Angela broke down in tears. "Okay, show me these clothes. We may as well get on with this."

"Angela, I had no intention of commencing your treatment immediately, you'll need to get ready first. Inform your employer, perhaps cut your hair. Plus, it would not be fair to send you home from the hospital looking like a cast member for a sex scene in a fifty shades movie."

"I don't care about that. After seeing those pictures, I don't want to go home unprotected."

"I quite understand Angela." Professor Boult turned to the nurse. "What do we have ready to go with straight away?"

"Nothing now, I'm afraid, Professor. However, I personally have a scarf and shades Angela could use on the journey home. Also, while I technically finish my shift in three hours, I could measure the patient now and be ready for a home visit in about six hours."

"Will that be acceptable, Angela?" Asked the professor.

"Why don't you have anything ready. If you had a diagnosis, why did you bring me in if you're unprepared?"

"Angela, try to be calm. I know this is all very unsettling news. We have nothing ready as the equipment needs to be made to measure. You have been walking around normally up till now. Twenty-four hours are unlikely to make much more difference. Especially as I suspect you're going to go home and stay there."

"I'm sorry, you're right. It's just those pictures are pretty frightening."

"There is no reason to apologise. Really." Sally smiled at Angela. "I'm just glad you are willing to proceed with the treatment. I was worried that you would be unwilling as you are asymptomatic so far. Not everyone is as sensible as you are."

"I'm very happy to be symptomless. I don't want even one of those... those pustule things in the pictures."

"Quite right too. Now, if you can just sign these consent forms. Then you can go with Nurse Vicky, she will measure you and tell you what you need to do to be ready."

Nurse Vicky had opened a side door through which Angela could see an examination table. Angela signed the forms with the offered pen.

Sally continued, "While you two are doing that I'll go over your care with your partner here so he knows what's involved and how he can help care for you at this time."

"Thank you, Sally," responded Angela as she stood and entered the examination room.

As soon as the door closed behind the pair John made a comical face of exaggerated surprise and vigorously fist-pumped the air. Sally just grinned back.

"That was awesome!" Enthused John.

"Told you I could pull it off." Responded Sally.

"Who's the nurse? I wasn't expecting her."

"Friend of mine and, as it happens, owner of the shop that'll be providing most of the gear."

"A dominatrix like you?"

"No, well sort of, Vicky likes to switch. But when I told her of your plans, she insisted on being part of the sting. She's going to make house visits regularly throughout this prank. I'll visit too, to check up on my patient's progress."

"Genius! How long do you think we can keep Ange in the dark?"

"Given how well that went, I figure you could run the whole thing right up to her getting an all-clear."

"Oh, that'd be perfect. Can you imagine her face after six months dressed as a gimp hiding in the dark! It'll be priceless."

"I said it at the start; this seems to me to be an extreme prank."

"Her last stunt had me thinking she had died from falling out of a tower block window. I sobbed down thirty flights of stairs, thinking I had lost her and was on my way to inspect her bloody corpse. She has this coming."

"Well, I just hope it does not break you two up."

"Is my money good?"

"More than... In fact, Vicky came up with a suggestion, that would be a little more of an expense, that would make night times more interesting..."

-*-

Once in the examining room, the nurse smiled at Angela as she closed the door.

"Okay Angela, could I ask you to strip naked and then put on this gown?" The nurse held up the ubiquitous backless gown.

Angela started to remove her clothes.

"So you are bringing this rubber gear around to mine this evening then?" Asked Angela.

"Yes, once I have your measurements I'm confident I can source the necessary equipment. Do you think you can have your hair styled by then?"

"Do I really have to cut my hair short?"

"No one is making you do anything, Angela. But long hair, when you are wearing a rubber hood for over half the day, every day... Well, it'll get old pretty fast."

"My usual hairdresser does not take walk in's and I doubt I could get such a quick appointment."

"I know a good hairdresser who owes me a favour. One moment."

The nurse lifted the receiver of a wall-mounted phone and quickly dialled a number.

"Trish!", she exclaimed when the call went through. "I've got a favour to ask... Yeah, I know. Listen, I've a friend in need of a complete restyle. Only she has an unusual illness. Essentially she's become allergic to sunlight... Yes, that is unusual, but it's not much fun either. So my friend needs a pixie cut before this evening, in your back room away from bright lights. Can you do that?"

Whatever the response Vicky smiled and gave a thumbs up at Angela.

"That's great, Trish. I'll send her around to yours after she's finished here with me... Yeah, we're not even yet, but this is a step in the right direction. Bye, love."

"I take it you've got me an appointment?" Asked Angela.

"Yeah, I hope that wasn't too presumptive?"

"Not at all. You know all about this, not me. So what else needs to change apart from my hair?"

"Actually I only know about this because I have a bit of a latex fetish of my own. When Sally found out she got me transferred to her team. Apparently, in the last trial, they tried using neoprene wetsuits. They had good results but not perfect."

"How the hell did they know that this would work?"

"Plastics had good results treating burn scarring. As to who hit on the idea initially I'm afraid I don't know. Now getting back to the task at hand can I see your fingernails please?"

Angela lifted her hands for inspection.

"They're nice but I'm afraid they are too long," judged Vicky. "I'm going to have to trim them."

"Let me guess; sharp nails and thin rubber don't mix?"

"Pretty much, though since your hands are going to be covered in latex you'll not need to paint your nails for a while." Vicky produced a pair of small scissors and started trimming Angela's nails.

"So what's it like?"

"What's what like?"

"Wearing latex rubber. To date, I've only worn rubber gloves for washing up. Plus that was some years ago before we got a dishwasher."

"Ahh, well obviously I like it. I like the way it grips, squeezes and pulls. I also really love the way I look in it too. It really shows off the assets as it were. Looking at your figure I think you'll enjoy that aspect too."

"So do you think John will like me that way?"

"Your man? Depends on his tastes. I'm sure you have a better idea of those than I do. Has he ever hinted he wanted to explore kinky things before?"

"No, not really. I know he loves me. But mostly sex has been a heated affair after one of us has pranked the other?"

"Pranked?"

"We play practical jokes on each other and post them on the net. Our site has quite a lot of subscribers. I'm up at the moment." Angela grinned.

"I fooled him into thinking I'd fallen to my death." She continued. "Took loads of organising. Cameras, rigging, a dummy, plus access to the room below ours. In the end, John saw me fall from a high window. By the time he crossed the room I was back in the window below, and he was looking at a dummy dressed the same as me thirty stories below in a spreading pool of blood."

"Jesus! How can you trust each other? I'd be on edge all the time, frightened something was about to happen."

"I get what you're saying, but the adrenaline rush after is a trip."

"Even so. I mean weren't you sitting in that office just now thinking, 'Is this him pranking me?'"

"Actually I was. But I think that's just because I didn't want to accept how horrible the situation is. But we're in a real hospital, in the outpatients' clinic. The professor's office has not been hastily put together. You are a real nurse. I know doctors take oaths and would not collude in a prank. Plus, what I've been told jells with other things I know. My gran had rubber support stockings. I've seen a documentary on the telly about burn victims wearing rubber hoods to smooth scarring. I also had a friend once, who had a condition called Lupus. She didn't go out in the sun. Said it caused flare-ups." Angela gestured with her free hand, waving it loosely at the ceiling. "Plus, there are no cameras."

"Cameras?"

"If this were a prank, John would have cameras set up to record this. No point otherwise."

"Of course! Silly me. But that's pretty paranoid that you're looking for them."

"I suppose. But I started the pranking."

"I should warn you the professor uses a camera to record the results of her trials. To document the process. A sort of video diary. Not sure she would be happy if you start excitedly claiming it's all a prank."

"Thanks but I'm looking for hidden Go-pro's not a doc talking to a tripod-mounted camera."

"She may give you one to keep a video diary on too."

"Cool, that seems a good idea. That way I won't have to worry I forgot to say something when I see her. I'm always walking out of the doctor's office and then remembering a symptom I forgot to mention."

"This is going to be tough, Angela. You do understand that don't you?"

"I think so. I'll admit I'm just focusing on the clothing at the moment. I can't imagine how it's going to impact daily life."

Vicky put down the scissors and picked up a tape measure. She started taking measurements and noting the results on a clipboard.

"Even most fetishists don't wear latex twenty-four-seven," advised Vicky. "Most just put it on while they are role-playing. A weekend at the most, usually just a few hours. You're going from zero to one hundred miles an hour. Straight in at the deep end. Total enclosure twenty-four-seven. There are lots of latex lovers who fantasise about that. But few with the determination to do so."

"I don't need determination though, do I? If I don't do this, I will be sick for longer and probably scarred for life."

"I just think that even that knowledge may not be enough to keep you on the program. You'll start bargaining with yourself, 'a day without the hood and gag won't hurt.' Then it'll be a little longer or no corset."

"You think so little of me?" There was an edge of anger in Angela's voice. "You hardly know me."

"Not at all. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. It's just I know how hard this can be."

"So why are you saying this? Are you trying to freak me out?"

"No, I said... look, I'm trying to help, okay. I'm measuring you for this stuff now. I'm the one who will be placing the order and picking it up."

"So?"

"So it comes from a specialist bondage shop. I can have them make it hard to take off by yourself. You'll need your partner to help. That could stop you from caving when on your own."

"Oh!... I see... That's actually quite a good idea. It's Vicky, isn't it? Vicky, I'm sorry I was short with you. Please do get the stuff that way. You're right, I'm almost certainly going to need lots of support from John."

"It'll also allow you to turn this into a sex game rather than a horrible medical procedure."

"I don't know about that, but if I have to ask John to help me take the stuff off, that'll help stiffen my resolve."