Robin's Problem

This next story was picked at here and there for a while. It is mostly soft-core (but not all) and never gets too descriptive in the sex scenes. I bit of ENF, exhibitionism and silliness. I didn't really edit it much, so there's gonna be mistakes, but hopefully not too may.

It's a campy story with loads of fake science, ridiculous situations and embarrassing moments for our heroine. It could have been fleshed out much more with the extra characters, but I decided to cut it short, as it's too long already. Hope you enjoy. Feel free to butcher me in the comments. I'm getting used to it. :)

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ROBIN'S PROBLEM

For over three months, Robin McGhee had suffered a terrible body rash. From the neck down, her skin was red, splotchy and itchy. As much as Robin tried to keep from scratching, she simply couldn't resist. Her nails always seemed to find their way into her skin throughout the course of each day While providing some temporary relief, the act of scratching mostly just served to inflame the condition.

Robin dared not wear shorts or t-shirts in public as her rash had spread completely over her body, save for her face. Considering her role as a local cable news anchor, if the rash had appeared above her neckline, she wouldn't have been able to continue working.

Dr. Philip Guillermo was the best-rated dermatologist in the city and after discovering him online, Robin had scheduled an emergency appointment. That very day, the doctor got her in his office and subjected her to a battery of tests. He prescribed a mild anti-inflammatory while waiting for the results from the lab to come back. Now, two weeks later, as Robin once again found herself in the lobby of Dr. Guillermo's office, she prayed he had discovered the source of her problem. The anti-inflammatory had done nothing to improve her situation.

"Robin," said a petite nurse, appearing from the hallway, "The doctor can see you now."

Robin picked up her purse and followed the young nurse to the back, where the main consultation office was located. The doctor was seated behind a large, cherry-wood desk and he waved Robin in while signaling for the nurse to leave.

"Robin, nice to see you again!" he said, not getting up. "You may have a seat."

Robin sat down, taking the opportunity to scratch her itchy back against the hard leather of the chair. The action was habitual by this point.

"Robin, we ran blood tests, skin tests, allergy tests... everything. We threw the book at this problem. I want you to know we do have some good news, but it's tricky." Though of Spanish origin, Dr. Guillermo carried a thick Italian accent, having spent most of his youth and there. He'd moved to America during university for an internship and never left.

Robin was thrilled to hear there was good news coming and let out a sigh of relief, yet it appeared the doctor was holding back. She sensed a degree of hesitation in his voice. "So does that mean there is a cure?"

"Oh yes, of that I'm confident!" exclaimed the doctor, smiling back while Robin let out another deep sigh. "Your cure will happen, but it will take effort on your part."

As he spoke, the doctor looked Robin up and down. At 32, she really was a "knock-out" in every sense of the term. Well, at least when her skin wasn't so irritated. She had full and firm breasts, a thin waist, a flat stomach, nice curves at the hips and a striking face. She could best be described as sharp in features, but soft in appearance. Perhaps having no children helped to explain the longevity of her youthful figure. Staying active, while wearing the right kinds of sports bras had probably helped, too. It seemed gravity had a lot of work in store before showing any signs of taking its toll.

Dr. Guillermo stood up, walked to the front edge of his desk and propped against it. "Robin, you have a condition known as Desparo's Disease.".

"Excuse me? What disease?" asked Robin. She didn't like the term "disease" being thrown around.

"Desparo's Disease," the doctor reiterated. "Desparo was a mythical Mayan god. It's where the name derives from, is all. The legend is he could not wear clothes, for any fabric would burn his skin. He'd been cursed at birth."

"Uh... tell me how a mythical god's ailments would affect me?"

"Oh, it's only where the name of the disease comes from. The story isn't actually true, of course, but you do have a skin disorder similar to his legend. It's a rare disease you were actually born with... the result of an unusual gene mutation. The good news is this disease causes nothing more than what you're currently experiencing. It is not fatal in nature.

"In fact, even though some people with this gene mutation have the disease, it often isn't as bad as your particular case. Many people don't manifest symptoms of it until well into their 50s or 60s. Some never show any ill effects at all. Robin, I'm afraid you're just one of the unlucky ones."

"What exactly do you mean, doctor?" asked Robin. "Will I have to take some medication or go through a surgery or something?"

"Unfortunately, there is no one-time, permanent solution."

"I thought you said I could be cured."

"Allow me to clarify. It's not so much a cure, but rather a treatment. You see, your skin, like the legend Desparo, reacts badly to fabric. Think of it as an allergy to any kind of fabric, really."

"What? You must be joking."

"Unfortunately, I am not. At best, one-hundred percent cotton fabrics may be the least irritating material for you. Even still, prolonged contact with any fabric will likely cause swelling, redness, itchiness... everything you've been experiencing for some time now."

"But, doctor. It started just all of a sudden, just a few months ago. Certainly..."

The doctor cut her off. "As I said, Miss McGhee, it just comes up when it comes up. You've had this gene mutation since the day you were born. Perhaps the symptoms are triggered by some biological event or an immune system deficiency. We really don't know for sure. I will say it's rare to show up in one so young, but it's not unheard of. About one in seventy million are afflicted like you are. Being so rare, it's why it took as all this time to discover the source of your problem. We ruled out everything else first, believe me."

"Well, if no medicine exists for this, how can you cure ... uh, I mean, treat me?" Robin, incredulous, leaned further back in the chair. She was visibly upset at there not being a pill or a shot that would resolve the issue.

"Robin, if you want to be free of the rash completely, we are going to have to determine just how sensitive your skin is to fabric. Specifically, pure cotton fabric, as that will be the only material you should wear from this point forward. I am very sorry if you favor others."

Robin was currently wearing a polyester and cotton mix blouse. Not exactly silky and fancy, but certainly not as casual as most full-cotton garments.

"Unbleached denim will be okay, as it's made from cotton," continued the doctor. "Any other cotton shorts, pants or skirts. But I'll warn you, once you're cleared up, rash-free, I highly recommend you wear as little as possible, even when you do wear clothing. Keep contact with the skin to a minimum."

"What do you mean when I wear clothing?" asked Robin.

"Robin, in order to clear the rash, you will have to stop wearing clothes entirely for a period of time. In the advanced state like it is now, it might take at least four or five days for your skin to clear up. That is, with the help of some prescription topical medicine we will provide. It's a cream that helps speed the healing of the rash along significantly. Otherwise, it would probably take two weeks or more to heal up. And again, that's only on the condition you leave your skin free from touching fabrics."

Robin paused, letting this sink in. Finally, she asked. "So there is a medicine, though? You said so."

"Only to treat the rash, not the disease. It's a cream." said Dr. Guillermo. "And you must follow the application precisely or it could actually make a flare-up even worse. You see, this cream raises your pH balance dramatically. It serves as a catalyst to the healing. If you don't apply it routinely, any sharp drops in your pH level could aggravate the situation significantly. Do not fail to apply every four hours until the rash is completely gone."

The doctor reached behind him and handed Robin a very large, brown tube. Other than some simple text printed on it, there were no fancy graphics. Definitely pharmaceutical prescription, rather than over-the-counter.

"So I need to apply every day, every four hours?"

"Exactly. From morning until night, and until the rash is completely gone. Don't wear clothes and apply the cream into your skin liberally. Once cleared up, if a rash begins to develop, begin using the cream on it immediately. When used early in a break-out, it can work in a matter of hours, rather than days. That's powerful stuff you got there in your hands."

"So how am I supposed to work if I can't wear clothes?" asked Robin.

Robin lived alone in her own home, so prancing around naked there was doable. However, being a television anchor posed a major problem. She was WQTV's best asset and she explained this to the doctor. Their evening ratings were dwarfed in comparison to the major networks, but it was the highest rated program among all the local cable channels.

"Obviously, we'll have to inform your bosses that you need a two or three-week medical leave starting immediately. During this this, we will get your skin cleared up, and hopefully have enough time to discover how long you can tolerate wearing fabric each day without having flare-ups.

"For now, if you don't want a rash, you're going to have to get accustomed to living in the nude, I'm sorry to say. Not to mention, even when you sleep, laying on your sheets could prove an issue. Try not to sleep for more than six or seven hours for the time being. Sitting down for prolonged periods will also be an issue. Thankfully, you're in terrific shape and should be able to manage being on your feet all day. Might take some getting used to, though. Your life is going to change, Ms. McGhee. Dramatically for a temporary period, but with good behaviors moving forward, it will hopefully only be a minimal nuisance."

Robin didn't like what she was hearing and was wondering if she needed a second opinion. "Are you sure there isn't anything else we can do?" she asked. This whole situation sounded terrible to her!

The doctor got up from his desk and gave Robin a long stare. "We need to show you how to apply the cream properly, Ms. McGhee. You may also need help getting it coated on your back. Allow me to call the nurse in. You may remove your clothes once she arrives."

The doctor stepped out of the room and Robin sat motionless, stunned thinking this terrible news over in her head. For a brief moment, her mind was so overwhelmed she'd forgotten how itchy her skin felt. If anything, it would be nice to get over this. It had been too many months of agony. A moment later, the doctor and escorted the young nurse from the front desk into the room.

"Ms. McGhee. Please, stand up and remove your clothes."

Robin stood up and reluctantly began stripping. She didn't like showing off her inflamed skin to others, but had already done it once before in front of him, when first being examined a couple weeks ago. He was a doctor, she thought, and surely he was used to this. A minute later, she stood before the doctor and nurse stark naked. If her body hadn't been so blotchy and irritated, it would have been a wondrous sight to behold, not that it was all that bad even with the skin condition.

"Go ahead and put a healthy amount of cream in your hands," said the doctor, handing the tube to Robin. "It is vitally important you don't miss an inch. Again, apply liberally and we'll see where you have the most trouble putting it on."

Robin was quite flexible. After spreading the cream all on her front side, she reached behind and managed to get all but the upper-middle portion of her back. It took her about five minutes to cover her body entirely, and secretly, both the doctor and the nurse very much enjoyed watching her actions. He may have been a doctor, but Peter Guillermo still appreciated the sight of a beautiful figure. Watching Robin rub the thick cream into her firm fleshy mounds almost caused an erection. He was barely able to maintain professionalism, yet he needed to be sure she did exactly as instructed.

Dr. Guillermo erred on the side of safety and allowed the nurse to apply the cream on the one remaining area of Robin's back that Robin herself could not reach, just above her bra line.

"You may want a family member or friend do this for you. Absolutely no irritated area should go untouched. Understood?"

Robin nodded meekly at the doctor, but couldn't imagine asking her brother to help rub this into her skin, and he was the only family around. She didn't have a boyfriend.

The nurse spoke up. "You can probably get an applicator for your back. Like the ones used for baths."

"Grand idea, Shelly," said the doctor. "In the meantime, Robin, you're going to have to stay naked until you are all cleared up. Sleep on pure, cotton fabric and no more than seven hours at a time. Less, if possible. Outside of that, keep away from any fabrics touching your skin, until you are completely healed. Afterwards, we'll experiment with allowing you to wear clothes for a few hours each day and getting more sleep, monitoring closely."

Robin's mind was exploding. Here she was, buck naked in front of her doctor and his nurse, being told she wouldn't get to wear clothes like anyone else on the planet. It was completely unfair!

"Ms. McGhee, did you drive yourself here today?" asked Dr. Guillermo.

Robin nodded. Did they really expect her to drive home naked? Were they crazy?

"Give Shelly your keys. I'll have her pull your car behind the building. You can make your way out unnoticed. Put your shoes on and you can throw the rest of your clothes in here." The doctor handed Robin a large plastic bag he procured from one of the cabinets.

Flustered, Robin did as she was told without protest and found herself driving the eleven miles home stark naked, bewildered she was in this position. Just before she'd left, Dr. Guillermo hastily handed Robin some reading materials regarding Desparo's Disease that he'd printed. He also gave her a doctor's note explaining her condition which was to be kept on her person at all times should she need to explain her nudity to anyone. Especially, if God forbid, a police officer pulled her over. The doctor promised he would call WQTV and explain the situation to her boss, Dan Freeman. Not that she'd be working there much longer, thought Robin, as she drove home in her daze, afraid of what the future held.

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Robin tried not to think about how humiliating it had been riding in the buff all the way home. Traffic was heavy and more than a few people caught glimpses of her nudity. One man even made lewd gestures at her and Robin did her best to cover herself with her arms.

Once parked in her drive, she ran into the house at full speed, hoping no neighbors were looking out the windows. Fortunately, she lived in a modest, middle-class home, rather than an apartment complex and it was a relatively quiet neighborhood.

Four hours later, as Robin stood in the kitchen applying her second application of the cream, there was a knock on the door and a turn of the handle. In Robin's haste, she'd forgotten to lock the door.

"Hey, Robin," yelled a voice. With only a hallway between the foyer and the kitchen, Robin clearly made it out to be Jonathon, her brother.

'Oh, damn it!' thought Robin. 'It's Tuesday night!'

Jon came over every Tuesday to visit and watch movies. It was their way of staying close, even though they'd both been out of their parents' home for some years now.

"Jon, stay in there! Or go to the living room!" screamed Robin. "I'm in the kitchen and will be a minute!"

"Well, why can't I come in there?" asked Jon.

Before Robin could respond, Jon stepped into the room.

"Oh my God, Jon! I said go to the living room!" This time Robin yelled even louder.

"What in hell are you doing?" And it was then that Jon caught the obvious sight of his sister's irritated skin condition. "Oh, Robin, what happened?"

Robin, realizing she wouldn't be able to hide from this forever and quickly explained the situation, making little attempt to cover herself while her brother looked on at her blotchy skin. She was comforted knowing he was expressing true concern, though.

"Robin, I am so sorry, that's just terrible. I wonder if I should get checked. But... uh... well, look, if you don't want me around, I understand."

"I don't guess it matters, Jon. If it did, it would probably mean I wouldn't see you that much, if ever. If the hours out of my day I can wear clothing are so limited, I may as well reserve that for when I'm only out of the house. Besides, you're my brother. If the roles were reversed, I'd understand and I wouldn't make you feel bad about it. I know you understand."

"That's right, sis," said Jon. "Don't worry about it. I'll even help as much I can. If you need me to run errands for you, whatever."

"Thanks, Jon. I really appreciate it."

"For now, just take a couple weeks and clear that misery up," said Jon. "You must be anxious to be rid of all that rash. I'll do the grocery shopping and drop by each night to make sure you don't need anything."

"You don't have to do that," said Robin.

"Eh, don't worry about it."

Jon opened the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. Though he remained calm and supportive, he had to admit he certainly didn't mind seeing his sister naked. It didn't necessarily turn him on in a twisted, incestuous way, but she was an attractive woman. With those beautiful curves and long legs, she was eye candy to anyone. Nevertheless, he had no intention of mentioning that to her, being her brother.

With the exception of Robin standing naked for the entire visit, the rest of the night went like any other she and Jon shared together, enjoying a movie and cracking jokes. In the dim light of the TV, Jon couldn't make out too much of Robin's rash problem, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he was thinking how much more he was going to enjoy their time together in the future.

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Dan Freeman wasn't thrilled about how things had been going at WQTV over the past two weeks. With Robin off for medical leave, he'd had to fill in her slot with Theresa Dempsey. Theresa was a pretty girl, thin and young, but too inexperienced to hold an audience's attention like Robin.

Dan had been made aware of Robin's condition, from several talks he'd had with her over the phone, as well as a personal call from her doctor. Dan had been forgiving of her unique problem, but with ratings dropping fast, if he didn't get her back in the anchor's chair soon, he'd have to find a permanent replacement; someone more capable than Theresa.

Just then, Margaret Pennywise, Dan's personal assistant of over six years, walked into the office. Margaret was nearing fifty, but held it together for a woman her age. With her confident swagger and well-defined physique earned by hours spent every day at the gym, she could have passed for someone fifteen years younger.

"Robin's on her way," said Margaret, handing Dan a thick stack of papers. "Here are the ratings results from last week... and a list of advertisers who've bailed on us since the report came out."

Word was already spreading. That's the last thing Dan wanted to hear. He was relieved Robin was stopping by the office today.

"She'd better be ready by Monday," he muttered to Margaret, as his secretary began heading out of the office. Monday was four days away; the date Robin and he had agreed to have her return.