From Roué 14
I was bored. The operation on my ear had been perfectly straightforward, they said, but the specialist wanted to leave the packing in for a couple more days. I didn’t mind that, you understand, it was just that there wasn’t anything to do once I had read the Daily Telegraph and done what I could of the crosswords except lie back and think of such weighty matters as did the nurses wear black tights or stockings? That, slightly simplified, was my main reason for choosing this particular private hospital; its founder obviously preferred his nurses to look like nurses. None of that N.H.S. nylon overall and paper cap nonsense here, but well-cut blue and white striped dresses shaped to the bust and tight across the bottom, white immaculately-starched cotton aprons, the waist emphasised by the wide black belt, and the whole ensemble topped by that little white cap with the frill at the back… he obviously knew what he liked and I certainly wouldn’t quarrel with his taste. Particularly when the uniform was being worn by Jenny… or Anne… or Linda…
There was a definite advantage to having your own private room; you could chat up the little darlings without having to keep a lookout for other patients or porters or such. It was Jenny on today, perhaps the prettiest little dolly of them all, about five foot four, smooth dark hair cut fairly short, and a lovely figure. She had seemed somewhat distraite this morning when she brought in my breakfast, and I had been able to reach out and stroke her lovely rounded bottom before she drew back out of range. She’s due to bring in my morning medicine any time now…
A tap on the door… and yes, it is she. My cheerful ‘Hello Jenny darling’ brings the usual slight blush to her cheeks but she still seems somewhat preoccupied. I feast my eyes on the beautiful shape of her bust highlighted by her white bib. Just right, neither too little nor too much. She glances at my notes and then goes to measure out my dosage of pain-killer. It’s in liquid form and I’m down to about five mils, in fact I haven’t really any ache to speak of now but I don’t want to deprive myself of her visits. To my surprise she measures ten spoonfuls of the stuff into my glass; I know that a spoonful is five mils so I’m going to get ten times too much.
‘Jenny, darling,’ I say. ‘Should I be getting as much as that?’
‘Your notes say today’s dose is fifty mils,’ she replies.
‘Are you sure?’ I say. She clicks her tongue and picks up my notes, has a quick look, then looks more closely and seems to go a bit pale. ‘I thought it said five oh,’ she says.
I think quickly. ‘That could have been a bit nasty,’ I say, ‘A mistake like that. What were you thinking of?’
‘I don’t know,’ she replies, holding the glass as if she doesn’t know what to do with it. There is an uncomfortable pause for a moment or two and I begin to wonder if I can get anything out of the situation she has got herself in.
‘A very silly mistake,’ I say, watching her face closely. ‘I ought to tell Sister…’ and I let my voice die away.
She goes definitely paler. ‘Please don’t,’ she whispers.
‘Why not?’ I enquire, though I have a fairly good idea. The Sister on duty today seems to be a bit of a martinet and all the nurses go in fear of her.
‘Sister punishes girls who make stupid mistakes,’ Jenny whispers.
‘So I should think,’ I say ‘How exactly?’
Jenny blushes. ‘She c-canes th-them,’ she stutters after a few moments. My pulse quickens. The idea of Jenny bending over, dress up and knickers down, is very arousing, and the situation, I feel, holds definite possibilities. ‘So you’d rather I didn’t tell Sister,’ I say after a few moments thought.
‘Please don’t,’ she begs.
‘But that mistake could have had unpleasant consequences for me,’ I say.
‘Actually I don’t think it would, it wasn’t a strong painkiller; however…’
‘… And you should be punished.’ She is silent, twisting her apron between her hands, blushing. I wait a few seconds and then continue ‘I wouldn’t have to tell Sister if…’ and she looks up at me ‘… if I spanked you myself,’ I finish. She blushes even more redly and looks down, refusing to meet my eyes. I give her a moment to think about it. ‘No-one would need to know,’ I say. ‘Is anyone going to come looking for you in the next few minutes?’
I hold my breath waiting for her answer.
‘No,’ she says slowly, and inwardly I let out a sigh of relief and anticipation.
‘I should put up the Do Not Disturb sign,’ I say, and she walks slowly over to the door and hangs up the notice. There is a curtain over the window in the door so no-one will be able to look in. I admire the swell of her bum under her tight dress and become even more aroused. She turns back towards me, still avoiding my eyes.
‘Take your knickers off,’ I say, matter-of-factly. She hesitates for a moment and I wonder whether I have gone too far, then she reaches down and gathers up her dress and apron, turning away from me as she does so. My earlier thoughts are answered — she is wearing stockings. She has exquisitely shapely legs, thighs full but not fat, calves with a lovely smooth curve from knee to the back of her ankles. I get off the bed, gather up the pillows and place them on the end of the bed. Without a word, her face suffused with blushes, she bends forward onto them. I admire the shape of her bust for a few moments then walk round behind her and draw her dress up over her back. She has a beautiful bottom, the cheeks full and firm. I lightly caress the silky skin and gently squeeze the cheeks. She twitches and gives a little gasp. I start to smack her before she can change her mind about it all — not too hard, the last thing I want to do is actually hurt her. The cheeks are lovely and resilient under my hand and slowly turn pink and then red as I spank; she starts to gasp and jerk as the colour deepens. I smack the lovely roundness at the top of her thighs until they too are rosy red, then move back to the lower curves of her bottom. By now she is making little whimpering sounds and trying to pull forward as my hand comes down.
‘Feet a bit further apart, Jenny,’ I say; she hesitates and I bring my hand down with a little more weight to it. She gasps and moves her feet, her thighs opening to reveal her sex. I smack her bottom a few more times, more gently, then stop, and start to stroke it, relishing the feel of the hot satiny skin under my fingers. She continues to rock slightly from side to side, panting. I stroke inside the tops of her thighs and she quivers, then I stroke between her thighs and she gasps. She is hot and damp and moving more regularly. I reach out my left hand and slip it under her bib, cupping her left breast and tickling it through her dress. She jerks back against my right hand and gasps ‘Please… please…’ I move behind her and enter her, leaning forward over her to reach under her bib and caress her breasts. The feel of her hot bottom against me is fantastic. She comes with a little cry and then I come too. I stay bent over her stroking her as her spasms subside then withdraw and pull up my pyjama trousers as she slowly straightens up and turns round. She is still blushing and looking down at her feet; I put my finger under her chin, lift her head back and kiss her gently, her arms come up round my neck.
‘You won’t tell Sister now,’ she whispers.
‘Tell her what?’ I enquire. She smiles shyly, picks up her knickers and puts them in her pocket while I put the pillows back. At the door she turns round to me and I blow her a kiss.She gives me a saucy smile and goes out…