I was in hospital for a back complaint - nothing serious but something that required physiotherapy, and some pain-killing injections.
It wasn’t long before I began to suspect that one or two of the nurses were not lust simply treating me for my back, although at first I could not be sure and did not like to risk raising the matter with the physician or house doctor.
It was about the third day that it seemed to me that something a little out of the ordinary was happening to me at their hands.
Let me first, however, describe the nurses in question.
One of them stood out for she wore large round-rimmed glasses. She was tall, dark and not the sort to suffer fools gladly. Her colleague was fair, always wore the full nurse’s uniform, but with an extremely short skirt that showed everything. The tall, dark one turned out to be a Sister, while the other was a nurse. Their names - later found out - were Sister Henderson and Nurse Jorgensen.
The first two days were as one would have expected. I was taken for treatment to the physiotherapy room where my back was massaged and other tests made. I was also given an injection that made me slightly drowsy.
But on the third day I was taken by Nurse Jorgensen to a deserted ward, with two empty beds. I was led to one of them and a few minutes later Sister Henderson came in, locking the door after her. This was the first thing that struck me as a little unusual.
My first reaction was that they had found out something about me that they had not told me about and that they were going to start some special treatment. But that very morning I had asked the doctor how I was getting along and he had assured me that everything was going according to plan: ‘Another few days and you’ll be a hundred per cent,’ he said. ‘All the tests for anything other than what we are treating you for have proved negative. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.’
The Sister and Nurse came over and took the clothes off the bed leaving me naked. And then Sister Henderson sat at my side, telling me to lie face down.
She started some gentle massage and this continued for a few minutes, after which she nodded to the Nurse who came over with a syringe and stuck the needle in my rump.
Now what happened after that is something of a mystery. I seemed to pass out but not entirely. Unless I dreamt it the Sister then pushed me onto my back and seemed to fiddle with my balls. I cannot be certain of this but when I eventually came to my balls were hurting and I noticed a slight bruise on one side of my scrotum.
Well, I said nothing about it to the doctor for I assumed that during the massage, either before or after I passed out, I was accidentally knocked there. That would account for the bruise and I dismissed as a dream my idea that the two of them had turned me on my back and pummeled me when I was asleep.
However the next day I was taken to the room again and, as before, the door was locked by Sister Henderson when she came in.
This time there was no doubt that something out of the ordinary was happening to me.
They put me on my tummy and began to twist my arms behind my back, asking me to tell them when it hurt me. I could not possibly see how this could affect my back but they assured me what they were doing was necessary. When Sister Henderson twisted my arm until I was almost in tears and I told her so, she gave it a further twist that sent a pain shooting through my body.
Then they turned to my bottom and began to pummel it with their fists.
‘That’s one way of releasing the pressure on your coccyx, said the Sister.
‘I’m afraid I don’t like it,’ I told her. ‘Well, anything that stimulates the blood in your buttocks and takes your mind away from the nagging pain in your spine,’ she said. ‘It makes no difference. For instance 1 could use a strap or even a whip on you; it would be just as good.’
Now this stuck some sort of chord in my mind. I remembered how one of the senior mistresses at my prep. school had taken me to her room one day and given me a caning on my bare bottom. This was strictly against the rules but as it gave me a peculiar sensation of pleasure I never told anyone about it. Suddenly the memory came flooding back and I wondered what it would be like if Sister Henderson gave me a caning.
I did not dare to ask her as I was unwilling at the time to let them think I wanted any such thing. But she had said that the stimulating and relaxing effect would be the same by whatever means they worked on my bottom so I ventured to bring the subject round to suggesting she used a cane.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘I simply hate the way you are thumping my bottom. If you say other ways are as good then for heaven’s sake use a cane or something a ruler, anything. But not your fists.’ It worked like magic.
‘We have a cane in the store room, Nurse,’ said Sister Henderson. ‘Let’s try that tomorrow. It may be even more stimulating.
The following day I was taken at a different time to the empty ward. Once again the door was locked when Sister Henderson entered and once again they had me face down while they twisted my arm and pummeled me. Then Sister produced the cane.
‘I’ve got a cane,’ she said, ‘and I’m going to use it on you. I don’t know whether it will be any easier for you but you’ll have to go through with it once I start. I really want to get your bottom infused with blood, drawing it away from the muscles close to your spine and coccyx.
I believed what she was saying was likely to be true simply because I had no reason to doubt it. Moreover, although I had given them no indication of my feelings, I was now eager to be caned again after all these years. I felt the cane strike me a moment later and the picture of the schoolmistress, Miss Gorman, caning me in her study came flooding back so realistically that for a moment I thought I was in her study again.
And then as Sister struck me a second time I remembered how Miss Gorman had deliberately dropped her skirt at this stage, muttering something about it being so hot, and I had seen a woman’s knickers for the first time. Although I had not reached puberty at the time I felt a tingling in my cock and later I found that my trousers were slightly wet.
The same thing now happened again, however different the circumstances, for as Sister Henderson continued to bring the cane down on my bottom I began to get an erection and I was soon almost enjoying what she was doing to me.
I got the impression that Sister Henderson was also enjoying using the cane on me. She had every excuse for I had more or less asked for it so I had no grounds for complaint. What, of course, she didn’t know was that her caning me had brought back certain memories - those of my first sexual experience and, therefore, in reliving that experience I was again roused sexually.
I didn’t want Sister Henderson nor Nurse Jorgensen to realize what was happening so I kept still, my swollen prick under my belly, my face buried in a pillow as the cane continued to come down on me, warming and stimulating my bottom and sending waves of excitement surging through my genitals.
I think it was probably lucky that Sister Henderson felt she had given me enough for one day or I would most likely have ejaculated, so intense were the sensations brought about by the caning which had acted as a catalyst to revive my early memories. She had put down the cane and I had time before being told to replace my dressing-gown for my penis to slacken.
I knew that there was something strange about the way I was taken to the spare ward, the door locked and given a beating by the Sister, but I had been unable to find an explanation. Perhaps, after all, it might be true what she said about the stimulant of pummeling or beating my bottom having a salutary effect on the tension in my spine. But, by this time, I no longer cared for I wanted to undergo a further caning for it had given me an almost traumatic experience. At the time I did not realize that I might have enjoyed the caning even if it had not brought back the memory of my first sexual experience.
I waited eagerly for Nurse Jorgensen to take me to the ward next day and I was pleased to see that Sister Henderson was already there, and that a cane lay across the spare bed.
I lay face down as usual and the two nurses stood over me. Instead of the caning, however, they started the arm twisting again, bringing me to a point of tears. Pretending to massage me they forced my arms back and behind my head as they simultaneously worked on my shoulders. Then Sister Henderson gave me an injection.
I think I must have blacked out shortly afterwards and I have no real idea of what happened to me. But when I came round I was on my back and I feel certain that I had ejaculated for there was a slight dribble from my flaccid penis.
The two women looked at me eagerly, as if sharing some common secret. When they were satisfied that I was fully recovered from whatever treatment they had administered Sister Henderson said that she was ready to cane me again. I was a little hazy about what was going on but soon I recalled everything and lay face down, quite eager to receive the cane on my behind.
The strange thing was that I found it extremely painful and it did not affect me in the least as on the previous occasion. But this made no difference as far as Sister Henderson was concerned for she thrashed me with all the energy she could muster until I was crying out, begging her to stop. It was then that Nurse Jorgensen came over and held me down so that the Sister could continue to bring the cane down savagely across my swollen buttocks as I struggled to get up.
I felt certain that things had got out of control for this could hardly be part of my treatment, and I think I must have worried Sister Henderson when I said I would have to ask the doctor whether it was essential for her to strike me so fiercely for she put down the cane at once.
‘There is no need to say anything to the doctor,’ she said. ‘I am now in charge of the physiotherapy department and I know what is required. Just leave it to us.’
The following day I was taken to the spare ward again and after struggling to avoid having an injection I felt myself passing out.
But for some reason the injection cannot have been quite large enough for although I appeared to be unconscious I could hear and feel everything going on around me, though voices seemed a little far away and I did not feel pain so acutely.
Anyway the Sister must have thought I was unconscious for after pinching me she began to talk.
‘I think we can now do what we like with him,’ she said to Nurse Jorgensen. ‘I’ve never enjoyed myself so much in my life.
Having a man you can play with, masturbate, suck off and beat without him knowing anything about it. It’s the ideal solution to the relationship between a woman and a man. No fucking trouble with him wanting to have it his own way. Well, who’s turn is it?’
‘Mine today,’ said Nurse Jorgensen. ‘I really want that cock up me for a moment before I suck him off.’
‘Well, you know the drug stops him from becoming hard for long so get him erect and straddle him for a minute. Then you can suck him off. After that I’m going to slap his balls until they’re bruised. I really enjoy doing that to a man.’
Nurse Jorgensen got hold of my cock and began to work on it until it was quite erect and then she straddled me and lowered her vagina onto it, letting it go inside her. She moved on me for a few minutes but I soon slackened and she soon had to get off me. Then she bent over and started to take me in her mouth, sucking hard on me until after about fifteen minutes, I must have come, though I was not really aware of it. But later on there was evidence that some juice had issued from me during my ‘black out’.
It was then that Sister Henderson started to pummel my testicles, striking them hard with her fist or the fiat of her hand. I could feel the pain but not intensely.
It was then that I came to. Sister Henderson had stopped just in time. I quickly recalled all that had happened but I decided not to say anything. I had to think over what I had heard before taking any rash action.
Lying in my bed in the man’s ward I thought over what I had heard. I now realized that both women had a love-hate attitude to men. They needed sex but were not willing to let a man think they did. They needed men but they enjoyed hurting and maltreating them.
I must have been their current victim, that was obvious. Why they had chosen me I could not say, except I was only in hospital for physiotherapeutic treatment and therefore did not constitute a risk.
What they didn’t know was that I rather liked being treated in this way by women - as long as it didn’t go too far. I suppose that deep in my subconscious I had always known I wanted a woman to ill-treat me, but I had never actually sought one to do such things to me as Sister Henderson and Nurse Jorgensen had done. My only regret was that I did not know what they had done when I was unconscious the first time.
I decided that I would surprise them the following day.
When they came for me I went with them to the deserted ward and waited until Sister had locked the door.
‘Why did you lock the door?’ I asked. ‘Because we don’t wish to be interrupted,’ replied Sister Henderson calmly. ‘Lie face down. I am going to give you a caning again.’
Little did she know that it was the caning I was looking forward to. I lay there my bottom uppermost, as the thin cane whistled down across my buttocks. Nurse Jorgensen was standing near me and obviously enjoying the sight of a man being chastised in this way.
This went on for some ten minutes and at the end of that time I had a massive erection. Now I was ready to surprise them. I quickly turned onto my back, exposing to their surprise my rampant prick.
Nurse Jorgensen had a syringe in her hand and had been about to inject what she called a pain-killer in my bottom, but when she saw my erection she put it down and looked in horror at Sister Henderson.
I must say Sister Henderson kept her cool much better than I expected. But what I did not bargain for was the way she treated me as a result.
‘Disgusting,’ she cried. ‘Absolutely disgusting. We can’t have that sort of thing.’ And with those words she sat on the bed and slapped my balls fiercely. It was so painful that my erection subsided almost at once.
I was taken by surprise and hardly knew what I should do next. The one thing I didn’t want was to be put to sleep with an anesthetic injection.
‘I don’t want an injection today,’ I said as I now saw Nurse Jorgensen pick up the syringe again. ‘Do what you have to do without giving me that. I will co-operate in whatever you say is necessary.’
There was a brief exchange between the two nurses but I could not hear what they said as they spoke in whispers. Then Sister Henderson came forward and said: ‘All right. We shall continue the treatment without the pain killer. Tie his hands, Nurse,’ she added.
I allowed her to tie my hands, partly because I wished to find out what Sister Henderson had in mind and to see how far she was prepared to go when I was fully conscious. I could see that she was now faced with an important decision: unless she could deceive me into believing that what they did or were doing was part of my legitimate treatment they were taking a risk, and a very serious one at that.
I was amazed then to see Sister Henderson start to manipulate my penis as soon as my hands were tied. I could see a mixture of loathing and suppressed excitement on her face as my member hardened and grew to full size. I have a large cock and it must have accentuated the love-hate relationship she had for men. As soon as I was fully erect she straddled me, lowered herself onto my prick and began to move up and down on me, her face giving me the impression that she was almost in a state of hypnosis. Then her face gradually broke into a soft smile and when she finally climaxed she cried out in excitement, her face flushed with ecstasy.
‘There,’ she gasped. ‘It was necessary to see whether you could sustain your ugly erection. Apparently you can. Now I think we must deal with your condition.’ Thereupon she slid from the bed and forced a condom over my shaft. I still had not come and now Sister Henderson made it her business to force me to ejaculate. ‘I must have a sample of your sperm, she said, ‘to have it tested.’
I relaxed to her manipulation, still amazed at the extraordinary lengths she and her companion were prepared to go to satisfy their hatred of men, as well as their need for fulfillment. I would now go through with it whatever happened. Not only was I extremely interested in these women, but I even began to have a kind of quiet admiration for them.
‘That is the best way of testing sperm,’ said Sister Henderson. ‘If it tastes right then you are healthy.’
That apparently was all for the day. I was very surprised that nothing was said about keeping what had happened to myself, but I had overlooked Sister Henderson’s resourcefulness. That evening she came to my bed in the large ward where I was on my own at one end and she spoke to me seriously about the happenings of that morning.
‘I don’t want any of what happened this morning to go any further,’ she said. ‘As a matter of fact Nurse and I are conducting some rather unusual experiments. If you would like us to continue when you leave on Friday I should be very pleased. The truth is I think you are the sort of man who may come to understand us.’
I agreed that I might, not telling her that I knew what she was up to. I was, in fact, really intrigued by the idea of seeing her again after leaving hospital. Where would that be? I asked.
‘At my flat in the Nurses’ Home. It’s quite private,’ she told me.
And so it came about that the next time Sister Henderson carried out her experiments’ on me it was in her flat with Nurse Jorgensen absent.
‘I don’t mind telling you,’ said Sister Henderson, ‘now that you are out of hospital, that I suspected from the beginning that you were something of a masochist and might be likely to find the way I treat men intriguing, even exciting. I pretended, of course, that what I was doing was part of your hospital treatment. But in fact I was testing you. I knew very well that you were given only a small injection the third time and that you would hear everything we said. Now what I want to ask you is: Are you willing to let me go on doing the sort of things I did to you in hospital? You see I am reversing the normal role of man and woman, using you instead of you using me as most men use women.
I got the gist of her ideas and I nodded. I wasn’t exactly enthusiastic at that point as my idea of role reversal would have been to dress as a woman. Now, if she had asked me to do that I would happily have done so. But I also liked to be treated roughly and remembered how much I had enjoyed being caned the first time by her.
‘I should like you to begin by caning me,’ I said. ‘I get a lot of pleasure from that and I am sure that you do. I am not so certain about having my testicles pummeled.’
‘That is just as essential. I myself enjoy doing that and if you want to help me you must accept that. Indeed my aim is to get you to agree to all the things I think a woman should do to a man, and to deny you all the things you would like to do to a woman - that’s if your tastes were quite normal, which I don’t think they are.’
So it was agreed, and that afternoon I was caned by Sister Henderson so cruelly that my bottom was sore for days. But now that I am recovering I am looking forward to the next occasion, as well as to a long future with her.