Private Hospital Pt. 02

Amy's life had settled into an enjoyable routine, mainly focussed on indulgent chats with patients and frequent romps with her newfound Filipino friend.

Ditzy, without ever intending to be, she rapidly became everyone's favourite nurse and, since political correctness held no sway within these private walls, attracted many a friendly pat on her perfectly formed posterior.

In truth Amy was being paid to be a tangible feel-good factor. Predictably she was propositioned - an oil-Sheik offered a house should she consent to being more liberal with her favours - but Amy charmingly deflected such inducements in a manner skilfully contrived to leave both parties un-offended.

For the moment rather than seek male company Amy was content to walk in the grounds or retreat to her room to read erotic novels and self-pleasure with one of several vibrators she kept close to hand. Life at Fardo was good.

All the more surprising then to unexpectedly hear her name called in far from friendly tones.

"Amy," Matron's stentorian voice echoed down the corridor, "my office, now!" Somewhat flustered, the nurse once again entered the bleak room, sensing she should shut the door behind her.

"Well, girl?" Matron demanded coldly.

"Well what, ma'am?" Amy asked anxiously.

"Don't act the innocent with me. You knew what to expect if you stepped out of line, flaunting yourself in front of the patients," replied Matron triumphantly. She wore a pristine navy-blue linen dress, tightly belted around an enviably narrow waist, emphasising mature hips that swayed with voluptuous promise as she clicked along the corridors on four-inch heels. With vivid red lips and nails and black stockings Matron dressed to impress, a uniform fetishist's dream. Jealous of the junior nurse's popularity with patients Matron intended to exact revenge upon the young pretender to her sex goddess throne.

With a basilisk stare she sat on one of the hard wooden chairs, straight of back and firm of purpose. "This matter will be dealt with forthwith," Matron announced menacingly, "come and stand beside me!"

Tremulously Amy obeyed, standing stiffly at attention beside the imposing figure, shoulders back, breasts and bum outthrust, awaiting her fate.

"Turn around," instructed Matron, and Amy meekly complied: giving a startled cry as the older woman lifted her skirt, tucking it into the waistband of her tunic.

Amy's pert bottom cheeks filled her tight and translucent white panties to perfection. "Right," she grasped Amy's wrists tightly, pulling her abruptly back round to face her, "get over my knee." Amy's fingers and toes barely touched the floor as she struggled for balance. "A good spanking should restore your sense of decorum, young madam," announced Matron as her hand cracked sharply down.

"Please, no," the prone nurse protested, as the hurt instantly stung her flesh. "Ahhhh," she burbled involuntarily as Matron unleashed a fusillade of slaps upon her unprotected rear, dispensing an impressively thorough bottom smacking. Within minutes every inch of Amy's poor sit-upon was hot and sore as, pinning the wriggling girl firmly by the waist, Matron continued her self-appointed task with unseemly relish. "Hmm, time we had those knickers down," Matron announced after what felt to Amy like a hellish eternity of slaps.

"Oh ma'am, don't..." Amy wailed, then stopped abruptly in mid-sentence as someone entered the office. Who on earth might it be?

"What is the meaning of this?" roared an enraged male voice, and to Amy's distress, there stood Dr Gooding.

"I was..." but Matron's flushed face and unsteady tone of voice already told their own story.

"I'm responsible for discipline in this establishment," Gooding's voice assumed a dangerous calm. Helped to her feet Amy frantically rubbed her smarting derriere. "Let me look," Gooding murmured, He knelt, apparently to better observe, but in reality conceal a burgeoning erection. The scarlet mounds radiated heat as they yielded to his assured touch. "Mmm," moaned Amy.

"I see, that's going to take time to fade," blustered Gooding. Matron sat apparently transfixed with trepidation, during the course of Amy's chastisement her skirt had ridden far up over her knees to afford a glimpse of stocking tops. The topmost buttons of her dress undone, revealing a visibly heaving cleavage; whether from fear of the consequences of unilateral action, her vigorous spanking of Amy, or the undoubted sexual pleasure she'd enjoyed prior to its abrupt termination, wasn't immediately clear.

"You will both accompany me to my office" the doctor said shortly and covertly adjusting their dress, they two women followed him through hospital corridors to his luxurious domain. Once the door was firmly locked Amy sighed contentedly as the doctor massaged cold cream into her rosy-hued moons; hands occasionally straying to her sensitive inner thighs.

Amy hoped Gooding couldn't detect the wetness between her legs; painful though her posterior remained, the encounter with Matron had provided a valuable lesson: spanking definitely turned her on.

"That should feel better, would you like to sit?" enquired the consultant, reluctantly removing his hands.

"No thanks," Amy gingerly rubbed her still glowing haunches,

"Quite,' replied Gooding, "However it seems only right you should be present while I punish Matron for ignoring the rules of this establishment. She will not be accorded any clemency by virtue of our marital arrangements."

"But," Matron pleaded, "you can't, it's too humiliating."

The clinic's director remained implacable. "You unfairly took it upon yourself to chastise Amy," (a task the doctor had eagerly been looking forward to performing himself) "it's appropriate she should watch you suffer a similar penalty." And before Amy's astonished eyes, his wife was pulled protesting across his knee.

Matron's embarrassment was complete; her flimsy knickers peremptorily pulled off and cast onto the floor for the duration. A woman of authority, mature in years, draped with buttocks bared across a man's knee like some errant schoolgirl awaiting the amply earned smacking of her naughty bottom. And it was, extensively and soundly, the percussive rhythm of Gooding's punishing palm counterpointed by the frequently dissonant moans of a much-distressed recipient.

Amy smiled as, reacting to the searing smart inexorably spreading across her expertly burnished globes, Matron twisted and struggled to no avail in Gooding's masculine grasp. Her spanking took far longer than Amy's, Matron's bigger bottom - although delectably taut and firm -- required longer to comprehensively slap to a scarlet hue. When Gooding's hand became tired Amy was quick to assist, helpfully provide a hairbrush from Matron's handbag.

During the closing stages of this prolonged correction Matron, any vestige of restraint long since departed, wailed in anguish, kicking her legs and afforded the two watchers, now exchanging conspiratorial glances, an excellent close-up view of her dewy cleft.

Ever the perfectionist, Gooding was finally content with these punitive preliminaries and paused her ordeal. Matron's relief was, however, short-lived. Forced over the doctor's desk and instructed to grip the far edge and keep her feet apart, she gasped in shock when Gooding announced his intention to dispense six salutary strokes of the cane.

This unexpected development took Amy's girlish spanking fantasies into a whole new realm, delivering an electric jolt of intense sensual desire.

"I know who else you took it upon yourself to chastise. Maria has made a full statement," Gooding flicked the tip of the cane into the apex of Matron's spread legs.

"Oow!" Tears welled up in Matron's eyes, dark mascara ran down her cheeks and she clenched her thighs in response to this cruel treatment of her pussy.

Watching the slender bamboo make harsh contact with the plump cheeks of her erstwhile tormentor Amy surreptitiously ground the heel of her hand against her yearning sex. Self-control surrendered Matron cried out as each perfectly parallel stroke sunk unyieldingly into her generous curves. Amy winced in sympathy as the unfortunate woman slumped forward exhausted, blazing bottom seared by lines of molten fire.

Her ordeal wasn't over yet, dismissing Amy from his office with instructions to return in an hour, Gooding turned his attention to the conclusion of Matron's correction and began to lubricate her buttock crease. Knowing only too well what to expect Matron raised her haunches on tiptoe, reaching behind with shaking fingers to part her two peaches. The doctor's skilful digits worked the lube around her rear portal, slicking the juices seeping from her aching quim over the tight entrance. Steadying her hips with one hand he brought the tip of his rock-hard cock to rest against Matron's back passage.

"Push back," he commanded and, impaled her tradesman's entrance on the tip of his distended rod. Slowly Gooding eased the impressive girth of his penis deeper until Matron's magnificent arse was filled to the brim and stretched to the limit.

"Oh yes," she growled lustily, "I love it when you fuck me there." She rocked ecstatically back and forth on his cock, simultaneously frigging her craving clitoris.

"Worked like a dream, didn't it?" panted Gooding, thrusting hard.

"You don't think she guessed?" queried his wife.

"No, as always, credulous but biddable."

"What a combination," agreed Matron, "the possibilities are endless. Now harder please, I need a vigorous seeing too."

"Don't you always?" sighed the doctor, as the required fucking was duly dispensed and both noisily climaxed.

Back in her room, Amy reached into her bedside drawer for a vibrator. Imagining the penetrative conclusion of Matron's harsh penance had soaked her already overheated pussy, enabling Amy to slide the large dildo in to the hilt with a single stroke. "Oooh," she murmured, accommodating its full nine-inch length; this really was proving to be a physically taxing job.