The doctor told me that it was a relatively minor procedure but I would still be in the hospital for four or five days. I was having surgery to correct a minor bowel problem, nothing serious, but I wanted to get it out of the way while there was a lull between seasons. I’m a law student, but I pay my way through school by working as a catalog model. Catalogs come out all year ’round, but I’m mostly used in spring and summer catalogs – I’m the healthy, girl-next-door type and I do a lot of sports clothes, swim suits, summer dresses. I get some work for fall/winter catalogs too, but I make the bulk of my money on the spring/summer issues.
I’m tall, dark-haired and olive-skinned. My hair is short now because it’s more convenient. I can wash it, blow dry, and run my fingers through it and I’m all set for the day. I’m tall, 5’9″ and have a good figure (34c-24-35) and long sleek legs. My legs are my best feature and I’ve done some stocking advertisements too. As for the rest of my background – well, I’ve been married but it only lasted a year. He wanted a housewife & kids, I wanted law school and a career.
I went into the hospital on a Monday afternoon. The doctor told me they’d do some final tests, prep me, and I’d go down first thing in the morning for surgery. He warned me not to eat anything after 9 a.m. God, I thought I’d starve. I arrived at the hospital at 2:00 p.m. and I was feeling hunger pangs already. I went through the admissions process and was in my room by 3:30. They drew some blood and took some final x-rays. Then I settled down with a book and waited.
It was shortly after 7:00 p.m. when a young woman entered the room pushing a small utility cart. She told me that her name was Kari. “I’m a student nurse,” she explained, “I’m here to prep you for tomorrow. I need to shave you and give you an enema.” I frowned and she grinned. “I know, it’s terrible, but those are my orders.” She closed the door and locked it. “Now we won’t have anyone poking their head in at the wrong time.”
I studied her as she positioned the cart and arranged the shaving gear. She was a redhead with green eyes and freckles and she looked very young. She had to be at least 19 or 20, but she looked 15 or 16. She was small and slim, no more than 5’4″ and 112 pounds, and you had to look twice or three times before you realized how pretty she really was. She took a small basin into the bathroom and filled it with warm water. When she returned I asked her how old she was. She blushed and said, “I hate that question! I’m 20. I’m beginning my third year of nursing school. And I know what I’m doing! Any more questions?” I shook my head and tried to hide my smile. I’d gotten to her and I was satisfied.
I was wearing a nightgown I’d brought from home. She glanced at it and suggested I change into one of the hospital gowns and then change back after the operation. I hesitated, but it was a good idea and I nodded and asked her to get me one. She left and returned in a minute with one of those awful gowns that tie in the back, but never very well. She went to refill the basin while I changed and I appreciated her tact. When she returned she set the basin down and had me lay back with legs spread as wide. She drew my gown up until I was fully exposed. She clipped my pubic hair short and then used a washcloth dipped in hot water to soften the stubble a little. This was followed by a quick application of shaving cream. All accompanied by a steady stream of chatter designed to put me at ease. And it worked for the most part.
She took her time and shaved me very carefully and very thoroughly. I was surprised to find that it was very erotic to be shaved by her. You can’t be modest and be a model, but this was different and I was uncomfortable when she first pulled my gown up. When she was done shaving me she washed me with the washcloth. I looked down and saw that I was as smooth and as bare as I’d been back before puberty. I’d never shaved completely and found it strangely erotic. She touched my hip with the tips of my fingers and asked if I wanted to draw my feet up and take the enema on my back or roll over and pull my knees up under me. I hesitated and she said it would be better if I was lying face down with my bottom in the air. I nodded and started to roll over. She stopped me. “Wait, it will take me a couple of minutes to fill the bag. About 3 quarts for you, I think. The doctor doesn’t want to take any chances. He wants you fully cleaned out.”
When she returned with the bag she hung it from a hook on the IV stand and told me to roll over. I shook my head. “No, I’ve changed my mind. No enema!”
She frowned and said, “Roll over! You have to have an enema. Don’t make me get tough with you!”
I had to smile, which turned out to be a mistake. She got mad! Really mad. “Roll over or I’ll turn you over my knee and give you a good spanking!”
I shook my head and told her I’d complain and get her fired. She chuckled. “Would you really? Complain, I mean? That you wouldn’t take an enema and got spanked by a student nurse? I don’t think so. It would be too embarrassing!”
She had a point and I was suddenly scared. With good reason. She grabbed my hand and applied a hold her brother, a cop, had taught her. Before I realized it, I was out of bed and being led over to one of the two chairs in the room. Kari sat down, retaining her grip on my hand. “Reach up and untie your gown.” I shook my head, but she twisted her wrist and I went up on the tips of my toes to counteract the sudden pain. “Please…. I’ll do it.” She eased up and I reached up with my free hand and untied the gown. It slipped to the floor. A few seconds later I was lying across her lap. I was stunned. Here I was, a grown woman about to be spanked like a naughty schoolgirl and by a girl who barely qualified as an adult!
She told me she was going to spank me until I asked her to stop and give me the enema. “Not likely,” I muttered under my breath. She heard me and chuckled. “We’ll see.” Then I felt her shift her weight. She was still holding my left hand in the ‘come-along’ grip with her left hand, pinning it in the small of my back. Her right hand went up and fell – hard. Smaaaacck! My head came up and I bit my lip to keep silent, determined not to show how much it hurt. But after five or six hard blows I was crying. She was merciless. Smaaaaccck! Smaaaacck! I was sobbing and whimpering, tears streaming down my face. I lost count after 15 or 16. I broke down soon after and turned my head to beg.
“Please, stop! Please! Please give me the enema now.” She stopped immediately and let me up. I walked back to the bed and lay down on my stomach, drawing my knees up under my body to elevate my bottom. I had my face turned away from her, but she stroked my hip gently and told me to turn and face her. I did and she wiped my tears away with her fingertips. Then I felt her spread my buttocks with one hand while guiding the enema nozzle with the other. She slipped the greased nozzle into my anus and pushed it in far enough so that it wouldn’t slip out. Then she released the clip and I felt the warm soapy water flow into my bowels. Kari stroked my back and bottom with both hands and talked to me in a low, soothing voice. “That’s better now, isn’t it? You’re being a good girl. You do want to be a good girl, don’t you? Answer me, Ellen.”
I turned my head a little and looked up at her. “Yes, Kari, I want to be a good girl.” And the shocking thing was that it was true. I wanted to be good. I wanted her to be happy with me. “This is embarrassing for you, isn’t it?” I nodded. She smiled, “But you like it, don’t you? The embarrassment, I mean. And the loss of control.”
I thought about it for a moment and realized that she was right. I did like it. I’d even liked being spanked. Not while it was happening, but looking back on it was exciting. And the possibility of being spanked again was even more exciting. “Yes, Kari, I like it. I like not being in control. I like having you control me.”
She continued to stroke and soothe me until the bag was empty. She wiggled the nozzle in my ass for a few seconds before removing it. I moaned with pleasure and turned my head to kiss her hand. She helped me sit up and I groaned. My belly was rounded as if I was pregnant and I felt cramped. She ran her hand over my belly and said, “Next time I’ll give you a full gallon!” I moaned. She helped me up and walked me to the bathroom. She let me sit on the toilet, but told me to hold it until she gave me permission to expel it. She stood in front of my and stroked my hair and cheeks. I kissed and licked her hands. “Please, Kari, let me move my bowels. Please!”
She crouched in front of my and pushed my knees apart. I blushed, embarrassed but also excited. She stroked my thighs and told me how beautiful they were. She cupped my breasts and fondled them gently, teasing my nipples erect with her thumbs. I moaned with pleasure. “Please…. Kari…. let me do it.” She shook her head and slid one hand down across my belly. I moaned and pushed my hips forward as the tips of her fingers grazed my sex. “Ellen, what do you want?”
I took a deep breath and looked right into her eyes. “I want to be masturbated. Please….”
She smiled. “When you’re clean and back in bed. Expel now.”
I closed my eyes, but she pinched me and said, “Look at me while you do it.”
I opened my eyes and stared at her as I pushed. My sphincter relaxed and the water gushed out of me in a rush. It was so embarrassing. So fantastic! She left me then, telling me to shower and get back into bed. “I’ll come and masturbate you later if you’re a good girl.” I nodded and she turned and left. I was adjusting the water in the shower when the door opened again. It was Kari with my nightgown. She hung it on the back of the door. “See you in a while.” I smiled and stepped into the shower.
I was dozing when Kari returned about ninety minutes later. She put her hand on my forehead for a moment and I turned my head toward her, licked the palm of her hand. She brushed my hair back and asked if I was OK. I nodded and smiled. “Yes, everything’s fine.” We chatted for a couple of minutes and she stroked my forehead and cheeks the whole time.
“Ellen, are you scared about tomorrow?”
“Yes,” I whispered. “I know it’s a *minor* operation, but it still scares me.” I paused. “But it helps when you’re here. I love having you touch me.” Another, longer pause. “Please, will you masturbate me now?”
She smiled and nodded, drawing the sheet down to my knees. I lifted myself as she pulled my nightgown up around my waist. She stroked my thighs gently and I opened them for her. “What about after you leave the hospital?”
I glanced up at her. I hadn’t thought about that. But the answer was simple. I caught her left hand in both of mine and brought it to my mouth. I kissed the back of her hand and licked the palm. “It’s up to you,” I whispered. “I’m yours.”
She smiled and leaned to kiss me lightly on the lips. “Don’t you forget it. You belong to me now.” And then she straightened up and slipped her hand between my legs. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the waves of pleasure that she generated as she teased my clit before slipped two fingers into my wet, eager pussy. I arched my back and thrust myself upward as she rubbed my clit with the ball of her thumb while thrusting two fingers as deep into me as she could. When I started to whimper and moan she put her left hand over my mouth to muffle the sounds. I came with a rush and she pressed her hand against my mouth to stifle my scream of pleasure. God, it was fantastic! Afterward, I licked my pussy juice from her fingers and loved that too.
The next morning, when I went down to surgery, Kari was there and took me down herself. In the elevator she showed me a delicate gold ankle bracelet with a little engraved disk that read “Kari’s Slave”. I smiled and asked her to put it on for me. She did. Five days later, when I left the hospital, Kari was waiting with her car. She settled me in the passenger seat and drove me home to my new life as her slave.
