Harold Miller read the small neatly typed card displayed in the glass fronted show-case outside the newsagents’ several times before he plucked up courage to surreptitiously write down the telephone number on a scrap of paper and hurry away. He could, without any effort, memorize that advertisement word for word, but he couldn’t trust his memory with the phone number. If he DID decide to take advantage of the matron’s offer he couldn’t risk contacting a wrong number. A Matron he wondered? Was the instigator of that carefully worded advertisement, so addled with hidden meanings, really fully qualified nursing sister? Ha knew there was only one way to find out, and if she WAS a nurse, and she COULD provide him with his own special kind of therapy, what a find she would be. It could be the answer to one of his oft repeated prayers, or it could be a bitter disappointment. One way or the other he knew it would cost him money, but he didn’t mind that if she gave him the treatment he wanted for Harold Miller was semi-retired from his prosperous insurance practice and not short of a bob or two.
First impressions were favorable. The voice on the phone was authoritative and matter of fact. If any one sounded like a matron it was this woman. They conversed for several minutes, she was obviously making an assessment of him. Was he genuine or simply a sensation seeker? Did he have money to spend, not a time waster? Eventually she got round to the questions he wanted to be asked. What sort of therapy was he seeking, did he have anything specific in mind, or would he leave it to her?
“Er, well, yes I am quite willing to leave the treatment details in your hands” he told her “but I do have something which is rather special to me. I like… you see I like…” he hesitated and then made up his mind it was no use making an appointment with this nurse if he did not have the courage to tell her what he particularly wanted. “I want to be given an enema, and I went it done properly, I believe administered under certain circumstances an enema can be very stimulating and enjoyable. You, as a trained nurse must know all about such things and I am willing to pay well for your services if you can provide what I want”.
He heard her give a snort. “I can most certainly promise you will be a happier and healthier man if you place yourself regularly under my control. I am very experienced in the administering of enemas and I think we can safely leave discussing the treatment in detail until you visit me. You say six o’clock tomorrow evening will be convenient for you. I look forward to seeing you then. By the way my name is Matron Sutton”.
He jotted down her name and the address she gave him. It was in the Waterloo area and he wondered if she was still employed in the nursing profession at the nearby St. Thomas hospital. The idea of receiving his own specialized treatment from a woman who was still a practicing nurse appealed to him greatly, and the time until six next day was going to drag. As the time went by so his excitement increased. He was literally trembling with unaccustomed apprehension after ringing the bell on the rather grim looking door which he had located at the end of a long narrow passageway. A single card, once white, but now very grubby, was over the bell stating starkly ‘Matron Sutton’. It was not an impressive facade, but the footsteps he heard approaching from behind the door were heavy and certainly not those of a slender young person. They sounded like the steps of a woman of authority, a matron for example. He was pleased about that, he liked well-built mature women and as the door swung open he was not disappointed.
“Do come in, you must be Mr. Miller”. He followed her along the hallway, long and narrow like the passageway outside. He liked what he saw, she was indeed well built but shapely with it, not fat. He guessed her age at late thirties, possibly early forties, but what excited him further was the fact she wore the uniform of her calling. Dark navy dress with the clinical white starched cuffs and belt, and the trim head-piece were authentic but where she strayed from the normal nursing sister-wear was down below the hem of her dress. The eager eyes of Harold Miller had quickly noticed her shoes and stockings. Nurses wear black shoes and certainly this woman’s were black, glossy gleaming black, but were very high heeled not in the least like the normal low broad heeled footwear one always associates with the nursing profession. And the stockings Matron Sutton wore the finest of hose, silk if he wasn’t mistaken, he had never seen a pair of nylon stockings add so much appeal to the limited area of calf he could see as she walked ahead of him, leading him to a well lit room set off to the right of the hallway.
He was delighted to find this room set out like a small hospital ward. There were two iron-framed beds, complete with side lockers, and a table set facing the beds where one could imagine the sister in charge of the ward sitting and keeping her eye on patients and nurses alike. She was amused at his look of bewilderment, but not surprised. Most of her ‘patients’ reacted in astonishment when they first saw her ward. They didn’t expect anything quite so close to the real thing when they visited her apartment in a Waterloo back street. He heard her close the door, it was like precluding the outside world from this private domain in which Matron Sutton ruled supreme.
“I call this the Sutton ward” she smiled at him “I am sure you will benefit from the treatment you will receive whilst a patient here”. He opened his mouth to express his gratitude to her for allowing him to be her patient but his words were stifled when she acted in a very unmatronly fashion. He realized how strong her hands were when she gripped his shoulders and her well defined lips parted to enclose his mouth in a kiss, the like of which he had not had the pleasure of experiencing for a good many years. She was literally sucking his tongue into her mouth in a way that guaranteed to stir the latent lust in any man no matter what his age. She held her powerful body so close to him her ample mammary mounds pressed into his chest, and even through her uniform bodice he could feel the pronounced heavy buds of her maturely developed breasts. To add to his excitation she slowly ground her belly and the tops of her broad thighs against him.
When the kiss came to a breathless halt she did not release his shoulders from her grip but looking closely into his eyes she told him “I knew from speaking to you for only a few minutes on the telephone the sort of therapy you needed and the sort that will do you the most good. Put your arms round my waist, that’s right. l bet you haven’t embraced a woman for many years have you, not in a way that makes you grow here” she jabbed her thigh into his groin and rubbed the hardening shaft that his trouser front protected. “Oh you naughty man, feeling matron’s bottom like that”. His palms had slid down until he was taking fistfuls of her arse-flesh and dragging her harder to him. She had a beautiful well fleshed rump. The sort of backside he liked on a woman and he assumed she was giving him full permission to fondle her there, through her uniform dress of course, but her apron parted at the back so at least he only had her dress and her knickers separating his palms from her skin. She was leading him on, naughtily rubbing her belly and thigh fronts against him in the most provocative way.
“Are you really a nurse, a matron”? he asked, “you told me you were when we spoke on the phone, but I didn’t expect you to act like this as soon as I came here”.
“There will be plenty of time for me to behave as a matron Mr. Miller if you are going to be a regular patient here in Sutton Ward, and yes, I am a real nurse. I am a matron in the nearby hospital. I expect you passed it on the way here. St. Thomas’. I’m sure you know it. I expect you thought I was just saying I was a matron to get you here. You will find out your mistake as time goes on. I am a matron, but a woman too you know, but I think I have learnt more about men in my capacity as a nurse than most women ever know. You think you will get a great deal of pleasure from being made to have an enema, and you are right. You will experience thrills you have not felt before and the way I am going to administer it to you will make you want it time and time again. But enemas are for naughty little boys you know, and naughty little boys have to have other treatments”.
He watched her undoing the buttons down the front of her uniform dress. When it gaped open she pushed down her apron far enough to let him see her large brassier-cupped globes. She leant forward, at the same time reaching inside the frock to get to the bra fastening. She saw how avidly he was watching her as she released the bra harness and let the cups fall forward and down from the fleshy globes. She cupped her right breast in both hands and made suggestive motions to him “Before little boy has his enema I think he might need drinkies”. He was dumbfounded, his mouth lolled open. “Now don’t be a naughty boy” she went on or matron will have to scold you. You are standing there with your mouth opening and shutting like a fish out of water. Come closer and get your mouth right here, that’s right, get your lips well down over my nipple and suck. Suck hard I tell you”.
For the first time in years he was mouthing on a feminine teat, to be doing it to the breast of an attractive mature woman, a nursing matron no less was unbelievable. Her nipple was large, well developed and he surmised it had been induced to such growth by constant oral attention by her private patients in her very own Sutton Ward. The way she now breathed heavily was proof he was performing to her satisfaction. She took his right wrist and guided his hand up under the hem of her uniform. Now he was certain her stockings were silk. They felt smooth and velvety to his touch and he slowly went higher and higher until his fingers encountered the rather more robust texture of the reinforced hose-top. “Put both hands up my uniform if you want to” he needed no second bidding. He fondled the warm nakedness of her thighs above her silken stockings and it was only when his fingers wandered in between her thighs, very close to her knickered crotch that she drew back from him.
“Just a moment Mr. Miller, before matron allows you any more privileges I think we had better discuss the fees involved”
It was his turn to be breathing heavily now. She knew she had allowed him just sufficient ‘patient privileges’ to get him aroused and in a state of rut that made It easy for her to negotiate on her own terms. “My fees are quite large you know, but you must realize you will get very special treatment indeed in my ward”, she slyly winked at him “and I might, just might, be able to arrange for another nurse to be in attendance sometimes, especially when you are having enema therapy. How would you like a young very pretty nurse to assist In your therapeutic treatments. I have one young nurse I have especially trained to help patients attain greater heights of enjoyment from the enema. How would you like to meet her Mr. Miller”?
Matron Sutton knew she had him, just like all the others no matter what sort of special’ therapy they wanted, she gave this ‘come-on’ treatment first. Get them horny, get them interested in more treatment with more nurses and they will pay, if not the earth, at least a very sizable fee to be a patient in Sutton Ward.
This well dressed, and obviously well-off gentleman trying to get his hungry mouth on to her protruding nipple again and his greedy hands up her clothing was no exception. “I will provide very attentive nurses for you and I personally will be your matron for an Initial fee of one hundred pounds” she told him.
She knew at once she had not aimed too high. “Of course, of course my dear”.
“No, Mr. Miller, NOT my dear, you will address me as Matron, always, and the young ladies I introduce you to will be always addressed as Nurse, do you understand. The discipline in Sutton Ward is very strict. As soon as you have given me your cheque you may take off your clothes and regard yourself as registered in this ward”.
The first financial encounter over, she was helping him take off his jacket, shirt and tie. All the time she was undressing him he was trying to sneak feels up under her uniform. She did not make very pronounced efforts to stop him. Now his trousers were off his long-johns were revealed. She tried not to smile at his old fashioned underwear and was secretly pleased at the size of his penis which now jutted proudly through the slit front of the woolen pants. When he was naked she told him to climb on to the left hand bed whilst she prepared his enema. She disappeared behind a screen in the far corner of the ward and he heard the sound of running water and a clattering of earthenware. Whilst he timidly waited, bare as the day he was born, he looked about him. Now he could see why she had specified the left hand bed. Behind the iron bedstead stood a gleaming chromium stand, reaching to about three foot above the bed head it formed an upright from which jutted several chrome tubes at right angles above his head. This was where the enema bags would be hung, he was sure of that, and already his stomach churned at the prospect. When Matron Sutton emerged from behind the screen she carried two bloated rubber bags, the size of average balloons. They overflowed slightly whilst she reached up to secure them to the rods and he saw the liquid they contained was frothy.
“As you are not used to the enema therapy yet I am only using soft soap this time. I think that will be more than enough for you to take as a first treatment. Now stand here, beside the bed. Good, place your hands on the wall above your head and lean forward. No, get your feet back more from the wall so that when you lean you are at an angle of forty five degrees. Good, that’s it, now stay like that”.
He kept still but he could not resist looking round to see what she was doing. From a glass topped trolley the other side the bed she had selected the tubing she planned to use. It was seven feet long, one end separated into two each with a screw cap attachment. These she secured to the two fully blown rubber bags, and to the other end of the hosing was attached a plastic bulbous-shaped nozzle and midway down the tubing a pump-bulb was in position obviously to be compressed to increase the natural downward flow of the fluid if Matron considered the intake of liquid was not fast or powerful enough. He was pleased she had allowed her large breasts to remain free. He enjoyed seeing the way they swung and wobbled as she walked or went about her business of preparing the equipment, but she had made two changes to her outfit. One an addition, and one a loss. She now wore a pair of long rubber surgical gloves, that was the addition. The loss? It was the lower part of her uniform. He had thought she wore a dress but it must have been a skirt and top of the same material for now she had taken off the skirt and her lovely fleshy legs, encased in sheer silk stockings, held taut by black suspender straps, were clearly visible, and her meaty backside was covered by a pair of white knickers, not briefs by any standard, but truly feminine knickers. She retained her apron so that the vital front of her body was still concealed from him. He deeply regretted this fact but hoped she might remove the nurse’s standard white apron in a while.
All seemed ready for his first enema now, but no, not quite. She pulled the trolley round closer to where he half stood, half leant near the wall. To his astonishment he saw several small packets which were obviously rubber contraceptives. Ever since boyhood days the sight of French letter packets caused him strange physical exhilaration and in his present predicament his interest was highlighted by the steady growth of his penis, which had contracted considerably whilst he had been waiting on the bed for Matron’s return with the enema bags.
Still holding the broader part of the nozzle in one hand Matron Sutton deftly flipped open one of the little packets and extracted the neatly rolled sheath. He noticed it was not of the usual thin rubber but was considerably thicker, and he was soon to discover the inside surface was rough and not smooth. He winced a little and instinctively lurched forward as the cool nozzle of the enema was pressed against his cringing anus. “Now don’t be a big baby” she scolded him “I am using the smallest tube I have, I’m not even using a lubricant on the tip it is so small and smooth, so thrust back at me, that’s it, there, there now, there … doesn’t’ that feel good eh? Really good isn’t it”? So slowly and gently had she prodded he was hardly aware the plastic nozzle was embedded to a depth of several inches up his rectum. It was only when she altered the angle slightly so he felt pressure on his prostate glans that he realized how deeply she had penetrated him. Contrary to what he expected his penis did not swell automatically from the nozzle insertions or the friction close to his prostate, but in fact the hardening in his stem slackened.
“Tch. tch. tch” her mock annoyance embarrassed him “so the little man is not responding”. She placed the rubber condom back on to the trolley and cupped him under his swinging testicle sac at the same time slowly, but firmly and steadily, pushing the plastic nozzle further into his entrails. He breathed heavily, swaying and twisting as with inborn instinct his body tried to repel the invader. It was of course to no avail, not until the nozzle was inserted to the flanged base did the matron allow the inward pressure to ease off. She was now able to transfer her grip from the nozzle base to the bulb, at the same time releasing a tiny screw-grip on the tubing.
“Ahaaaaaaammmmmmm” he felt the warm flooding of first his back passage and the feeling of dampness quickly spreading to his bowel area. “Ahaaammmm~iaaaaahhhhhhh” he groaned softly at this new, and far from unpleasant sensation in his backside. There was a sudden brief, but very fierce, flowing of the fluid. He guessed why, the matron had squeezed that bulb, squeezed it hard and then released it so that the liquid gushed down the tubing and into his rectum with an unnatural ferocity.
“Feels good eh, little man?” She was close to his leaning body, her other hand alternating from cupping his balls to gently masturbating his still far from firm shaft. “We are slow to grow aren’t we?” He didn’t know if she was genuinely cross at his lack of erectal response or whether she was play-acting. Either way he didn’t care, he was enjoying the feeling of part fullness inside, a sensation of pleasure increased by the way she fondled his private parts.
Again the sudden fast squeezing of the rubber bulb again the fierce flooding up inside him and now as he became more inflated he was aware of a slight irritant not so much in his anal area as up in his stomach. It was the liquid soap making itself known to his ultra-sensitive membranes. From the way she was agitating his penis he was certain she was anxious to have him erect, yet still he was no more than a quarter hard.
“I think I know what will bring you to heel little man” she had her face close to his now as she allowed the fluid to flow steadily into him from the force of gravity alone, “I’m going to play with you while you take the enema and talk to you about pretty nurses, very young, very pretty nurses”. She was whispering more than speaking to him as she went on I know from the way you looked when I spoke about young nurses that you have a lustful yearning for them. I bet you’d like to suckle at the breast of a young nurse like you did at my tit ah. Suckling a small firm teat of a young nurse’s breast, that’s what you would like to do wouldn’t you. Sucking her breast while I give you an enema eh?”
He was by no means certain what she meant by a ‘discipline enema’, but it sounded exciting and the idea of sucking the breast of a younger nurse during his enema therapy was making him erect, not much, but enough for Matron to know her words were having the desired effect. She had the rubber sheath in her fingers again, holding it ready, close to the dome of his rod to be roiled down when he was firm enough. She had her lips virtually in his ear now, so close was her face to his. “I am sure an Important and vital treatment you must undergo is the discipline enema therapy and how would you like to have your face between a young nurse’s thighs during the treatment?”
That did it. His cock sprung to attention. Her experienced fingers quickly unrolled the rubber sheath down his stem, now he realized this was no ordinary French letter, the surface was abrasive to his cock skin adding stimulation to the ever growing organ. If he could have looked back and upwards he would have seen the enema bags were almost completely deflated. His bowels had taken a good supply of the soaped liquid, more than enough for his first enema application and when the bags were finally quite drained Matron Sutton concentrated on moving the plastic nozzle length gently backwards and forwards in his rectum at the same time gingerly masturbating him with her other hand.
“Next time your treatment will be provided by a young nurse acting under my Instructions Mr. Miller” she was still whispering low and intimately into his ear, “you will be able to feel up her legs like you did mine when you first arrived, you will be able to see her titties, to suckle at her nipples you’ll love that won’t you? And when you take all the discipline enema I will allow you to have your face right up between her legs. She has lovely legs Mr. Miller, and 11 you are a very good boy and take all I want to give you I will allow you to put your mouth right over her cunt”. She literally spat the last word out into his ear. “Do you hear me, Mr. Miller, you will be allowed to lap a young nurse’s cunt”.
“AAARRRRRGGGEEEOOOAARR,” he arched violently forward, his entire torso shook from head to foot as the teat-end of the ‘letter’ bloated and filled with his hot juices. Instantaneous with his orgasm she withdrew the enema nozzle and quickly held a mobile rubber bed-pan under his buttocks. She knew what would follow. The moment he exhausted his supply of semen his body relaxed, his backside sinking onto the securely held pan. Now the emission was from another orifice as he emptied quantities of frothy soapy fluids. Drained, back and front, he was glad to accept her offer to help him back on to the bed. Exhausted, satiated, still trembling, Mr. Harold Miller was strangely relaxed and a feeling of well-being pervaded his senses. A smiling Matron Sutton looked down at him as she expertly played with herself, her hand unfortunately hidden from his gaze by her white apron. She had another appointment later in the evening so she did not want to bring herself to fruition yet, although she was tempted to do so. It always thrilled her to have a new patient and this one in particular she was sure would become a regular out-patient to her very specialized Sutton Ward.
