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Mixed boxing, 200 pictures 1920x1080 (Full HD), partially CFNM, no blood.
The atmosphere in the tearoom at the Leaside General Hospital was decidedly rebellious. A nurse had returned from a home visit, where she had been groped by a male patient, Brett Forbes. It seemed it happened a lot at that house, and the nurses were recounting their various ordeals there.
“He’s a malingerer,” complained Josie. “He doesn’t work, because he says he has so many things wrong with him, and he can’t go to the doctor or the hospital, because he says he has a phobia of surgeries. More likely he’s just lazy, and wants to get a pretty nurse in his house. The worst of it is the authorities always take his word for everything.”
“When I went to visit him, he tried to get me to put the stethoscope on his dick, the kinky bastard,” complained Diane.
“He’s done that with all of us,” added Julie. “Only he stopped doing it after Jackie put it in the freezer for five minutes beforehand.”
“Did you?” asked another nurse, Sharon, astonished but hopeful.
“Yes,” grinned Jackie. “He’d asked me before and I told him that wasn’t what a stethoscope was for, and he said I was a ‘snob’ and ‘boring’. So the next time I put it in his freezer before I went into the living room, where he was. When he asked me, I surprised him by saying ‘Yes, why not?’ I said I would just go and get it from my car, got it from the freezer instead, and… You should have seen him, jumping up and down, shouting ‘Do something!’ with a freezing cold stethoscope stuck to his dick! I emptied a load of cooking oil over it in the end, managing to get his clothes covered in it as well. The place smelt like a chip shop by the time I left!”
“Lovely!” commented Diane, “a rare moment of revenge.”
“Wouldn’t it be great,” mused Josie out loud, “if he groped a nurse, and she turned round and bopped him one?”
“We can but wish,” replied Diane, but she’d need to have a good job to go to straight afterwards.”
“Supposing,” began Jackie, who liked to be cryptic, “she wasn’t a nurse, only looked like one?”
“Here we go,” commented Diane, grinning, “mystic Meg and her mysteries.”
“What I mean is, there’s some shadowy organisation that can provide a woman to do exactly what we want. You tell them the situation, and they do all the rest: arrangements, costume, and so on. Some time ago they sent a woman to deal with a boxing tutor who used to grope his female pupils [gallery 624]. She roughed him up beautifully, and ended by knocking him out. They’re not cheap, obviously, but there are eight of us here now, plus the girls on the other wings who get sent to Brett, and I know Ann on Reception would join in. What do you say?”
“Good morning, is that Brett Forbes?”
“It’s the Leaside General Hospital here, and I’m calling to advise you that your monthly check up will be a week early this time. Please be ready to admit Nurse Julia Simmons tomorrow at 10 o’ clock. Please just wear shorts, as usual, and everything else will be the same.”
“Julia, Julia,” thought Brett after the call. “Sounds posh. Probably some snobby, stand-offish bitch like all the others.”
Perhaps Julia was “posh”, but she couldn’t be called “stand-offish”, and Brett gasped when he saw her. She was wearing a caricature of a nurse’s uniform: it was a glorified leotard, really, in the old fashioned red and white colours. It was cut high at the front, but the material was so thin, and clung so tightly, that it followed the exquisite contours of her bosom. It was cut high above the hips, in a point, and there was practically no material over the buttocks. A red cross headband and trim white boots completed the picture. She had the perfect figure – full breasts, narrow waist, and curving hips and rear – to complement it.
“I must say,” croaked Brett “you don’t look like the usual nurses in their boring uniforms, that look like shapeless pyjamas.”
“I’m new, you see,” explained Julia, and they told me that when you do home visits you can have a little more freedom in the uniform than when you’re on the ward. I hope I haven’t gone too far. Now, I’ll just sign myself in.”
She held a form, a separate piece of paper and a pen, and looked around for a table to write on. The only thing was a grand piano. “I bet no one plays it,” she thought, noting that it was pushed up against a wall, so you couldn’t sit at it. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine Brett playing it. She leant on the piano to write, deliberately pushing her bottom out as she did.
“Oh, these pens they give us are useless,” she complained, scribbling so that her bottom shook and swayed from side to side.
Brett, dry in the mouth, gazed at it. If ever an arse deserved a squeeze, that one did! Couldn’t you just …? He tiptoed over to her, reached out, and sighed as his fingers pinched that tempting flesh. Julia, in Josie’s words, “turned round and bopped him one” – specifically, in the mouth.
“What the fuck!” demanded Brett, lashing out with his right fist.
Julia saw it coming, dropped to one knee, and uppercut him in the balls. He staggered, clutching his groin, and lurched forward, so she jumped back up and swung her right fist into his jaw. Brett, upright once more, next received a female left fist firmly on the chin. He only felt it – substantially – but a critical observer would have seen a first rate left cross, executed by someone who obviously knew her business. Julia followed up with a long, looping right cross, again catching him on the chin. Its great impact put him on the floor, unconscious.
Brett looked up after regaining consciousness, and saw that devil-woman smiling down at him, hands on hips. God, but she looked lovely! How could someone who looked like that fight the way she did?
“You keep away from me,” he whined. “You’re not normal.”
“What, and you are?” Julia laughed. “Look at you, you haven’t even got your shorts on now – and you’re sporting a massive erection!
“What? How… You took them off! I’ll get you struck off the nurses’ register! You’re a disgrace to your profession! A nurse shouldn’t go round punching her patients, either!
“A girl has to be able to defend herself, you know.”
“You didn’t defend yourself, you attacked me.”
“Stop exaggerating, and get up and fight.”
“You deliberately led me on, so you got an excuse to hit me.”
“Yes, I suppose I did. Still, that’s all over now, so let’s get on with the second half,” Julia told him, raising her fists.
“I’m going to call the police!”
“Well you can do that, except your phone’s on the piano behind me. If you want it, you’ll have to get past me.”
“I’m going to get my phone, and I’m going to have you arrested!” Brett shouted, getting to his feet.
“Welcome back!” Julia greeted him with a punch in the eye. Her right fist did its work splendidly, and the skin surrounding his eye went into a grotesque shape, and a multitude of dark colours. “I love my work!” she thought, hurling her left fist up under his chin. Once again, the punch was delivered perfectly; her balance and footwork ensured the uppercut had the maximum impact.
In fact all her punches had that, and she happily homed her right fist into his ear. At least, after that, her punches didn’t sound so bad for Brett, though they felt just as bad. Her left fist banging into his jaw proved that. She tried a right uppercut, which was just as effective as the previous one, to her satisfaction.
Crack went her left fist into his nose. He was certain she had broken it, and his eyes filled with tears. Julia finished the punching spree with an angled right uppercut, jaw and chin, which jarred Brett’s whole body. He was incapable of any attempt at defence now, and just stood, praying her next punch would knock him out. But instead she surprised him by placing her hands on his face.
“Never mind,” she said coaxingly, “it will soon be over,” and she drove her knee up into his balls.
Brett stood as if his feet were stuck in quick-setting cement. “I’ve got to bring him down soon,” thought Julia, left hooking him. Nothing. “Try again,” she thought, and she hit him with a similar blow, but higher up on the face. That did the trick nicely, and Brett collapsed, unconscious, to the floor.
There was no victory pose from her – she was at work, after all – and she just satisfied herself that she had done her job. She knelt down and felt his face to make sure he wasn’t faking unconsciousness. Then the darker side of her “profession” came out. She produced a syringe and inserted the needle into Brett’s testicles. With the injection of a certain liquid, his erection vanished instantly (though the shock of the needle might have done that anyway).
Now came the hideous part: she put a grotesque, weird, “chastity cage” on his penis. The ghastly, medieval-style contraption would ensure that any nascent erection would hurt so much as to be impossible. No more perving.
Brett came to, painfully. There was no sign of the beautiful, terrifying nurse. He tried standing, and only then noticed the nightmare device on his penis. Shaking, he realised what it was, this thing of barbaric cruelty. He tried to take it off, with trembling fingers, but realised there was a certain combination to release it that only the nurse presumably knew. How he cursed her. “A cool hand on a fevered brow?” he thought, bitterly. “More like scorching fists on a battered face.” Then he saw a note on the piano.
“Dear pervert,” it read. “No doubt you will want to get the chastity cage off your sorry cock. So I propose a re-match. Come to our private gym on the 15th at 7 pm. The address is overleaf. That gives you 10 days to recover from today. If you can put up a better fight than you did today, I’ll take it off for you.