The Wet Nurse

The Wet Nurse

Part I

Chapter 1

Sandra arrived at the clinic on a bright Wednesday morning, drained after an arduous couple of days of work, with some trepidation, but also with hope for answers. Her unusual symptoms had defied diagnosis by her doctor and a succession of specialists after endless tests, hopefully to culminate here with a full week of comprehensive monitoring as an inpatient on a quiet medical ward. She'd been warned to expect a very dull time with nothing to do but be poked and prodded at intervals by the nursing staff. Work was banned, so instead of any laptop from the office she packed an eclectic selection of novels, some well-known and well-loved, a couple new and unknown; one or two should suit whatever mood she found herself in from day to day. Sandra's case was packed light even so, with just a few toiletries, pyjamas and eight days' of underwear.

Checking in was just as expected: the usual paperwork to be completed and she made the usual pretence at reading through the legal waivers before signing and being shown to her room. It was on the top floor, right at the end of the last, wide corridor, thankfully a single private room. She'd been warned that there was a chance it would be a shared room so the compact dimensions of the one she was shown into seemed a small price to pay for avoiding a roommate. Still, the bed was a standard hospital bed: large, but with a firm, clammy, uncomfortable foam mattress. The sheets were thick and almost felt starched, the blankets thin and barely warm enough, and none of it seemed likely to stay in place thanks to the slippery sanitary plastic coverings of the mattress and pillows. At least the nurses were friendly, sympathetic and helpful so that Sandra was happily enough settled in by the early afternoon, even after her first encounter with the hospital lunches.

It wasn't until the evening shift nurses came on that she met her first surprise. He was the first male nurse Sandra had seen on the ward and she found the way he quickly appeared in her room without knocking a little unnerving. Of course there were plenty of men the profession these days—had been for decades—but a first encounter at night had caught her off guard. She found herself quickly checking the modesty of her nightie and discretely pulled the covers up as she turned the page, trying to pay him the smallest amount of attention compatible with a minimum of politeness.

'Sorry to disturb your reading,' he apologised, noticing her embarrassment. 'I just have to take your last observations for the night and then you're on your own until morning. Give me a minute to check your IV and then I'll start with your temperature.'

'Sure; no problem.' mumbled Sandra, feigning more interest in her book than she felt, suddenly wanting to be alone quickly and annoyed at the more-than-a-minute it took him to do whatever it was he was doing to the IV bag by the side of the bed. Then he turned to her with a smile and went through the usual routine, already familiar after just an afternoon. She held her arm out to allow the blood pressure cuff to be velcroed in place, a blood-oxygen sensor went on her finger and a thermometer in her ear. When would it be over?

'That's it for tonight, unless there's anything else you need,' he said. 'Your notes say you need to stay in bed all night, at least for tonight. You can buzz me any time if there's anything you need. Okay?'

This was news to Sandra. Thinking back the doctor had said something along those lines when she'd dropped in during the afternoon but Sandra hadn't realised the implications. She did sometimes need the toilet during the night and was going to ask about how she should deal with that, but the nurse anticipated her question.

'I can bring you a urinal bottle if you like, just in case.'

'No, thanks. I never need to go at night.'

Why had she lied, she wondered? She could only put it down to her wanting the encounter over but even so, the nurse seemed to linger unnecessarily. The blood pressure cuff was still around her arm, now against her side in the bed. She moved it away again as she felt his hands start to remove it. She tried to extend her arm out again quickly but it seemed heavy with his hand and the cuff still constricting her movements so that the back of his hand momentarily brushed the side of her breast through her nightie and night bra. Sandra's face reddened with embarrassment but, looking intently at his face, she could see no sign that he'd registered what had happened or, if he had, he was continuing his work professionally in the knowledge that contact of that kind was to expected occasionally, and not a big deal. But Sandra's searching look lingered just too long and their eyes met as he looked up to see her red cheeks.

'Are you okay?' he asked?

Sandra was more flustered than she expected and found it difficult to come up with a natural, disarming response in time. The words wouldn't come.

'I ... guess so' she mumbled meekly.

Now it was the nurse's turn to look into Sandra's eyes, holding them in his gaze. She felt confused and almost unable to look away. The seconds dragged by uncomfortably until she dragged her head away.

'I want you to tell me exactly how this makes you feel,' he said, just as soon as her eyes weren't watching him, and at that moment a hand slipped suddenly under the lowish top of her nightie and stroked her nipple through the thin, tight fabric of her night bra. He managed a few gentle strokes and then a very gentle pinch of her nipple before she looked back; the world seeming to move in slow motion.

'What do you think you're doing?' demanded Sandra as loudly as should could, though she sounded less authoritative than she would have liked.

He quickly stopped and stepped back, saying nothing at all as he looked at his watch, long before Sandra's hands could come up to push him away. She felt ashamed that she'd said and done so little. She was confused about how little riled she felt, just lying there with her face still flushed, with embarrassment she supposed.

She decided the best thing to do was to push the call buzzer and complain loudly to whoever responded. Twisting her arm up backwards she found reaching the buzzer difficult. Then, just as her hand reached it his hand found hers and brought it back down to her side. She saw that doing so required no effort on his part.

'Just rest there a minute he said. You're doing well.'

Sandra tried again to rouse herself to action but now it was so hard she knew something was terribly wrong. It was much easier to lay placidly as she was than to want to take any action. She made one more effort to lift her hand but now found it so weak that she could barely raise it before giving up the attempt.

'What's wrong with me?' she heard her voice say.

Resuming his place by Sandra's side the nurse's hand continued its gentle stroking of her nipple, just as before. How much it felt like those petting sessions of her youth she thought. Before she could wonder at her own new attitude to the situation she felt both of her nipples growing rapidly hard and erect. Now his strokings turned to gentle flicks of the nipple protruding into the stretchy, smooth bra fabric.

'You need to tell me how this makes you feel. Tell me what you're thinking.'

'You've made them pointy.' said her voice. Why would she be giving away any of her thoughts, let alone anything that might be construed as consenting?

'Is that nice then? When you've let men stroke them before you've liked the way it felt, haven't you?'

'Yes' came her voice again after a short pause. It seemed to have a mind of its own, or at least it said the first thing that came into her head without the least thought about whether honesty and cooperation were a good idea.

'How do you feel?' he insisted again.

'Nice ... they feel tingly.'

Stopping briefly he pulled the covers down off Sandra. Briskly he arranged her arms by her side and parted her legs a little. Next, her nightie was pulled off her shoulders exposing the large soft white bra she wore to bed to support her very large breasts while she slept. Her nipples were very prominent through the fabric. Lastly, he flipped up the hem of her nightie—it wasn't very long—revealing a white lacy pantie gusset. Sandra lay relaxed, so relaxed that she couldn't be bothered to move a muscle.

'Does this make you feel nice anywhere else?' he asked, stroking both nipples together now as he bent over so that his face filled Sandra's sight. 'Tell me all the places that feel good.'

Sandra stared back with no thoughts now of shame or alarm; she was confused, calm ... and talkative.

'Between my legs. I feel warm down there too.'

'Would you like me to check down there for you?'

A long pause followed. The nurse, watching Sandra closely, saw a brief frown flicker across her face as she made a last effort to throw off the confusion and fear that something was horribly wrong. But it quickly passed.

'Yes,' came her simple, unadorned assent.

Immediately she felt fingers on the front of her panties, the middle one gently and, very sensitively judging by her facial responses, finding the best spot, just over her clitoris. He saw her legs struggle to open a little wider, her breathing become ragged, and her eyes half close.

Then, suddenly and most unexpectedly, all the sensations stopped and she felt a flood of disappointment and deprivation. The nurse stepped back to Sandra's IV stand and made some adjustments and notes. Next, he was re-adjusting her nightie back to its normal respectability and drawing the sheets and blankets back up, all the way up over her breasts. Confusion piled on confusion as his face again filled her field of view, and he looked into her eyes.

'Sandra ...' he called, calmly but irresistibly it seemed to her, 'look at me. Look into my eyes.'

She did so immediately without question. If she obeyed, maybe the sensations would begin again.

'Good. Now, take a deep breath in ... and let it all the way out. Slowly in ... deeply out.'

She watched and obeyed, breathing calmly and relaxing more and more as his voiced droned on.

'Now you're feeling sleepy. Very sleepy. Notice how tired your eyes are. Tired and heavy.'

So they were! Sandra blinked a few times. She wanted to keep looking into the nurse's eyes as he spoke and gazed back but it was hard.

'Try to keep your eyes open,' he encouraged, as if reading her thoughts. 'Continue to look into my eyes ... but looking makes you sleepy. Sleepy. Sleepy.'

She blinked again and again, trying to return his steady, knowing gaze, but it became harder and harder.

'You're trying to look, but it will make you sleep. Look ... and sleep. Breathe in ... and look; breathe out ... and sleep.'

Sandra's eyes were closing lower and lower now as her passive mind gave up the struggle.

'As I count down now, your eyelids will grow heavier and heavier. Ten, breathe in ... and out. Nine. Heavier now, in ... and out. Eight ...'

Sandra went with the flow. With each blink she found it harder to open her eyes. 'Five ... in ... eyes very heavy now ... and out. Soon you will fall into a deep, hypnotic sleep.'

The word "hypnotic" went by without her giving it a second thought. Yes, soon she would be hypnotised. She wanted to be in a hypnotic sleep.

'Two ... One. Eyes closed. Fast asleep. Very, very good. Sandra, you are in a deep, hypnotic sleep. You feel very, very good.'

Yes, she did: it felt delightfully relaxing and strange. Her eyes were heavily closed and would not open—didn't want to open—and she was perfectly calm can comfortably warm all over. But Sandra could still hear his voice go on, and on. What was it saying?

Some time later—not too long she thought—Sandra realised she was still lying hypnotised in her bed but she found her head was much clearer now. She was more aware too, aware that time had passed but she couldn't think what had happened. Her nurse was still speaking to her and she found her body was still relaxed and her eyes still firmly closed, as she found when gave thought to opening them.

'Stop trying to open your eyes ... and relax,' he droned.

Sandra found that the trance held her still.

'Listen to me very carefully, Sandra. You can remember now ... but soon you will go into a deeper trance. You want to go into a deeper trance. You want to feel even more relaxed ... even more deeply asleep. When I count down to one again, you will be in a deep, deep trance, but you will remember no more. You will have no waking memory of what has happened tonight. You will not remember me at all. You want to sleep deeply, don't you, Sandra?'

'Yes'

'Three breathing in ... and out. Two ... relaxing deeper and deeper ... One. Sleeping and forgetting.'

Chapter 2

Hal was prepared and excited as he arrived for his evening shift. Tonight was the night he'd been preparing for for so long and he'd left very little to chance. A quick check on the computer at the top floor nurses' station showed that Sandra was in room 315 as expected. He'd feared some last-minute cancellation or change as happened only too often on the ward. Within a few minutes of starting his shift, he'd moved the drugs he'd so carefully researched and acquired from his locker to his obs trolley, out of sight of any of the security cameras. He had to make an effort to act normally and take his usual time with all the other patients on his list, leaving Sandra for last.

Hal had been able to find out all he needed to know about Sandra from a combination of the details available in the hospital system when she was booked in some weeks ago, and her Facebook public profile. He'd been waiting for weeks for the right girl. He wanted someone blonde and busty; not too tall, strong, or overweight; and someone in for a long stay but without a serious medical condition that might interfere with this plan. It was a tall order but he knew he'd find the right girl in the end, and she would be worth the wait. Then it had even been easy enough to shuffle the room allocations around to ensure Sandra ended up in the most secluded area of his area of responsibility, and with no high-care patients to deal with for the duration of her stay.

Sandra's appearance didn't disappoint Hal as he finally arrived in her room, doing his best to avoid any lascivious staring and to appear totally professional and congenial. He saw that she was surprised to see him and guessed it was the same uncomfortable feeling some female patients felt to have a male nurse with them while they were in bed in their pyjamas. Sandra's quick re-arrangement of her nightie confirmed his suspicions, and it actually helped his plan. Her self-consciousness made it less likely that she'd notice as he first injected an initial dose of one drug into her IV line and then set up a small extra IV bag and programmed a flow regulator to follow it up with a steady dose of two more drugs. Years of practise meant the job took barely a minute and Sandra's head was still blithely in her book as he came over to start her observations.

Time was on Hal's side from here on in. The first drug had a strong effect on memory, and the heavy dose so soon after his entry made it very unlikely that Sandra would even be able to remember him coming into the room, and certainly not anything that happened for the next half an hour or so. He had that long to gain control, but he couldn't move too fast as he daren't risk any shouting or loud struggles. The second drug would keep her awake and hopefully talkative; without it she'd either fall asleep or become unresponsive. The third, helped by the first, would make her calm, weak, and stupid, a combination that generally made for a cooperative and helpless patient, but the dosage was tricky and unpredictable.

Hal's plan was to keep the IV flow running at a constant measured rate so that Sandra's dose kept rising—incapacitating her progressively—until he was sure he would be able to easily place her into a drug-induced hypnotic trance. The tests he planned of her compliance had great fringe benefits for himself, and would be, he hoped, just a foretaste of better things to come.

As soon as he could see signs of a change in Sandra's face he made his first overt move. The neckline of her nightie easily allowed his hand to slip under onto the front of her bra and begin stroking and stimulating her nipple. Already her reactions were slow and muted and it was easy to stop her buzzing for help, but she needed a higher dose. As soon as Sandra calmed down a little Hal stepped away for a minute, allowing more drugs to flow inexorably into her arm and further impair her higher brain functions. His second attempt to stroke her nipples met with no resistance and Hal found her admission that the sensations were having the desired effect between her legs very arousing; his dick was throbbing but he strove to ignore it for the time being. Once Sandra consented to his stroking of her panties he knew she was ready. Watching her drugged mind struggle to open her own legs wider, and to feel and see the wet patch form in the centre of her gusset tested his forbearance to the limit. He stopped the flow of drugs and noted the exact dose Sandra had received. Next time a single quick injection into her IV line would have her in her current state within a minute, resist as she might. It was a disappointment to restore her clothes and bedding to their former state, to lose sight of that panty gusset and those erect nipples, but hypnosis demanded no distractions on either side.

In her drug-addled state, Sandra had no resistance to hypnosis at all. Hal had little experience so this was just as well, but calm, assertive, insistent commands worked just as he'd hoped. She stared deeply and blankly back into his eyes as soon as she was asked and was inexorably eased down into a trance, unable to keep her eyes open. Hal spent the next thirty minutes taking Sandra through a series of deepeners. This was probably more than was necessary, but he needed to make sure she was deeply hypnotised before the fast-acting memory blocker wore off. More importantly, he couldn't implant any post-hypnotic suggestions until her long-term memory was working again. Now she was ready and receptive and he used hypnosis to block her waking memory of the rest of the session, but her subconscious mind could and would remember what to do.

'... sleeping and forgetting. Now, Sandra, you will have no waking memory of this session, but your subconscious will remember and obey. What will your subconscious do, Sandra? Tell me.'

'Remember and obey.'

'And you'll have no waking memory. Tell me, Sandra.'

'No waking memory.'

'Very good. Now, obey, and tell me the truth. We're going to have an open discussion about many things. There will be no embarrassment. You can trust me, Sandra, and tell me everything. Do you enjoy orgasms, Sandra?'

'Yes.'

'When was your last orgasm?'

'Last night. I wasn't sure I would be able to have orgasms in hospital, so I wanted one on my last night.'

'Good, Sandra. Did you have sex with someone last night, Sandra?'

'Oh no. My boyfriend is away for three weeks, so I used my vibrator.'

'Very good, Sandra. Did you bring it with you to hospital?'

'Yes, it's in my bag in the second drawer.'

Hal quietly opened the drawer, soon found the vibrator and took it out, before going on with his conditioning.

'Sandra, would you like to learn how to have better and stronger orgasms?'

'Oh yes!'

'I can teach you, but you must obey my rules. Tell me what you must do for better and stronger orgasms.'

'I must obey your rules.'

'Obey my rules. Very, very good. Repeat the rules after me. Rule one: you will do as I say when I rub your nipple.'