Nurse Susan

From: Sarah3333 ([email protected])

Nurse Susan, fictional story by Randy. For adults only. Pure fiction. Do not read if under 18.

Susan Rennie was the nurse at the small, Christian elementary school I attended outside Macon, Georgia in the 1950s. As she was the unmarried sister of the principal, Mr. Joshua Rennie, and the person responsible for disciplining unruly students, Nurse Susan was much feared by the students. It was perfectly all right to be sent to her office for a scraped knee or a sore stomach since she had a wonderfully caring way with any sick charges. But woe to the student whose teacher sent them to Nurse Susan with a pink slip.

Each homeroom teacher had a pad of pink slips in their desk. This pad appeared whenever a student was disrespectful, used foul language, lied, fought with other students, tormented a weaker kid, threw spitballs, or violated some other school rule. The offence was hastily scribbled on the slip, folded over, and given to the offender with the instruction, "Please see Nurse Susan at the next study period". With two 40 minute study periods in the school day - one at 10:30 and the other at 2:20 - one didn't have long to wait.

Most time, when one arrived at Nurse Susan's office with a pink slip, one was alone. That was the way it was on my first visit, not long after transferring in to Baptist Day School at the fourth grade. I had been caught swearing on the playground which was a serious offence back then, especially at that age. Since it was not a class period, I was taken inside to my homeroom teacher who quickly filled out a pink slip and told me to see Nurse Susan.

I had heard enough stories to be fearful and repent my action at the first sight of that pink pad, but my homeroom teacher brushed off my excuses and promises of good behavior. So off I trudged to Nurse Susan's office.

It was located at the far end of the two story building, far from the classrooms down near the administrative offices. To get there, one walked down a corridor past the other classrooms, through a double door, and down another hallway past three administrative offices, the teacher's lodge, and the principal's office. Since the doors to these offices were open to the hall at all times, the five female administrators and secretaries all looked up and smiled as me as I did my best to hide the pink slip in my right hand.

Nurse Susan's office was the only one with a closed door. I knocked and stood there, praying I could get in quickly and escape the gaze of the two whispering secretaries in the office just across the hall. Nurse Susan called out, "Come in" and I quickly opened the door and stepped inside. She was sitting at a desk, filling out some papers when I closed the door behind me. With a quick glance in my direction and at the pink slip in my hand, she said, "Have a seat, young man. I'll be with you in a minute."

The minute ticked by on the large, electric clock humming on the wall, and another minute after that, and still another. It took her five minutes to finish whatever she was doing. Finally, she put the folder away, pushed her rolling chair out from her desk and swivelled in my direction.

"All right, child. What have you done today? Please give me your slip."

I handed it to her, my throat suddenly dry as a bone, and stood there as she read it.

"Randy Sutter. You're new this year, aren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," I replied, suddenly conscious of her white, starched nurse's uniform and her big black shoes.

"Hmmm. We'll have to start a file for you. Hold on a minute."

She opened a desk drawer, pulled out a manilla folder, wrote my name on the tab sticking up, and wrote something down on the bottom of the pink slip before dropping it inside the folder. She then stood up, held out her hand, and said, "Come with me, child."

"Wha ... where are we going?" I asked as I held out my hand reluctantly?

"Into my inner office, young man. Come along now."

She led me around a partition past two small beds through a door into a small, rear office with a desk, an examining table, and a sink. Locking the door behind her with a key produced from a side pocket, she sat down on a chair and pulled me forward until I was standing directly in front of her. After smoothing her dress on her lap, she took hold of my chin and made me look right in her eye.

"You know why you have been sent here, young man, don't you?"

"Fo... for swearing, ma'am," I stammered.

"Yes, for using the Lord's name in vain, Randy. And also to be punished so you learn not to do that again. I am in charge of punishing naughty children at Baptist Day and I'm going to punish you right now so you learn swearing is not permitted. Now stand still. This is your first trip here but it probably won't be your last according to what your mother tells me."

At the mention of my mother, my heart started pounding even faster as I wondered what she had said. Taking my wrists in one hand behind my back, Nurse Susan reached with the other hand and undid my belt and the snap on my school pants. When I immediately protested loudly, she said, "If you put up a fight, young man, it will be much worse for you and all the secretaries will hear across the hall."

"What are you doing," I protested, lowering my voice to an angry, fearful whisper.

"What do you think I'm doing, child?" With a quick tug, she lowered my pants down to my knees and added, "I'm going to give you what every naughty child with a foul mouth gets at Baptist Day, a good spanking."

At that, I lost all control and started struggling as hard as I could, all to no avail as she tipped me over her large lap and pulled me forward. With my feet no longer touching the ground, it was impossible to get any leverage to escape her lap. An with my wrists still held tightly behind me, I could not even reach back to protect myself. Acutely conscious of making too much noise, I begged and threatened and promised all sorts of things in a loud whisper in an attempt to save myself at the last minute.

"You can fuss all you want, child, but every bad boy who comes to my office with a pink slip has a spanking coming and a spanking is what you're going to get. For being so insubordinate, you've earned yourself extra time over my knee. You mother suggested it might take a number of visits to my office before you learned to obey a new set of rules and regulations and it looks like she was right."

As she spoke, she tugged my cotton underpants down to my tangled pants and brought her right hand down a second later with a very loud smack.

"Nooooo! Not on the bare! Nooooo! You can't do that. Stop that! I"ll tell my mother on you!"

"Your mother is in full agreement with our disciplinary policies at Baptist Day, Randy. She has already signed a consent form allowing me to punish you whenever you break one of our rules. Since Principal Rennie is a firm believer in the benefits of traditional discipline for naughty school children, you will be punished just like every other bad boy or girl here ... with a spanking on your naughty bare bottom."

By then, I was too busy responding to the rapid barrage of stinging spanks to be able to discuss school policies with Nurse Susan. She spanked with the measured gusto I knew from my mother and was clearly skilled in reducing her charges to tears and genuine repentance. With my bare bottom arched high over her right knee and my face down near the tiled floor, I felt more like a second grader than a big boy in fourth grade. And by the end of two or three minutes, I was starting to sound like one. Ignoring my pleas for mercy, Nurse Susan paused to readjust me on her lap and tighten her grip before continuing.

"Since this is your first spanking from me, Randy, I want to make sure it is sufficiently memorable so I don't see you again in the near future. A spanking which serves as a warning rather than a punishment is a waste of time and needs to be repeated far too often. Since this is your first offense, I will not be giving you a taste of my paddle. But make no mistake. I will not be so generous the second time around. If you are caught swearing again, you will be spanked, stood in the corner for a while and then paddled. I have lots of experience dealing with naughty boys like you who are too big for their britches."

As my spanking continued, the fire in my bottom eventually went beyond anything I could endure and I completely broke down, crying and promising to be good and carrying on like a big crybaby. None of this made any difference to Nurse Susan. She kept spanking me with her big, right hand, with an almost machine-like precision, alternating from one cheek to the other and finding what seemed to be an inexhaustible series of tender places on my bottom. The spanks echoed loudly along with my cries, as I had long forgotten the secretaries across the hall and in the other nearby offices. All I knew was that I was a bad boy receiving a time-honored punishment.

When my spanking finally ended some ten minutes after it began, I was a very contrite and obedient schoolboy and allowed myself to be led to a corner, still crying, while Nurse Susan went back into her outer office. She sat down at her desk and wrote a short letter on a piece of school stationery which she put into an envelope, sealed, and addressed. She then wrote some notes on another piece of blank paper and put it into the manilla folder marked with my name before filing it among similar folders in her filing cabinet. She then came back into the inner office and brought me over to her chair where she sat down, pulling up my clothes. After going over my misbehavior and my punishment and reminding me that the same thing would happen every time I got a pink slip, she gave me a hug, told me all was forgiven, and made me promise to be good in the future. On my way out, she handed me the envelope and told me to deliver it to my mother and return it the next day with her signature, in another sealed envelope.

That night, and on all furture nights after I returned with a letter to my mother from Nurse Susan, I received a second spanking at bedtime. Nurse Susan seemed to know something about this the next day given the remarks she made when I returned the signed letter. Though that was my first trip to Nurse Susan's office, it was not my last. As much as I tried to avoid any more pink slips, I managed to earn a pink slip once a month or so. Since my mother often told me how glad she was to have me in a school with real discipline, I eventually wondered if she had asked my homeroom teacher, Mrs. Klonders, to be extra vigilant in my case. It seemed like I was getting more pink slips than the other trouble makers in the class.

When the school year ended, mother announced that my grades were not good enough in English and that I was going to be tutored in composition, reading, and vocabulary that summer.

On Friday afternoon two weeks into summer vacation my mother dropped me off at a small, primly kept house for what was to become a regular, weekly afternoon of tutoring. You an imagine my surprise when Nurse Susan opened the front door, still dressed in her crisp white uniform, and smiled at the shock on my face. I had to sit in her parlor for more than a half hour while my mother discussed my poor work habits and need for greater motivation with Nurse Susan with frequent asides about how my behavior at school was improving thanks to her help.

"Susan, when Randy fails to complete his homework properly or doesn't pay attention, I want you to give him the same kind of old fashioned reminder you give naughty boys at school."

Randy turned beet red as Nurse Susan smiled warmly at him and said: "Don't worry, June. I won't hesitate to apply an old fashion remedy if I see incomplete homework or daydreaming. I know how to get a lazy schoolboy's attention if he gets distracted."

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