Nurse's Orders

by Penny Birch

  ‘Come on, Gabby,’ Poppy urged, ‘she needs punishing, don’t you, Tasha?’

  Natasha’s answer was a muted sob. I moved close to touch the soggy panty seat stuck out so temptingly in front of me. Her pee had stopped but her panties were sodden from under her crotch to halfway up her bottom, the wet material plastered tight to her flesh and see-through, showing every detail of her sex and a good deal of her bottom.

  Poppy was still spanking away merrily, making Natasha’s bottom dance and spattering pee everywhere, including over her own front. She didn’t seem to care, laughing in time to Natasha’s moans and little, pained gasps.

  ‘You spank,’ I instructed. ‘I am going to masturbate her.’

  ‘Lucky bitch!’ Poppy laughed, and planted a yet harder smack across Natasha’s bottom.

  Natasha’s gasped at the impact, then again as I took hold of her wet panties and tugged them firmly up into the crease of her bottom, spilling out her fleshy cheeks to either side, wet and glossy with her pee and rosy pink from spanking.

  ‘That’s right, good and tight, right up her pussy!’ Poppy said. ‘Oh, you do look a sight, Tasha, with your big, fat bum all rosy and wet with pee and your little panties up your crease!’

  ‘My bum is not fat!’ Natasha complained.

  ‘Great!’ Poppy laughed. ‘She’s in plaster; she’s pissed her knickers and she’s getting a spanking, and she’s more worried about having a fat bum! It is fat, isn’t it, Gabby? It’s certainly wobbly.’

  As she spoke she had put her hand to Natasha’s bottom, making the cheeks squash out, then smacking again, and laughing as they bounced.

  ‘Fat!’ Poppy declared. ‘Big and fat, a big, fat wobbly bottom!’

  ‘It’s not as big as yours,’ Natasha answered.

  Poppy’s response was a furious salvo of slaps, full across Natasha’s cheeks to set her squealing and kicking her legs. I held on tight, hauling the damp panties well up, to force her bottom high and keep it still for punishment. As I did so the wet material pulled tight in between her sex-lips, spilling them out, bare and wet. I cupped her sex, feeling the damp flesh and the pee-soaked cotton. She was warm and I was sure she was ready. Pushing my fingers into her crease, I began to rub at her sex through the wet panty cotton. She moaned in response.

  ‘That’s right, Miss Pissy-Panties,’ Poppy called, ‘come with your wet knicks up your pussy and your big fat bottom stuck in the air! Come while I spank you!’

  Natasha moaned again and Poppy began to spank harder still, really laying in to make the now red buttocks dance and quiver. I started to rub faster, cupping her whole sex, with just one finger pushed tight into her crotch. She began to grunt to the smacks, her bottom-cheeks clenching and her thigh muscles tightening.

  ‘She’s going to come,’ Poppy said. ‘She’s really going to come. That’s right, Miss Pissy-Panties, let it happen, show us what a slut you are. Imagine it, wetting your knickers in front of us and getting off on it, you dirty little slut, you…’

  She stopped as Natasha cried out in ecstasy. I felt her pussy twitch under my hand, tightening, and she was coming, gasping and panting out her ecstasy, her feet in her pee-puddle, her fingers clutching at air, her buttocks in frantic contraction even as they danced to Poppy’s furious slaps.

  We kept at her until she started to go limp, when Poppy stopped and I let go of her panties. She slumped slowly down, her knees going wide, into the puddle of her own pee which had spread out beneath her, but too far gone to care.

  ‘That was fun,’ Poppy declared happily. ‘Fun, but hardly a punishment.’

  ‘True,’ I agreed.

  ‘I got put in a pillory once,’ Poppy said, ‘at this place in Wiltshire. They pelted me with rotten fruit, mud, even horse shit. I’ve wanted to do it to someone else ever since.’

  ‘No, please,’ Natasha managed.

  ‘Yes, I think so,’ I told her, ‘after all, you thought it would be funny to put tomato and eggs in my hair, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, but I didn’t do it!’

  ‘I’ll get the eggs and tomatoes,’ Poppy said, climbing to her feet.

  ‘Thank you,’ I told her, ‘and there is that big pot of natural yoghurt open as well. We can spare that.’

  Natasha gave a hollow groan as Poppy skipped out of the room. I quickly cleared part of one wall and spread out another play sheet, the biggest I had. She lay still, unresisting, as I did my best to mop up her pee and pulled off her soggy panties, leaving her nude but for the cast encasing her middle and trapping her arms. Before I was finished Poppy came back with my large mixing bowl. Natasha looked at the contents with an expression of utter disgust. Poppy kicked her bottom.

  ‘Get over there, kneeling up!’ she ordered.

  ‘Yes, miss,’ Natasha sighed, pulling herself to her knee.

  ‘Stay on the sheets,’ I added. ‘You’re covered in pee, you disgusting girl!’

  She gave me the most wonderful look, full of accusation and self-pity, but waited as I moved the sheet to let her crawl over on her knees.

  ‘Which way?’ she asked miserably as she reached the wall. ‘My bum?’

  ‘No, your front, ‘I told her, ‘but don’t worry, we will see that your bottom gets a fair share. So kneel right up, facing us, knees nice and wide, chest out.’

  She obeyed, crawling slowly round to get into position, kneeling with her legs open to show her sex, with her pubic hair plastered to her skin. Sat straight, she pushed out her breasts and looked up, her eyes wide with uncertainty. I picked up an egg. Poppy chose a tomato. Natasha gave a sob and ducked her head down to hide her face.

  I threw the egg. It caught her beautifully, right on the top of her head, bursting in her hair to spatter her with the contents and bits of eggshell. Poppy laughed and threw her tomato, which hit Natasha’s shoulder, to splash juice and pips out in a star shape, dirtying her face and chest. I tried another egg, which burst on her plaster cast, spattering her chest and legs, even as one from Poppy exploded on the crown of her head. My next egg caught her chest and I switched to tomatoes, laughing as hard as Poppy as the soft red fruit burst over Natasha’s skin, soiling her utterly as she gasped and jerked to the impacts and mess ran down her skin.

  By the time five of the six eggs and the entire bag of tomatoes had gone she was filthy, her hair matted, sitting in a pool of mess, with even her pubic hair clogged with tomato pips and bits of red pulp. Poppy was going to throw the final egg, but I stopped her, sure there was a better place for it. Putting my finger to my lips, I nodded to Natasha’s open thighs. Poppy grinned back.

  As the bombardment stopped, Natasha looked up, her face a pale oval in a frame of wet curls. Her hair was a mess, running filthy with egg and tomato, and plastered with bits of shell and skin. In comparison her face was clean, except for a single trickle of juice and pips running down over her forehead. Her chest was anything but clean, her breasts both thoroughly soiled, splashed with food, which was running slowly down over them. A burst egg covered one nipple, with bits of shell sticking to the erect teat and a piece of yolk hanging down from the tip. The other had got off relatively lightly, so I scooped up a handful of mixed tomato pulp and egg from between her legs and smeared it over the dangling globe, rubbing it well into her nipple. Poppy moved up beside me, the yoghurt pot in her hand. Natasha looked at it and bit her lip.

  ‘In her face,’ I suggested.

  ‘My thoughts exactly,’ Poppy answered, scooping out a handful of the thick yoghurt.

  Natasha groaned, and shut her eyes and mouth an instant before the handful was slapped into her face. Poppy was laughing as she rubbed it in, making sure nothing was spared. When she stopped, Natasha came up gasping to display her filthy face, with both eyes closed by mess and bits of yoghurt hanging from her nose and chin. I added a handful of tomato and egg from the mat for good measure, pressing some into her open mouth to leaving her spitting bits of shell and tomato peel.

  ‘Bottom!’ Poppy declared happily, scooping up
yet more mess to reach around behind Natasha and slap it to the out-thrust globes of her behind.

  I added my own handful, Natasha grunting in shock as it was smeared up between her cheeks, and gasping as my finger found her anus and slipped inside, well lubricated with egg yolk. For a moment I fingered her until the noises she was making began to change from disgust to pleasure, when I stopped. Poppy giggled, and held up the egg.

  ‘No, please, not that,’ Natasha moaned, shaking her head as Poppy’s arm went down.

  Natasha’s face was a sight to see as the egg was put to her sex. Her mouth hung slack at first, surrendered to the inevitable with no more than a trace of disgust. As the egg was put to her hole, the look of disgust abruptly deepened, only to be replaced by shock as her vagina began to fill, then far, far stronger disgust as the egg burst in her hole, to spatter its contents over her sex and on to the mat beneath her.

  Most of the egg actually stayed in her, the shell anyway, with white dripping out, and a beard of mess hanging from her sex-lips. Poppy laughed so hard at the sight that she fell over backwards, clutching herself as she rolled on the floor, unable to look at the filthy Natasha without breaking into new hysterics.

  I was little better, my face fixed in a grin which simply would not go away as I watched the muck drip slowly down Natasha’s body and on to the floor. It was erotic too, unquestionably, for all the perversity of becoming excited over the sight of a beautiful girl soiled and humiliated. Finally Poppy managed to get herself under control and sat up, grinning broadly as she admired the mess we had made of Natasha.

  ‘Does that pay for the needles?’ Poppy asked me.

  ‘Possibly,’ I admitted. ‘I am not sure.’

  ‘I don’t think it does at all,’ Poppy answered. ‘You were in a real state. This is just a bit of fun really, by comparison.’

  ‘No, it is not!’ Natasha answered firmly. ‘I’m filthy, and my pussy’s full of egg and my bumhole feels all slimy, and I can’t even move!’

  ‘Oh, dear, poor thing!’ Poppy laughed. ‘OK, we’ll count it a half.’

  ‘No!’ Natasha protested. ‘It’s a whole! And you made me pee my knickers, and you spanked me. That should be all!’

  ‘Hardly all,’ I answered her. ‘Still, for now, we will wash you. Help me carry her to the bathroom, Poppy, in the sheet.’

  We took hold of the sheet, lifting it by the corners, to half carry, half drag Natasha into the bathroom and heave her into the shower. I was about to turn the tap on when Poppy stopped me.

  ‘There’s more than one way to wash a dirty girl,’ she said. ‘Come on, strip off, let’s piss on her.’

  She began to strip immediately, peeling off as fast as she could. I joined her, while Natasha squatted miserably in the shower, her eyes wide, peering from a mask of mess. Nude, Poppy climbed in to straddle Natasha’s head, her sex pushed out.

  ‘Open wide,’ Poppy ordered.

  To my surprise, Natasha obeyed, her mouth coming open, her pretty lips well parted, right in front of Poppy’s sex.

  ‘Good girl,’ Poppy said, ‘you see, she likes a little pee pee in her mouth, and she’s going to get it.’

  Poppy made a little noise in the back of her throat, and I saw the muscles of her tummy tense. I pushed in behind her, close, even as pee spurted from Poppy’s sex full into Natasha’s open mouth, filling it and bubbling from the sides to run down over her chin and splash on her bare breasts, washing the filthy mixture of yoghurt, egg and tomato down in a stream of yellowish slurry.

  ‘Swallow, bitch!’ Poppy ordered.

  Immediately Natasha swallowed, closing her mouth so that Poppy’s stream exploded full in her face, splashing her lips and cheeks, before she managed to open up again.

  ‘Yes, she’s drinking it!’ Poppy laughed. ‘She’s drinking my pee, Gabby! Go on, Tasha, more!’

  Natasha obeyed, or tried to, choking the instant she tried to swallow her mouthful of piddle, to send her into a coughing fit, pee bursting out of her mouth and nose, to splash in Poppy’s pubic hair and over her belly. Poppy just laughed, and directed her stream a little lower. With urine now splashing over her breasts, Natasha struggled to get her breath back, gasping and coughing, with pee still running out from the sides of her mouth. Plenty had come out of her nose too, leaving a long streamer of mucus hanging from the tip, which broke to fall on to one breast, just as Poppy’s stream died away, so that it stayed there, hanging from the tip of Natasha’s nipple.

  Poppy gave a little wiggle to shake the last few drops of pee out over Natasha’s breasts and squeezed herself into the corner of the shower, making room for me. I took hold of Natasha’s hair to pull back her head, and her mouth came wide in expectation. I moved close, pressing my sex to her face to rub her nose on myself for a moment before I let my bladder go, full into her mouth.

  It felt glorious, my pee gushing into her open mouth and back against my sex, hot and wet. I looked down, watching as she struggled to drink what she could, with piddle splashing out from around her open lips, to cascade down over her breasts. She was already in a pool of it on the plastic sheet, broad and yellow, full of mess, with her bare bottom sat right in it. More was coming too, right into her mouth, and she was trying to kiss my sex and drink it at the same time, lost to her need for submission.

  When my pee died away she didn’t stop licking. I stayed in place, holding her head as she lapped at my pussy, soiled and filthy beneath me, my plaything, eager to please despite what I’d done, despite the bellyful of urine we’d given her.

  Poppy came to me as Natasha licked, to kiss me and stroke my breasts. I responded, hugging her and slipping a hand down to the moist crevice of her sex, enjoying each other, making love as Natasha grovelled, nude and filthy at our feet.

  I came first, full in Natasha’s face, with Poppy’s mouth open to mine. Natasha wasted no time, utterly subservient to us as she moved straight to Poppy’s sex to bury her face in among the wet black curls the moment it was presented to her. Moments later, Poppy had also come, and we were hugging and giggling together, still standing over the thoroughly punished Natasha.

  ‘Do I get to come, please?’ she asked from beneath us.

  ‘Don’t be a slut,’ Poppy answered. ‘You get to come when we say so, not before. Isn’t that right, Gabrielle?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ I agreed. ‘Now be quiet, Natasha.’

  We showered and washed Natasha down as best we could, including her cast. Towels and powder finished the job, along with a well-creamed bottom-hole for Natasha. Poppy and I dressed once more, leaving Natasha naked. She took it patiently until she was clean, dry and sat on my couch, waiting helplessly for us to release her, or continue her torment.

  ‘Am I…are you finished with me?’ she asked doubtfully as I sat down across from her.

  ‘No,’ I told her, ‘that pays for the needle and for the enema, as you gave us such nice orgasms, but that is not all. Now, what else did you do? Oh, yes, you gave me to Monty Hartle so that he could abuse me and make me his sex toy, did you not?’

  ‘No!’ she answered. ‘I didn’t! That’s not fair!’

  ‘No?’ I asked. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes…’ she began and stopped, looking at Poppy, who had raised a finger and was wagging it meaningfully.

  ‘OK, I did,’ she admitted. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘You also lied to me.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said miserably. ‘What are you going to do to me?’

  ‘We are going to make the punishment fit the crime. Now that Poppy and I are together I can not really be expected to provide for Monty’s perverse urges. So the job is yours, starting tonight.’

  ‘Tonight? No, please, Gabrielle – not Monty, anything but Monty!’

  ‘Monty,’ I said firmly. ‘He will be expecting us. In fact, we had better hurry.’

  She was looking genuinely scared but she gave no protest, really too high on her own submission to object. We put her in her coat and boots, naked
underneath, and helped her down the stairs and out into the street. She had parked quite close and it was dark and cold, so we managed to get to her car without attracting attention and bundled her into the boot, to her renewed protests.

  Poppy drove, south through London, to the street in Croydon where Monty lived. He was waiting, beaming all over his fat face as we opened the door and pushed Natasha inside. He was ready too, with a brand new spanking video running, a stack of pizzas in the kitchen and two six packs of beer by his chair. Everything was arranged and we made ourselves comfortable in his living room, eating pizza and drinking beer as we watched the video, with Natasha arranged over the table, her bare bottom stuck out towards us. She had guessed what was going to happen to her, perhaps as early as when we’d lubricated her anus, and said nothing, just squirmed in her cast, with her creamy little hole pulsing and twitching between her cheeks.

  Monty was sat back, at ease, watching the pony-tailed blonde on the TV as she was made to repeatedly pull her panties up and down by the dirty old man who was supposedly her uncle. He had pulled out his cock and nodded to me before reaching for a slice of pizza. I gave Poppy a questioning look, but she just shrugged and sat back to watch as I got down on all fours to take Monty’s cock in my mouth as he pulled up his belly for me. He was soon hard, stiffening in my mouth to the sound of the blonde’s breathless squeals as she was spanked.

  Ready, he pushed the last of his pizza slice into his mouth and got down on his knees, pressing his cock up between Natasha’s buttocks. She moaned as she felt it press to her flesh, and gave a broken sob as he took it in hand, pushing lower, to the slick, ready hole of her anus. Poppy and I watched, fascinated, as her bumhole stretched slowly open around the head of his penis, accommodating him really quite easily, or at least a lot more easily than I had done.