Monday, August 19, 2019

No Clothes Until you Leave the Hospital

clothed female naked male

What a lovely CFNM scene

I can think of quite a few stories to go with this. How about you? Do you write spanking, Femdom, medical fetish, CFNM, nurse fetish or other fetish stories?

What does CFNM stand for? Clothed Female, Naked Male

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1 comment:

  1. I've tried to explain this photo many times and failed for various reasons. I hope that I'm successful here. As you can see, I was younger at the time. My lean and hairless body has since matured and filled out, my skin wrinkled with the passage of decades. For the record, I still love the stern face of a nurse, and the deserved repercussions when I disobey those saintly women of the uniform.

    You may wonder how I ended up there, in the Nurses Office under the care of no less than two nurses. In fact, in the black and white image there I'm trying to explain that very thing to the Head Nurse. How Tommy had started a regular old mud fight first and that's what really caused the whole thing to go crazy, with the rocks later. I know we got a little Tarzan about it all. I mean, I was so happy 'cause I found this boulder that sprayed mud up into Tommy's blond hair and eyebrows. It was a great fight, ha! Well, at least until the end.

    Anyway, I was just trying to defend myself, but he kept throwing things in the mud puddle and it was his fault that my clothes got so dirty. Well, I defend myself for about 10 minutes and then the idiot decides to just chuck the rocks right at me, instead of at the muddy water. Well, I couldn't let *that* go, so I started throwin' em back. Not at his head or anything, just the body. I think I got that sucker more than he got me, except at the end with the head shot. That one musta brained me good because that's when I woke up with two nurses staring down at me on the table, me being stark naked with a big lump on my noggin.

    People of the modern era don't realize how nurses were in the days of that photo. They weren't your friend. Nor advisors. They didn't demand your participation in discussions. They were an Authority Figure. They told you what to do and you did it. Much the same as parents, teachers and other adults.

    You've heard the famous quote that the eyes are the windows to the soul. In the age of rotary phones and starched nurse uniforms, your bottom was the key to your deportment, and a gateway to your mental and physical well-being. With my head injury, the nurses spared no technique of assessing my health. They had me turn over on the table and lie over a pillow. I could feel as one slowly inserted the thermometer between the smooth cheeks of my bottom. They did a full physical exam, front and back, to look for other rock injuries.

    When we finally went to the office, the nurses decided that an enema would probably solve whatever ailed me aside from the head lump, and I could finally be discharged after that, but the Head Nurse needed to know exactly what had happened, sparing nothing. In the photo, I didn't want to tell her everything so I fibbed a little. Well, she found out somehow (I think Tommy was there too) and all I can tell you is an enema isn't fun to begin with, but nurses can also spank very, very hard and you don't ever want to find out how a bad spanking with an enema chaser feels, trust me!

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