This is a story about a psychoanalyst, his assistant and his nurse treating patients who are sexually dysfunctional. The real issue is who are more dysfunctional the patients or those who treat them?
You choose.
*
Part 1
Sammi meets Emma and Mike.
Even before Sammi had qualified as a nurse she had had doubts as to whether the profession was for her. After qualifying and spending time on the wards of an old, dirty and run down London hospital, those doubts were confirmed. She clearly wasn't cut out for it, well not for typical nursing.
She couldn't handle the bed pan and being a skivvy aspects, the squalor of the NHS and the stupid wages she got paid. So, with some reluctance, for deep down she was a firm believer in the principal of public health, she ditched her beliefs and joined the private sector.
She became a contract nurse, a temp, an agency employee. She registered with what she had been led to believe was the top agency in London. People she'd met in NHS hospitals had told her 'They only take people who pass the exams with flying colours.' Sammi had been in the top two percent of her year. They also, Sammi quickly learned from visiting the agency a few times and meeting numerous colleagues only took on well-presented nurses; the sort of blokes and girls you see in Holby City and Casualty, not the tatty sort you see in real hospitals. After passing the interview, taking loads of tests and being told she had been accepted, she discussed the sort of assignment, as they called them, not work or jobs as ordinary mortals would, she would prefer. At the time Sammi had no real idea what they were on about for she just assumed she would work in an NHS or private hospital at higher rates and with better working conditions than in the public sector. As it turned out the agency handled loads of different types of assignments in the UK and overseas thus, giving their contractors a wide choice. With advice from her "personal career councillor" Emma, based on two interviews and the results of her tests, it was decided that Sammi would be best suited and happiest working for consultants in their surgeries or in small hospitals.
"Upmarket, stylish ones," she said smiling, trying to appear cool and sophisticated.
"Yes Sammi of course, with fortyish, hellishly attractive consultants," Emma, beamed back, her big brown eyes seeming to bore right through the young blonde. "All the hospitals that retain us are er, how did you put it, upmarket and stylish?"
"Ok fine," the blonde muttered, suitably put in my place.
Emma came out from behind her desk and stood behind the young blonde nurse. Sammi guessed that Emma was in her late thirties or early forties. Dark, beautifully cut, shoulder-length hair, impeccable make-up and wearing a black pin stripe, stylish power suit with a tight pencil skirt and a three buttoned jacket showing a deep cleavage, she looked every bit the successful business woman that she was for she owned the nursing agency and several other businesses as well.
"We wouldn't dream of placing such an attractive nurse as you Sammi anywhere that wasn't perfect."
"Really, oh, I see." Sammi mumbled hesitantly, a little embarrassed.
The older woman rested her hands on the girl's shoulders. Sammi turned her head from one side to the other then back again. She saw a set of perfectly manicured, white-painted, square cut nails resting on each of her shoulders. It felt very intimate.
"No Sammi, your enjoyment of your time with us," the older woman went on as she increased the pressure a little, before continuing. "That we hope will be long, is as important as our client's pleasure will be at having you."
Emma was purposefully testing her new contract nurse. She was sending out signals and watching carefully how they would be received. In part it was because she was bi. Not that she would normally risk anything or mar her reputation just for a quick fuck with a young bimbo like Sammi, as welcoming and as appealing as that might be. No, she needed to know, and she got to know about her girls. Over a period she got to know everything about each one. That was her job an was part of the reason why the agency was the most popular, most expensive and most successful in its field. That was why her special clients held Emma and her agency in such high regard; she came up with the goods time and time again; and in the rarefied atmosphere of top end, international health care that was crucial.
Sammi audibly gulped making Emma suppress a smile.
"Was she coming onto me?" Sammi thought. "There seemed to be double meanings in everything? Was this a straightforward nursing agency, or was there a hidden agenda?" She began to wonder.
At the time, Sammi was approaching her twenty-fifth birthday. She lived in a flat just off Euston Road with three other girls. Other than the fucking awful nursing at the fucking awful hospitals and the fucking awful wages she earned, things were ok. She couldn't, though, have the lifestyle she wanted on those fucking awful wages. So, unbeknown to anyone, she did some modelling on the side, glamour photography stuff, mainly for amateur photographic clubs. Generally working "club" evenings she would pose for groups of between four and ten men in the forties or early fifties. They called the shots telling her how to pose and what to wear as they took some lingerie shots, her undressing, topless stuff, some nude, open legs and touching even. Roughly once a week or so she got booked for a one to one session that paid more, was far more intimate and, Sammi was finding, arousing.
The modelling paid well, she almost doubled her nurse's salary with it, but it was becoming more and more difficult to keep it a secret, hence, the decision to work on contract. There was, though, another reason why Sammi wanted to stop the photographic modelling. When she did the one to one sessions, increasingly she was being asked if she did "extras." She didn't, but her resistance was waning. After all spending up to two hours with a guy in various stages of undress, sometimes touching her breasts or, if she felt particularly generous, her pussy, as he said wonderful things about her body and took shots of it, can be quite arousing. As a general rule, the guys that booked her one to one were younger and, slightly, more appealing than the club members. Occasionally, they might even be quite fanciable and that is when she really had problems. She hated herself for it, but Sammi was finding it increasingly difficult to continue saying that she didn't do extras. Especially when she heard from other models she met who did offer extras that she could probably charge sixty quid or so for a few squeezes of her tits and a quick wank and around a hundred for a blow job. Easy, but dubious money, or was it she sometimes wondered? Higher paid nursing was far more preferable, she had concluded, hence the signing onto the books of Le Crème Nursing Consultancy.
They had made a big point in their ads and at the group interviews and assessment she had attended about the uniform or tunics that they supplied.
"Stylish, sophisticated and bespoke," was how they described it. "Clothes that will make you feel good as well as help your patients recover," they had explained
Sammi had assumed that the uniform differentiated La Crème from the staff of other agencies, in the hospitals and clinics, thus, acting as advertising for them, making the girls feel they were being treated well and meaning that the consultants and small hospitals didn't have to stump up for them. A neat arrangement all round, or so she thought.
"So Sammi, you had better have your fitting, so we can get your tunic made and get you some assignments as soon as possible, hadn't we?" Emma said removing her hands from the nurse's shoulders.
Sammi wasn't quite sure if she felt relieved or disappointed when the hands left her shoulders. Emma walked round her, picked up a file from her desk and leaned back against it, her long legs crossed at the ankle stretched out towards Sammi.
"Er, yes Emma, I suppose we had."
"What are you, size 10?"
"On a good day,"
"Height?"
"Five six"
"Weight?"
"Just over eight and half stone, one twenty pounds or so."
Emma looked up; pushing the reading glasses down her nose and looking over them went on.
"Mmmmm, nice build."
