Case History 2

Subject: Margaret B. Age: 16

INTERVIEW ONE

Margaret B. Was a pretty enough girl, but there was something definitely lacking about her, and that was energy. She just didn't seem to have much of it, certainly none to spare. I wondered, immediately, if her problem was a physical or a psychological one, or both!

Well, Doctor, you know I'm only here because I have to be here, not because I want to be.

Well, maybe that's not the whole story! At least, I get out of some classes because of you. Are you really interested in me? Yeah?

Okay, then, I'll tell you what I know, and maybe you can make some sense of it.

I see you have some papers in front of you. That's a report on me, isn't it. No, don't bother to deny it. When you stepped out of the room for a minute, I leaned over your desk and took a look.

Now, don't you look shocked, Doctor! That isn't a very professional reaction, now is it?

Besides, why shouldn't I take a look? I'm the one who's here against her will, not you or any of those other fuddy-duddies who call themselves teachers. Teachers, shit! They so stupid they wouldn't know a bite on the ass from a hole in the ground.

But that's not what you want to hear, is it.

You want to hear all about the terrible things I had to endure at the hands of Nurse Sandra Malinowsky so you can get your jollies off.

Hey, you're looking shocked again! I'm gonna have to try to break you of that habit!

But, then, why should I do you any favors? You're probably as bad as all those other hypocrites at the school and at the church! You're all the same. Your shit doesn't stink to hear you tell about it, but when you come right down to it, you're as nasty thinking and sneaky as the devil himself! No, you can't tell me any better!

It's just lies, all lies. All you people lie through your teeth all the time! The only difference between you people and most common, ordinary, everyday liars is that you're professional liars.

You get paid for lying!

Well, I'm gonna tell you the truth.

I don't know what good it will do. It certainly never made any difference before when I told the truth.

So, listen! I may be just only sixteen, but a sixteen year old knows plenty, plenty!

And you just remember that!

And I certainly know enough to know that most so-called adults are liars and hypocrites and cheats.

And that's the best of them.

I sure do hope that by the time I grow up, I'm not as messed up as most of you people already are.

People say I don't have any energy.

Yeah, they say that because that's what I want them to say. That's what I want them to think.

My idea is the more you let people think you can do, the more the want you to do ... and usually for them, for their own good, not for your own!

So I go slow, as slow as I can.

Even when I feel like moving, I just take myself in hand and say, "Hold on there, Margaret girl, slow down! You start moving like you can actually move when you want to and people will want you to be moving and doing what they want you to do all the time. Then they'll have you right where they want you.

In their pockets!

By the balls!

Doc, if you could see the expression on your face! That's so funny! You have no cool at all, none!

I say 'balls' and your eyebrows go up about six inches.

Balls! See that? That's funny.

Yeah, yeah, I'll tell you what happened.

I was sitting around in Home Eco class, that's what we call it, Home Eco. And old lady Sullivan finally takes it in her fat, old head that she can't stand my listlessness any more.

Little does she realize that that so-called listlessness of mine took me years to develop.

Yeah, I used to catch myself letting my guard down and moving at the same 'normal' rate of speed everybody else does.

And then I would say to myself, "Margaret girl, you just slow down and go at your own pace."

Anyhow, old lady Sullivan can't stand it any more. I finally got to her.

We were making a cake, a chocolate cake, and the other girls already had their batter mixed, their pans greased, and their ovens hot.

Me, I still had all the basic ingredients sitting on the countertop, right where I'd put them at the beginning of class.

Oh, I was making progress. I had all the stuff divided up in piles arranged according to process. That's a fancy Home Eco way of saying what comes first comes first, what comes second comes second, and so forth.

Anyhow, all the other girls were way ahead of me in making their cakes, of course. They're always ahead of me.

Because that's how I want it.

Who wants to be first?

Not me! If you're first once, everybody expects you to be first twice, and twice means three times.

And from then on it's downhill all the way.

Oh, I know what I'm talking about, all right.

My father was a decent person, the only person I ever really liked at all, actually, A real nice guy!

And what happened to him?

He died when I was fourteen!

And you know why? He moved too fast. He got everybody used to expecting a lot from him, and boy did they ever!

People used him any way you can name how! You wanted something done, you just got my father to do it for you. So there I was, sitting by the big counter in Home Eco just staring at the ingredients that were supposed to be becoming a cake.

And old Miss Sullivan catches my eye by waving her bony old finger back and forth, back and forth in front of her crumby face.

She's got a face like a crumb cake that's been left to dry out in the pantry for six weeks! Did you know that? Well, she has.

Anyhow, she waves me over to her desk. Desk, ha! It's a hole-in-the-wall over by the big freezer.

So I ease myself up out of the chair and about five minutes later I get over to her desk.

She's all impatient and going crazy, of course. You'd be amazed how just moving slowly, real slowly, drives people crazy!

They can't stand it! They're so used to going at top speed, they just can't deal with someone who makes like a snail.

As far as they're concerned, moving slow is anti-American or something.

"I want you to go see the visiting nurse, Margaret," old lady Sullivan tells me, her false teeth clicking every time she says a word.

God, that makes me sick! I just hate standing near her when she talks. Click, click, click, that's all I get out of it.

"What for?" I ask her, taking about a minute and a half to get the two words out of my mouth.

"Well, Margaret, I think there's something wrong with you, something physically wrong. A nice looking young girl like you shouldn't be so listless and lifeless. Why, when I was your age, I was a regular ball of fire!"

"Yeah?" I tell her. "When you were my age? When was that, 1776?" Well, that did it!

She gave me a pass and sent me down to the nurse's office.

Of course, it took me almost two hours to get there. After all, the visiting nurse's office is at the other end of the school, and the school is almost a whole city block long.

But I finally wound up standing right outside the nurse's office. I just couldn't put it off any longer, no matter how slow I tried to go I had already missed my swimming, math and English Lit class just walking from the Home Eco kitchen! After all, I never miss an excuse to get out of class! Like I said, that's the only reason I'm bothering with you, Doc.

You aren't any different than the rest of them.

So, as I was saying, there I am, just about to knock on the door of the visiting nurse's office, and it opens all by itself!

And standing there is just about the most beautiful woman I think I've ever seen. She was like a movie star or a Greek goddess or something fantastic like that.

I could hardly believe my eyes.

It took a real effort on my part not to forget my self-training and I almost expressed some interest.

But I caught myself in time and managed to look completely unimpressed and uninterested, although I was for a change.

How could I not be, no?

There she was, a blond goddess! It's not every day you come across a person who looks that good.

Why, she was so good looking she even looked good in those silly uniforms nurses have to wear.

"I saw your shadow on the door," she explained. "My name is Sandra Malinowski. Nurse Malinowski, if you please. Come in."

So in I walked.

But if I had known what she was going to do to me, once she locked the door behind her, I would never have gone in.

You can bet on that.

Because no sooner did I get in the room, and she starts reading a report on me, just like you were doing an hour ago.

And then she says, "Well, Margaret, it seems you're chronically sluggish and characteristically listless. But don't you worry about it. I have just the thing to fix that up!"

And you know what it was she had for me?

Oh, god, she had an enema! An enema!

I was so shocked I didn't hardly know what to do!

But then I realized that the hour was up, and I had to gently cut Margaret short, which I regretted having to do. But when you have a practice as successful as mine, you can only give each patient the allotted time, or nothing would ever get done, and I do believe in helping as many as possible.

INTERVIEW TWO

The next session, Margaret got to the office ten minutes late. I explained to her, firmly but gently, that that was wrong, not only because the school was paying for her treatment, but also because it gave her less time to tell me her story, which was essential if I was to be able to help her.

So, who cares? Like I told you, Doc, there isn't anything wrong with me. That's just the impression I give to keep people off my back!

But I couldn't keep Nurse Malinowski off my back! No way! I couldn't even keep her out of my ass!

I tried resisting her. Who wants an enema? Not me, that's for sure.

Not only that, but I didn't like the look in Nurse Malinowski's eyes, if you get what I mean. She was just too anxious to give me that enema, I can tell you that much without any doubt.

She was too devoted to her work, if you follow me.

And I wasn't about to be helping some one get their rocks off, even if that someone was a beautiful, blond, Greek goddess!

So I turned around and was headed for the door. It was the first time in years I moved so fast.

And I would have made it out, too. In fact, I almost did. But I wasn't used to the lock on the door, and by the time I got through fiddling with it, she was up from behind her desk and on me.

And I mean on me!

She was like a tiger or something. I didn't have a chance with her, none!

She grabbed my arm and twisted it around in back of me. It's called a half-nelson or something.

But, anyway, there I was ... going nowhere fast.

And she wrestled me over to the table. I tried getting away from her, but she was definitely stronger than me and, after experiencing the way she handles me, I realize she was well-trained, too.

"There's really no use struggling," Nurse Malinowski whispered in my ear.

The feeling of her hot breath tickled my ear. It felt real good, to tell the truth. I liked it.

But like I said, I wasn't about to co-operate with anybody who was so willing and anxious to give me an enema!

"Let go, you creep!" I shouted at her, and I meant it, too, no matter how beautiful she was.

And that she didn't like. No, she didn't like that at all!

She twisted my arm so hard, I thought she broke it. The pain was awful, just awful, and as she twisted it, I could definitely hear a lot of bones cracking, cracking, cracking.

It reminded me of old lady Sullivan's false teeth clicking the way they do, and suddenly I was feeling sick to my stomach.

And all the fight went out of me.

So I just let go and went completely limp and loose.

Which is just what Nurse Malinowski wanted, after all!

Because when I did go limp, she just tightened her grip on me, but then she was pressing her body against mine, all over, as much as she possibly could.

That was when I was convinced that she was doing more than just going about her business and doing her nurse's job.

There was just too much body contact, a lot more than was absolutely necessary.

I was thinking about kicking her in the leg or something, but then I thought better of it. After all, she had already surprised me with her strength, and her training was just as obvious.

Yeah, if Nurse Sandra Malinowski ever decided to get out of the medical field, she could definitely go into professional wrestling. And I'm sure she'd do very, very well at it!

"You're a very pretty girl, Margaret. YouVe got a nice body on you, very nice, indeed. And it is a shame that you are listless the way you are. When I'm through with you, you'll thank me for it."

So she grabbed my under by breasts and around the waist and literally carried me over to the examination table, lifted me up, and laid me down on it, all of it as if I didn't weigh more than a pound or two.

I was really worried, not to mention em harassed and hating what she was going to do to me, like it or not.

Like I say, she liked her work more than she had to.

Why, she was taking my clothes off me by herself.

Yes, she didn't even ask me to take them off myself. She just started right in on me, unbuttoning and unzipping and stripping me naked as if she had done the same thing to other girls a million times before.

And I'm sure she did!

I'm sure that's why she got into nursing in the first place! I'm sure that's why she went out of her way to get a job working in the junior high school and the high schools in the first place.

So she'd have a lot of opportunity and a lot of chance to handle as many young girls as she wanted to handle.

No, Doctor, don't tell me that maybe I'm imagining the whole thing!

If you could have seen the look in her eyes as she was stripping me naked, you would know what I'm talking about, and you would know what I'm telling you is nothing less than the truth.

Because each time she took another piece of my clothing off, her eyes got bigger and bigger. It was as if she was feasting on my nakedness, like some kind of weird sci-fi monster or something.

And I was completely at her mercy!

She was the official representative of the school, and there was no way I could resist her without getting into trouble.

Finally, it was over. I was completely naked in front of her.

And she just stood there towering over me, taking in the sight of me like she had all the time in the world.

Twice I tried to cover myself with my hands, placing them ... well, you can imagine where I placed them.

But ever time I tried to do that, she just reached down, took my hands firmly in hers, and moved them aside.

What she was interested in was as obvious as a fire engine. It didn't take a genius to know what interested her most.

Then Nurse Malinowski said, "You know, Margaret, someday soon I think I'm going to have to give you a complete physical examination. A very, very complete and thorough and extensive examination."

I didn't say anything or move at all, not a hair or anything.

Like I said, I wasn't going to co-operate with her sneaky pleasure in any way at all, not if I could help it.

Then she sighed deeply. I think she was disappointed that I didn't somehow respond or anything.

Like I said, I know I'm good-looking. I've been told that a million times by a million different people. I'm what's known as very well developed for my age.

Just look at me! Look at the way I'm put together. Great, eh?

Well, my motto is: Let 'em suffer! And that includes you, too, Doc. So don't get any funny ideas in your head!

But where was I?

Oh, yeah, Nurse Malinowski was sighing over and over and over again. She had her crotch pressed up against my arm, so I moved it away, pulled it off the edge of the examination table and rested it across my waist.

And that must have annoyed her, because Nurse Malinowski then said, "Very well, then, Margaret. Well just have to proceed with the enema right here and now without any further ado."

Still I didn't move. Being totally passive is a very good way to make people have to come right out and be honest with themselves and have them say exactly what it is that's on their mind.

Being passive makes them have to face themselves without any kidding around. And that is what people hate about me and my method.

It forces them to face their own thoughts.

And they do not want to.

So Nurse Malinowski finally had to say it herself! Ha!

"Turn over, Margaret. Roll over on your stomach and let's see what we've got to work with."

So I rolled over like she said to, and I settled down on my stomach.

I didn't want to give her any more excuse for twisting my arm again. It still hurt like hell from the first twisting she gave it.

"Yes, very nice!" was all she said when she looked at my bare ass.

Very nice, ha! As if I didn't know it was very nice. I didn't need her to tell me that, no way.

In fact, it told me more about her than it did about me myself.

It told me that she was hot for my ass, that's what it told me!

And she wasted no time getting what she wanted.

She marched over to the supply cabinet like a WAC and she pulled a huge enema bag out of the place where it was stored.

The size of it shocked me. It looked like the feedbag for a horse or something.

"It's the family size," Nurse Malinowski said out loud, as if she was reading my mind.

I tell you she scared me!

Anyhow, she looked at her big, white wristwatch and she must have decided there was no more time to waste, because she did just what she had threatened to do and filled the big up with water.

Filled it up right to the top, too!

God, I was wondering how I'd ever be able to hold so much water inside me. There must have been four or five quarts of water filling up into that great, big enema big of hers.

Five quarts at least! Shit!

Then she added something else to the water, a liquid of some kind, I don't know what it was.

Next, she fastened the bag to a stand next to the examination table and lubricated the nozzle of the thing with some kind of clear looking grease or something. I don't know what, but you do, Doc, so I guess that makes no difference, does it.

"Spread your legs apart, Margaret. It will make matters easier for both of us," Nurse Malinowski said.

Even without looking at her, I could hear the pleasure and satisfaction in her voice when she talked.

But I did what she told me, anyhow. God, it was so embarrassing and humiliating, I almost died.

"No, Margaret," Nurse Malinowski said again. Boy, she really sounded happy then. I guess she was really getting off on it.

I hated giving her any pleasure at all, but what could I do about it? Boy, talk about being used!

"You have to spread you legs a lot wider than that!" she told me. And then she just reached down and grabbed my ankles in her big, strong hands and spread my legs apart as far as they would go!

And then she walked across the room, picked up a big, thick pillow, came back and shoved it underneath my crotch.

And you can imagine what I felt like and how I looked with my big, beautiful ass sticking way up in the air like that!

Boy, was she ever using me.

And, then, without any further ado, to use one of her favorite words, she stuck that nasty enema tip into me and I almost jumped off the table!

Oh, I hated the feeling of that thing as it was shoved into me!

I hated the feeling of it as she shoved it down deep into me as far as the darned thing could go!

I hated the way she wiggled it around and around and around as if she were trying to locate it properly, as if she were trying to place it just-so, if you know what I mean by that!

Yeah, well, I knew perfectly well that wiggling it around inside me like that, over and over and over again, was totally and completely unnecessary.

She was just doing that to get her own kicks!

I know! I know!

A sixteen year old can be plenty smart! And I'm about as smart as they come, Doctor. I can tell you that much!

I may be only sixteen, but I sure do know when I'm getting fucked in the ass, enema or no enema!