I’ve only found one nurse spanking in novels (unless you count The Outlander in which an English nurse from the 1940s travels back in time to mid-18th Century Scotland and ends up with a very sore rear).
Although not that well known, the scene in Passion’s Vineyard by Carl Venturi is a mini classic in my opinion. The book is described by Amazon as “a searching study into the socio-sexual mores of California’s vast grape growing community, and will make you long for the day when everyone in wine country drove something other than a Prius. Hot blooded paisanos take their women violently and it becomes the right of the Italian overlord to pick the ripest of these choice young women to put to use as an object of lust, lasciviousness or love.”
There are two spankings in the book. For not looking after his deceased father properly, our hero accidentally spanks the WRONG REDHEADED NURSE IN UNIFORM. How many bonus points do you get for that combination? In the second scene, he spanks a rude telephonist before sacking her. (but I haven’t included that one here).
He closed his eyes, and gave a great sigh, and then suddenly his head twisted to one side and I knew he was dead. I yelled. I was mad as hell that she hadn’t been around to take care of that bloody phlegm, because he must have been spitting it up for a long time.
“Nurse, Goddamnit, get your ass in here!”
I heard footsteps down the hallway, and then in came the auburn-haired broad who’d let me in at the front door. She had an angry look on her face, and her hazel eyes were flashing. What did you say to me she snapped, and she raised her hand to slap my face.
I said to get your Goddamned ass in here I snarled. My father’s dead. And he’s been spitting a lot of blood and it looks as if he’d been doing it for a long time. What the hell have you been doing today, besides parading around in that fancy uniform and acting like a Picasso painting on display?”
“How dare you!” And then she did slap me.
I saw red. I never was much of a gentleman, and the frustrations of the last five years seemed to burst inside of me as I grabbed hold of her slapping wrist, twisted it behind her back, and fastwalked her over to a low couch by the door, my right knee banging her bottom along the way while she yowled and threatened to have the police on me.
I sat down on the bench, I flung her over my lap, I hoisted up the white antiseptic skirt and the whiter slip underneath it, and there was a bottom ideally made for spanking. Spacious, jouncy, sheathed with a white satin-elastic pantie girdle, and the tabs clung to her white stockings as if they loved her legs so much they’d never let go.
“You stop that, or I’ll have you sent to jail for life, you filthy swine you! Who do you think you are to treat me this way?” she yelled at me, straining to get loose. I clamped my right leg over her calves,
I grabbed one of her wrists with my left hand, and I raised my right hand and I let her have the hardest spank she’d probably ever had in all her life, flattening down the plump right cheek of her behind and letting it spring up again. She let out a yowl that would have passed muster for a wildcat, and she tried to throw herself off my lap. I wasn’t having any. My hand rose and fell over her big backside with satisfying, noisy whacks until she stopped cursing and screaming and threatening me and began to sob and finally to yell, “Oh my God, you’re killing me, please stop it, stop it! For God’s sake, give me a chance to talk!”
I let up after about forty wallops, and I rudely shoved her onto the floor. She fell on all fours like a cat, and she shook her head several times as if dazed, and the tears were streaming down her face, and then she put one hand back to her bottom and began to massage it carefully, while she looked back at me and sobbed,
“You big overgrown bastard, you bully you! I’ve only been here an hour because Miss Tolson, the regular nurse, got sick and Doctor Franklin had to get a substitute in a hurry, and I was just going out of town on my vacation. And this is the thanks I get.”
The anger was all out of me now and I sat there dully, and I stared over at my dead father, and then back at this auburn-haired cutie, and then suddenly I began to laugh my fool head off. What a hell of a homecoming it was after five years! Yes, I had sure made some headway all on my own in San Francisco. I’d learned how to forget my almost virginal shyness towards women and take a strange broad over my lap and blister her bottom black and blue at first meeting. I wasn’t sure that was the kind of social grace that would be acceptable in Fresno. But at least it showed that I had Venturi blood in me, and I think maybe my father, wherever he was now at this moment, was probably laughing too and calling me a bastard in that inimitable way of his and thinking that maybe after all I could make the grade.
All the time I was laughing, this auburn-haired nurse whose behind I had just walloped crouched on her knees with her left palm on the floor and her right hand still rubbing her burning seat, her eyes very wide and her mouth gaping, as if she had just recognized a lunatic. I couldn’t really blame her. Here my father had just died, I had given up my job and everything else in San Francisco, and then without showing any respect for the dead at all, I’d grabbed the poor girl and given her a fantailing she hadn’t really deserved at all.
I said, just put it on the bill. If I made a mistake, I’m sorry as hell. And I won’t give you any alibi that because my old man just took off for the stars, I lost my head. You can call me whatever you want, you can call the cops and prefer charges against me if you want to. Then I grinned, some of my old devil-may-care arrogance coming back. But I’ll say one thing, whatever I have to pay for spanking your gorgeous butt, it’ll be worth it. She had got up now, and she was still rubbing her bottom, and then she shook her head and began to giggle even through her tears.
“If that doesn’t beat all;” she finally managed. “I thought your father was a regular heller, and I was only here a few hours, and now this. You know, I don’t think I’ll be able to sit down for at least a week. And my job’s over now anyhow, and here I was going on my vacation.”
“Let’s have a cup of coffee in the kitchen, since you won’t be sitting down for a while anyhow, and talk it over.”