The Darker Passions

by Nancy Kilpatrick

  "I'll need you to be present, Meg. For the sake of propriety."

  "Why certainly," she says.

  "Present for what?" I inquire.

  "I've asked Henry to examine your insides."

  "What?"

  "From the information Meg has provided, I believe there may be something amiss in your female organs." Henry looks as embarrassed as I feel yet there is a cunning to his look, I'm certain of it.

  "Aunt Meg, I really don't see..."

  "You suffer symptoms, some that may be an early warning," Henry says firmly. "There may be something to this. I am, after all, a doctor and your physical well-being is important to me."

  Spoken like a true professional. My physical well being. Is that all that concerns you, sir, I want to ask?

  I can see that they will not let me out of this and with a sigh I acquiesce.

  "You may undress behind this curtain," Henry says, pulling it across a blocked off area.

  I sigh again and go behind the cloth and remove my clothes and shoes, wondering if I am expected to come out naked.

  "Here you are, my dear," Meg says, peeking her head around the opening, smiling as her eyes rove my body. "Put this on."

  It is one of those white hospital gowns, open in the back.

  I pull it tightly around me and re-enter the room.

  Henry has placed a white sheet upon his examination table. "Please lie here, Ursula," he says in a very cool voice. Whatever could have possessed me to imagine that he was interested in me as a woman? Clearly he is all the professional. His quick escape of the other night now, in the light of day, makes perfect sense.

  Once I am comfortable and Meg is at my side, Henry lifts my gown to my waist. I feel my face color. He stares at a spot between my stomach and my knees. This is terribly disconcerting.

  Finally, as if he remembers what he is about, he presses my stomach here and there. "Tell me if this hurts," he says.

  His touch is clinical, of course, what else could it be. Yet there is something to being half naked in front of him that

  I find amusing, or at the very least absorbing. I feel no shame whatsoever, just curiosity as to what will come next. I wonder what he is thinking.

  "Slide down to the end of the table, Ursula."

  I do as he instructs. My legs dangle over the edge and he pulls a stool up to the end of the table, between them.

  "Put each foot into the stirrup."

  Again, I follow his orders, aware that I am spread wide open for his viewing. Now I do feel peculiar. I have never been examined in this manner before and it fills me with both dread and a secret pleasure.

  He touches me between my legs and I jump.

  "There there," Meg says, smoothing my hair back. "Let the doctor do his job."

  His fingers spread me open wider still. They are warm and sensitive but determined as they probe my most intimate area. I feel a hot flush spread from my stomach to his fingertips. He slides his fingers inside me, then out, then in further, and I jolt again at the slight pain.

  "I must utilize the speculum to see the total picture."

  I watch in horror as he removes a large metal object from his instrument closet. Henry moves between my legs again. I hold my breath as he inserts this tremendous instrument within me and begins to crank it open.

  "Bring that lamp here, won't you, Meg?" he says.

  "Of course."

  I lie spread open by this metal monster. Henry twists the crank, which makes a fearful scraping noise, and each twist is followed by a widening of my orifice, accompanied by much pain from the pressure. I can only breath quickly through my lips and close my eyes against such sharp sensations. And while I would confess it to no one on the fact of the earth, having him explore me thusly is rather exciting.

  Henry is aware of what he is putting me through. I know this because he assures me, "Ursula, I suggest you learn to accept pain as a part of life, for this is as childhood is to adulthood, and you must expand your tolerance."

  I am miffed by his cool attitude. After all, it is my opening being probed, and my pain. And yet his words make sense to me. I know he means well.

  "Is she intact, Doctor?" Aunt Meg asks.

  "Yes."

  How shameful to have them speak of my maidenhead in such a prosaic manner. My head flips from side to side, expressing the distress I feel. Will this never end? Why do I want it to last forever?

  "I see no evidence of anything out of the ordinary."

  "Then you must check her other orifice as well."

  The doctor untwists the dreadful speculum and my relief is tremendous. He lifts each of my feet from its stirrup and lowers it, then says in a crisp voice, "Onto your stomach." I do as he orders. He opens the gown at the back revealing my naked bottom draped over the edge of the table; my legs dangle to the floor. This position feels even more exposed. Thank goodness he cannot see my face, as I know it reflects the mortification I am experiencing.

  "Leave nothing uninvestigated, doctor, as my precious niece's health is at stake."

  Henry proceeds to spread my bottom cheeks. I cannot believe the humiliation! Now the hot flush creeps throughout my derriere as well as to that other place he just visited. I can only lie here trembling, awaiting whatever he decides I must undergo. And he decides quickly.

  I feel something tapping at my back door, as it were. The sensation is exquisite and full of promise. Little chills travel the length of my spine and involuntarily I moan. I feel something within me spasm and the heat increases. In terror and sinful anticipation, I wonder if he will again use that large instrument to observe me.

  Suddenly, an area which has only before acted as an exit now becomes an entrance. What feels like a log pushes into me. I gasp in painful pleasure. "Oh, I cannot bear it, sir!"

  "Patience, Ursula," Meg tells me. "Doctor Jekyll knows what must be done."

  "I will not abuse you long, Ursula, but must investigate fully." That voice is so cool.

  The hard thing that has entered me goes deep, spreading me wide. The heat localizes and I feel my bottom hole suddenly contract. This object that pierces me moves out, then in, out then in, each time probing a bit deeper. I feel my bottom rise up into the air and hear moans come from between my lips which I cannot seem to suppress. I am acutely ashamed now as I lie here, unable to move, Henry impaling me whilst my Aunt gazes on. And yet I feel so open, so submissive to his every whim. The thrill of him being planted in me burns away my shame. At this moment I would do all that he asks, happily.

  Soon he withdraws whatever he has inserted there. I am awash with emotion. And yet through this myriad of feelings one surfaces that takes me by surprise: I wish him to enter me again.

  Suddenly all my wishes are fulfilled. This time it is the awful metal speculum burying itself deep within. My back arches, my bottom rises and I moan softly.

  Again that cranking sounds and I am spread wider than I imagine possible.

  I lie open before Henry and my Aunt, who lifts the lamp that they may see another part of me that I myself have never viewed. And all the while I lie here helpless, enjoying the feeling of being the object of such total concentration as I feel coming from the two of them.

  Meg suddenly pats my bottom three times, more like sharp slaps really, stinging a little. "Time to dress, my dear. Doctor Jekyll has finished his inspection, I believe."

  "Yes I have." His voice is odd, deeper than it. He closes the speculum. I feel it slide out of me, leaving a sort of emptiness behind.

  "Fine," I say, my own voice barely audible.

  As I dress, I am aware of my body below the waist. The sensations coursing through my nether regions is new to me and most interesting. This feeling is startling in its uniqueness that for the first time I wonder if I am in fact ill. Is this heat natural? This tingling? Perhaps I should tell Henry of the effect his examination has had on me. I feel very confused. I step out of the room and look up. Henry is drying his hands. Our eyes meet.

  I cannot speak n
or breathe. It is as thought his sandy eyes burn into my very soul, reading all my thoughts and desires, hidden from the world, hidden even from myself. I feel light-headed. My face colors. Suddenly I am aware of Meg at my side and Henry, both offering me a seat, as though I had begun to fall over.

  "Let me get you some water," Henry says.

  "I'll get it," Meg says.

  "There, by the other table."

  "Actually hot tea would be best. I'll find Poole and have him prepare some."

  "You can ring him from here," Henry says, pointing at a bell cord, but Meg acts as if she does not hear him. In seconds she is up the steps and gone and he and I are alone together.

  He is completely solicitous. He crouches at my feet and takes both my hands in his. "Ursula, I hope I have not caused you undue pain. Pain is often necessary for healing purposes."

  I shake my head. "On the contrary, I believe you have done me good. Perhaps you have found the source of my illness."

  "Your illness? How so?"

  "When you examined me, my body below the waist turned to fire. And when you thrust whatever that was into me..."

  "My finger."

  "I-I, well, I can only tell you that within I began to convulse. And I felt I needed more."

  I was worried about myself, deeply worried. "Am I seriously ill? Oh please, don't spare me the news!"

  A smile spreads over Henry's face that reassures me. He brings my hands to his lips and kisses my palms, as did Hyde, the tip of his tongue just touching my flesh, causing me to shiver uncontrollably. "No, Ursula, my sweet, you are fine. More than fine."

  "But the light-headedness?"

  "Easily cured."

  "But how?"

  "You must allow me to visit you."

  "I-I don't know what you're getting at."

  "Ursula, I wish to see you. Privately. As a man sees a woman."

  I shake my head and pull my hands away from his, frightened, confused anew, excited. "Whatever for?"

  Henry stands, his tone stern. "Let me be plain about it. You are a virgin. Your symptoms arise from that condition."

  I stare at him dumbly. "And are you saying you wish to take my virginity?"

  He falls to his knees before me. "Ursula, I wish to marry you, if you will have me."

  "Marry?" I jump to my feet. "But that's impossible. We hardly know one another."

  He stands again also. His tone is firm. "Is there another, then? Tell me straight out."

  "Of course not, although my Aunt and Uncle have tried to match me up."

  Henry looks angry. "And with whom, may I ask?"

  "Well, your friend Hastie, for one, although I like him only as a friend. He is a man in need of a friend."

  Relief floods his face. "And are there others?"

  "No one serious, although another of your friends has requested my presence this Friday evening. At the ladies' salon."

  Suddenly his face darkens. His look is so laced with fury

  I become frightened and step back from him. "You are speaking of Hyde, are you not?"

  "Well, yes, but..."

  "There are no buts about this, Ursula. You will not see him! I forbid it!"

  "Of course she will," Aunt Meg says. She has returned without the tea. "You have no claim on my niece and hence can forbid nothing."

  "Then I claim her now. I wish to marry Ursula."

  "And Ursula, what do you have to say about all this?"

  "Well, I-I, it's all so sudden. I need time to consider."

  Henry grabs my hands and brings them to his lips. His skin touching mine reminds me as much of Hyde's kiss as of his own. "Ursula, darling, for God's sake, you must decide soon or you will be lost to me." His face expresses such ardor, his lips on my fingertips are hot with passion. More than anything I long for him to kiss me full on my lips and invade my mouth that I may again feel what I felt when Hyde kissed me. Would it be the same? Would I again swoon from being possessed so utterly?

  "Come along, Ursula. We must prepare for the weekend."

  My arm is being tugged and Meg is pulling me up the steps.

  She stops at the top and turns. "Henry, if you wish to see Ursula, you may visit her one afternoon."

  "Friday!" he says immediately.

  Meg looks at me. "Alright," I say.

  She hurries me away from the frustrated Doctor Jekyll and out the front door. The moment we are in the carriage, Meg breaks into laughter. "Men are so predictable, are they not? He'll come 'round. They both will."

  "Henry, but who else?"

  "Hyde, of course. They both want you and you must choose between them. Of course, you must first inspect their assets."

  "But Aunt Meg, I've only just arrived in London. Already you're prepared to marry me off."

  "A girl needs to look to her future and secure it when opportunity knocks."

  "Well, if it's money you're concerned about, I'll have my inheritance later. And I'm certain both of them are financially secure, but..."

  "Silly child, men with money can be had easily enough. And the finances of these two is hardly in question."

  "Then what?"

  Meg gives me a disgusted look. "Ursula, where is your sense? All that is relevant is how well these men pleasure you, of course, and nothing more."

  Chapter Nine

  "Damn you, Hyde!" I smash my fist onto the table as his sinister laugh echoes in my ears. But my fury soon melts and I grip the sheet which dainty Ursula has lain on. There is one precious spot of her fluid and I pull it to my nostrils and inhale her scent. A low moan escapes my lips. I cannot allow him to have her and yet I feel helpless to do anything to stop him.

  He is ingrained in my system now. In the past we were as separate beings, the right hand not knowing what the left did, so to speak. But now we seem intertwined. I hear his voice; can he hear mine? And his voice grows louder with each passing day. It is as though he is taking possession of me, having me act in a manner unfamiliar to my finer sensibilities.

  What doctor of any worth would do what I did to Ursula? I knew nothing much was wrong with her and yet Meg's gentle nudge was enough for me to penetrate the girl. And I am man enough to admit that it was for my own pleasure. Her sweet cunny, so open and spread out before me. So inviting, so pink and chaste. And her bottom hole. How I ploughed into her, feeling her squirm beneath me. The power I felt. My cock hardens with the memory. Would that Meg had not been there; I would have ploughed Ursula with something more interesting. My God! Am I turning into Hyde?

  In a fit I tear open the cupboard door. Within are all the ingredients for my special potion. Individually they are harmless, all but one. I remove the box of white salts. This, indeed, is the culprit. If I do not have the ingredients, Hyde cannot exist.

  I ring for Poole.

  "Sir?"

  "Take this and dispose of it at once, do you hear! And do not tell me where you have tossed the stuff, simply get it out of my sight! Immediately!"

  Poole has been with me so long and has been through so much that my outburst does not faze him. "Very good, sir. I was coming to tell you that Doctor Lanyon is here to see you."

  I groan extravagantly. Hastie is the last person I wish to see, for he reminds me of my own failing. But there is no option. "Yes, send him to me, then."

  "Hastie," I say as he eases down the steps carefully.

  "Henry."

  "Have you tired of self diagnosis?"

  He gives me a plaintive look that breaks my heart. This is not the confident Doctor Lanyon, always in the right, first to speak his mind at the expense of others. "I have come to show you my injuries, but not for a diagnosis. The wounds are healing."

  Without further ado he unbuttons his trousers and drops them, then lies across the table face down, in the same position as Ursula.

  His bottom is black and blue. And across those colors are dark wine red weals rising in erratic rows. I touch one and he jumps. "Hastie, how on earth did this happen?" I know all too well, but most protect myself.r />
  "How is not important."

  "But you must have suffered so."

  He turns his head and gives me an even more pathetic look. "What you see caused me pain so exquisite as to border on ecstasy. It is the emotional scars which are the cruel blows."

  In all the years I've known him, this is my first opportunity to see Hastie even partially naked. His ass is small and not well padded. The beating he took must have been the worse for his anatomy. Still, those cheeks, a bit flat and dull in shape, seem to call out for something uplifting, something that will inject a bit of positive tension to what is flaccid and renew the life therein. I can see what Hyde was thinking.

  Hastie dresses and I offer him a chair but he declines. I sit, though, feeling that for what I am about to hear I shall require something sturdy to hold me up.

  "Tell me all, Lanyon, and leave nothing out. I am not a tenth as principled as you and my moralisms have taken a vacation of late."

  Hastie, embarrassed, tells me the entire story. And as he repeats the events of less than a week ago, they flash before my eyes as if I was there myself. As, of course, I was, in a manner of speaking. Hyde! I cannot escape him or his trail of abandoned lovers.

  "What is devastating for me," Hastie says, his eyes misting, "is that he discarded me as we would a tongue depressor. He opened me as if by a sharp scalpel, exposing all that is inside, and then left me there, alone, to fester."

  With that he collapses onto the floor, his head in my lap, and breaks down. I put an hand on his shoulder to comfort him. "Oh, it cannot be so bad as this. Come, my friend, where is your English stiff upper lip when you need it?"

  But he only cries the harder.

  I feel helpless. Hyde has created another victim. How many more will he wound so? And what of his designs on Ursula?

  Hastie is merely sobbing now, his hands clutching at my lap, struggling, no doubt, for contact. I close my eyes, having no idea how to comfort him. Within moments those fingers are undoing my buttons. Beneath the fabric, my cock rises to the occasion.

  His hands are slim and delicate, the sensitive fingers of a top-notch surgeon, which he is. My member greets him eagerly, which makes his stroking bolder.