Pushing her undergarments to one side, the still frightened Priscilla probed the soft flesh at her middle. Closing her eyes, she imagined that it looked similar to the flesh she’d seen between Mary’s legs. A perfunctory excursion above her soft folds indicated that she, too, had a soft patch of hair that grew above her opening. Pushing her hand further down, she found the cleft in her skin. Pulling the lips gently apart, she let her fingers wander along the wetness that had collected there.
She drifted down, until the folds became deeper and she had to stretch much more to reach inside. When she found the hole the folds had covered, she gasped and with her heart racing, pressed a finger inside. She felt herself shudder at the sensation of entering herself. Emboldened by her discovery, she probed further, pressing into herself eagerly until she touched the thin wall of flesh that covered her entrance.
She stopped suddenly, frightened at what she’d found. How was it to be that the doctor would… put himself inside her, if this skin blocked his path? Surely he would have to tear it, and surely that would hurt greatly! While she’d found the pain she’d been subjected to earlier that day strangely arousing, the thought of someone tearing something inside her was decidedly less so.
The seed of an idea sprouted in her mind, blossoming into a fully formed thought the more she contemplated it. If she took control of the situation, if she could perform the act herself, she would not be living in terror of it happening until they were wed. With each passing moment, the idea seemed like the best course of action and after not very much more thought, it had turned in her mind to be the only course of action.
Moving her hand between her legs again, Priscilla poked at the area with two fingers this time, until she once again felt the soft skin there. Closing her eyes and gritting her teeth, she did her best to force her hand inside herself more fully. But try as she might, her fingers wouldn’t stay straight and firm, as though they were refusing to inflict pain on her private place. Pulling her fingers from herself, she realized then that she would need the aid of some foreign body to perform the act.
Immediately the memory of the long, thick shaft entered her mind. Her pulse quickened and her body tensed at the possibility of sneaking from her room, down the hall, and into the observation room where she’d seen Mary earlier that day. Surely there was a shaft smaller than the one she’d seen. If there was, she could simply set it on the floor and sit herself upon it, thereby causing it to pierce her and open her thus.
But with her bottom still burning from the switch she’d felt that day, the consequences of such an action became immediately clear. If she were discovered, not just stealing through the corridors at night but contravening a direct command from papa… she shuddered at what her punishment might be. Once again, although the shudder was mostly from fear, carried within it lay a strange sort of desire.
What punishment could he possibly come up with, to correct for such an insubordination? What new ways would he find for her to feel his hand if she were discovered in her attempt? The idea that she might find out became somehow just as enticing as the original plan had been to begin with. Throwing her covers to one side and not bothering to put on her slippers or light the candle by her bedside, Priscilla embarked from her bed on tiptoe down the hall.
The sounds of gentle snoring came from every room as she made her way quietly along the corridor. Her long hair that had been let down before be brushed against her bottom and the spot that was still sore from the switch at the top of it. Ignoring the pain, Priscilla quickened her pace and soon found herself outside the door bearing the title ‘Observation Room 1.’ The same door the doctor had led her through that day.
She pushed it open gently and as slowly as she could, hoping that would keep it from squeaking. It did emit a tiny noise but she was sure that no one but her could have heard it. Moving into the room still on tiptoe, she closed the door behind her, being careful not to let it latch.
The room was arranged as they’d left it and Priscilla made her way quickly across the floor to where the chest of drawers was located, the one she’d seen the implement being taken from. When she opened it, her eyes went wide and her hand shot to her mouth, stifling a gasp.
In front of her, all manner of implements presented themselves. Long, curved hooks with balls on the end. Chains that seemed to attach nothing, clamps similar to those used on her that day. Then, she saw the perfect thing to help her in her quest. A rod similar in shape to what she’d seen pushed inside of Mary but thinner and not as long. Priscilla reached for it quietly, careful not to disturb the other tools.
Her scream pierced the darkness of the academy as her eyes came to rest on an imposing figure standing right behind her and illuminated only by the light of a single flickering candle.
“P-p-papa…” she stammered, letting go of the thing she was holding and sending it clattering to the floor.
“I ask you, Priscilla, what is the meaning of this?” the stern doctor growled.
“How did you… how did you know I was here?” she replied.
He placed the candle he’d been holding down on the table beside him and stooped to pick up the fallen implement. “What did you mean to do with this, Priscilla?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.
Priscilla felt the hot sting of tears at her eyes. Not so much at what might happen to her, but at her protector’s disappointment. She wished she’d thought of that before indulging in her folly.
“I meant… I meant…” she began but a sob surged from her and prevented her from finishing. Throwing herself at him, she once again buried her face in the doctor’s chest, hoping he would forgive her for the misstep. To her great relief, she felt his hand settle on her shoulder, and he squeezed her tighter to him as she cried. When there was nothing left but sniffles, she felt herself being gently pulled away. He put a finger on her chin and made her look at him.
“Did you meant to put that inside yourself, Priscilla?”
She nodded in response. “Yes, papa. I’m sorry.”
“I’m glad you’re sorry and I’m glad that you’re curious, but it’s the one thing I told you not to do. Why would you go against my wishes?”
Priscilla’s lip began to quiver again. “I’m… I’m scared, papa.”
“Scared?” he asked, incredulous. “Of what?”
“I’m scared that it will hurt when you put yourself inside of me. I wanted to try it first. To… to…” she lowered her eyes and spoke more quietly, “break the skin there.”
She heard him breathe deeply before he spoke. “Alright. I understand, little one. Look at me. You have no reason to worry, that part doesn’t hurt very much at all. But you’ve disobeyed me and I can’t let it go unpunished.”
“I know, papa,” Priscilla replied. It was strange to feel her body tingling the way it was at his mention of her punishment. She imagined what it might be and whether it would hurt as much as what he’d done earlier in the day. The thought excited her.
He sat down on a chair and motioned her to come close. She shuffled over quietly and as he took her by the arm, she fell gently over his lap. Soon she felt her nightgown being pulled above her bottom while her drawers were pulled the other way. She winced, imagining what the pain of his correction would feel like on the still sore welts she had from being switched. Her imagination did not have long to wait.
With swift, merciless swats he alternated spanking first one cheek and then the next.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six, she counted them in her mind as the pain shooting from her bottom twisted her body in reaction to the pain.
Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. “Ah, papa!” she cried, her nails digging into the leg of his pajama bottoms. The heat he’d made burned up from her bottom and into her back and down her thighs. He showed no sign of relenting.
Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. With the last blow on her left cheek, she thought she could bear it no longer. The pain was searing through her entire body now, the w
elts and bruises he’d left before having been reignited fresh agony. She felt herself collapse across his knee, a helpless doll subject to his every whim.
The spanking stopped.
The sound of their heavy breathing mingled in the silence of the room and the candle lost its flicker from the motion of the air and burned straight once more. His hand lingered on her bottom, sealing in the fierce heat he’d stoked to life there. But she did not regret it or wish that he would move it away. Instead, she found it somehow a token of his love.
“Now,” he growled from above her and she wished that he would turn her over and spread her legs the way that Mary’s had been spread. “We can see to your dilemma right now.”
She gasped as he moved a finger roughly in between her thighs, probing the same soft flesh she’d probed herself just a few minutes earlier. When he found her soft hole, it was as soaked as it usually was after a correction and she felt him slip easily past her outer folds.
“Papa!” she breathed as the tip of his finger met the soft wall of flesh she’d felt herself.
“Silence!” he ordered, his voice leaving no room for disagreement. Closing her eyes tightly, she clung to his leg with her hands as he moved himself into her.
The piercing sting inside lasted but a second and she felt a trickle of warmth between her legs, then felt his finger moving deep inside. The feeling of him sinking into her overwhelmed what little pain she felt and finally, in some small way, the ache she’d come to know since her arrival was sated by his touch.
“Oh, please… doctor, yes, please!” she breathed as he spread her open further and moved another finger inside. She knew herself to be a good girl for submitting to her punishment, for complying with his correction and now letting him dominate her in this new way. She felt like this might be the reward she craved for her obedience.
But soon, his fingers left her and she whimpered at his absence. When he pulled her to her feet, she saw the spot of blood that had stained his night clothes, and gasped.
“I’ve… I’ve ruined your clothes!” she said, covering her mouth with her hands.
“Nonsense,” he replied, “it’s of no importance.”
Relieved, she moved closer to him. Her body craved his touch now more than ever and despite herself, she straddled his legs and buried her face in his neck.
“Please, doctor… may I have more pleasure?” she begged, hoping he would oblige.
“Not this evening. Not by my hand. You are to return to bed. There is still much to do tomorrow. I’ve arranged the wedding for the following day. Your aunt will be here as will a small group of my family and friends.”
She rose, dejected, her sagging shoulders betraying her dismay. His smile warmed her.
“Now, now. Pouting won’t help. Remember what I said. You can touch yourself. Just no placing anything inside.”
The thought filled her with a minor thrill. It would not be the same as feeling his hands on her, in her. But she could spend a good portion of the night exploring herself, finding that soft spot he already knew so well.
“Good night, my little Priscilla,” he said, squeezing her hand in his.
“Good night,” she answered, and turning to the door, she walked into the hall and toward her room.
Chapter Nine
Priscilla found it very difficult to wake the next morning. Even when Nurse Stanwick came to her chambers and lifted the blinds, she pulled the blanket over her eyes against the glare and closed them tightly.
“Come now,” Nurse Stanwick chimed, “you’ll miss breakfast if you continue sleeping! Doctor Preston asked me to wake you. He’s already been very generous in letting you sleep as long as you have.”
Priscilla felt the blanket being pulled from her, then finally swept off. The chill of the room made her curl up into a ball. She opened her eyes to see that Nurse Stanwick had brought in a trolley on which there lay a washbasin. Inside it was the bag, filled with water, the one that had been used to cleanse her before. She glanced at the nurse.
“Well,” Nurse Stanwick said, moving across and pushing the trolley to the edge of the bed, “bottoms up!”
It felt odd, but this time Priscilla had no fear about being cleaned. In fact, she felt a tiny thrill at the way it would feel. With a smile on her face, she rolled over and pulled her nightshirt up and over her bottom.
“That’s a good girl!” Nurse Stanwick said, sounding pleased. Priscilla felt her undergarments being pulled off her bottom. She winced as the fabric touched the sore spots her papa had left there. “I see you were a bad girl last night,” Nurse Stanwick mused, noticing the welts as well.
“I was a very bad girl.”
“Well, out with it. What did you do that displeased Doctor Preston?”
Priscilla felt a blush of shame in her cheeks. “I… I went to the observation room. To try to put that… that thing inside myself.”
She heard Nurse Stanwick gasp at the admission and quickly after felt a swat on her rear. “Youch!” Priscilla squealed, turning to face the nurse, whose countenance was very stern. “I’ve already been punished for it!”
“Perhaps you have by the doctor. I want to make sure you remember what a naughty thing that was to do,” Nurse Stanwick said, pushing her until she rolled back over onto her stomach. She felt the nurse tug at her hips, raising her bottom into the air, then push a pillow beneath her so she stayed there.
Soon, she felt the now familiar sensation of the implement at her rear, pushing inside her and once it was snugly inside, she felt the rush of warmth as the cleansing solution filled her.
As soon as the bag had been emptied, she felt Nurse Stanwick remove the rod from inside her and quickly insert a tiny plug. Priscilla squirmed in slight discomfort as the thing pushed past her tight bottom hole, but as soon as it was inside her, she settled into the warm feeling in her core. After a few minutes, the nurse rose and ordered her to roll onto her side. Holding the washbasin at the side of the bed, Priscilla felt her pull the plug, then immediately felt the rush of water leaving her as her body expelled the solution into the basin.
Once that basin had been placed back on the trolley, Nurse Stanwick moved toward her, bringing with her a warm cloth that she dabbed at Priscilla’s bottom.
Priscilla rose and asked, yawning, “What shall I wear today?”
“You shan’t wear anything for the time being. The doctor means to begin your training right away in the observation room. His class is waiting there.”
Priscilla scowled. “But what about breakfast?”
“I told you, you slept far longer than you should have. Breakfast will have to wait.”
“Why won’t I be wearing any clothes then? And what is this training everyone keeps talking about?” Priscilla asked, feeling her temper flaring from the confusion.
“You won’t be wearing clothes because the training can’t be done clothed. As far as what the training is, you’ll find out soon enough. Now come, let’s take your nightie off.”
Somewhat reluctantly, Priscilla let the nurse remove her nightgown. “But wait!” she squealed as they started moving toward the door. “How will we get to the observation room if I haven’t any clothes on?”
“Goodness, girl,” the nurse replied, sounding rather irritated, “we’ll walk.”
The shame she thought she’d overcome welled up inside her again at the thought of being paraded down the hall, completely naked for everyone to see. “But they’ll see me!” she protested, moving away from the door.
“Who will see you?” Nurse Stanwick asked, seeming genuinely perplexed at Priscilla’s predicament.
“The others… the other girls… everyone… everyone who’s out there!” Priscilla shouted, cowering in a corner and trying to cover her exposed body.
“Priscilla,” the nurse admonished, “you are to come over here and walk to the observation room this instant!”
“No!” Priscilla cried. It was one thing for the doctor to see her this way, another thing entirely
if she was to be seen by the other girls, the ones she had to share meals with. If they saw her, they would surely laugh! She looked up to see Nurse Stanwick fuming.
“In that case, I’m going to get the doctor!” the nurse snapped and, spinning on her heel, marched out the door.
As Priscilla sat pouting in the corner, pondering her options, the possibility of escape presented itself once again. She could easily put on her own clothes and bolt out the door. Maybe she could even do it before the doctor got there. But as soon as she thought of him, another feeling began to push back against the possibility of running away. He wasn’t just the doctor anymore. She’d never felt with anyone the way she felt with him. She’d never known the kind of warmth and safety his touch brought. Before she had time to try to convince herself otherwise, he was standing at the door.
“Priscilla,” he said, his brow furrowed as he began walking toward her. She felt herself shudder as his large frame came closer. She wanted only one thing: to feel his touch again. She would gladly comply with anything he ordered. “Nurse Stanwick tell me you are being difficult. Is that so?” He bent down on one knee to where she was sitting.
“I… I don’t want to walk through the hall like this,” she said, hoping her pout would convince him. “I’m too embarrassed,” she added in a whisper.
His expression turned to kindness and it was a relief to see his eyes soften. “Priscilla,” he began gently, “you have no need to worry of such things.” He put a hand on her shoulder and immediately she felt better. “All of the girls here have had to do what the nurse is asking. There is no need to be ashamed here. Everyone understands.”
Priscilla, while unconvinced by his explanation, was completely disarmed by his touch. Wanting nothing more than to please her gentle papa, she took his outstretched hand and rose to stand with him.
“Come now,” he said, patting her hand in his, “we have already kept my students waiting far too long.”
Cautiously, Priscilla let herself be led through the door. She felt her cheeks flush again as a group of other girls, all fully clothed, passed by them. She looked away but heard them giggling as they walked by. She felt her face turn an even brighter red and to her utter dread, felt her nipples harden at her own humiliation. Pressing onward, she tried to hide as much of herself against her papa’s large frame as she could.
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