by River Belle
‘It’s lucky you’re so beautiful and desirable, Lillian,’ my father used to say to me, ‘because your looks have saved this family’s fortunes. If it weren’t for those shapely hips and those pendulous tits, we’d be mucking out the stables of one of the other noble families.’ My mother would tell him off for the vulgar language, and we’d get back to whatever we’d been doing. For me it would be reading, for my father, it would be drinking, and sleeping with the help. He was a very merry man, most of the time.
But on my wedding day, no one was more merry than my dear husband. He drank cup after cup of wine, stuffed his face with rich, fatty meat, and danced drunkenly on the polished wooden floor of the summer house we celebrated in. He was not a pretty sight. An old, fat man, I’d reluctantly agreed to marry him in order to do best by my family. But, truth be told, I found the foul old fool repugnant. The sight of him, dressed up like some old pompadour in the ridiculous wedding suit he’d picked out, with wine stains down his bib fair turned my stomach.
At around nine O’clock, the old idiot took centre stage on the flood. He held a golden goblet in one hand, and a little teaspoon in the other. He tapped the cup with the spoon loudly, until everyone was silent.
‘Thank you, thank you,’ he said, hiccoughing slightly at the end of his sentence, ‘thank you for coming to my house, and drinking my drink, and eating my eats!’ There was a confused, but loud cheer as he spoke. ‘And now,’ he said, his cross-eyed gaze turning upon me, ‘I’m going to take my young wife, and stretch her snatch wide open with my member!’ My mouth opened to a shocked little O shape, and I looked at my father, who suddenly didn’t look so merry, but rather as if he were about to vomit.
‘Come on my dear,’ he said. Not knowing what to do other than obey, I took hold of my husband’s wine-sodden fingers, and climbed the staircase with him toward our bedroom.’
Chapter 58
We stood outside the door to the bedroom, and my husband took out the key to the room.
‘Just one momi..mimi..moment my dear,’ he slurred, as he moved his hand toward the keyhole. His arm waved about through the air. Truly, I’d never seen anyone as inebriated as this in my whole life, not even father, who could put them away with the best of them. He tried to find the lock a few times with the key, and then, pushed it straight into the wood of the door, causing the key to fall from his hand onto the carpet below.
‘Blasted door, always moving about,’ he said, ‘Lillian my dear, unlock the door for me. Bend over and pick up the key.’ I could see him leering, looking straight down my top at my cleavage, pushed together by the corset I wore underneath my wedding dress. I sighed, and bent over. As I did, I felt his gnarled old hands on my calves, then my knees, then my thighs. He pawed at me as I grabbed the key and put it in the door, just before he managed to touch my rump. I shook away from him, and pushed my way into the room. I would consummate my marriage, of course, I knew my responsibilities, but not out in the corridor like some common whore! He laughed as he stumbled over the doorway and landed in a heap on the bed, which was just inside the room.
‘Come now, come, my pretty young wife,’ he said, ‘let me see what all of my money bought for me!’
He lay on the bed with his head on the pillow, and looked at me. I was wearing an understated little bridal dress, with white stockings and the aforementioned corset, as well as the traditional garter and little shoes. I suppose I was going to have to take them off for him. As I reached around to my back and began to unclasp the buttons on its rear, I heard a loan groan come from my husband’s mouth. I looked down at his crotch, where it looked as though something huge and bulbous was straining to get out! Could it be that this pathetic old man was hiding some dark secret? Suddenly, I felt a rush of excitement in my nether regions. Maybe I’d be getting more than I bargained for.
So, I turned my attention to my dress. I unhooked it and let the little piece of white fabric fall to the ground. I stood in front of my husband in just my underwear now, my corset and gartered legs on full display.
‘Beautiful..’ I heard him murmur. I looked at his crotch again, and I saw that something was definitely moving down there.
‘Oh Lord Swinburn,’ I said,undoing the clasps at the side of my corset, ‘your young wife is going to give you a wedding night to remember!’ then I undid the constricting fabric, letting my full, ripe bosoms tumble down onto my body, feeling their bounce and weight. I’d long been the focus of attention for many young men in the area because of my body for years, but my breasts had been the talk of town. Some of the young scamps had openly asked me to see them, and one young boy, Patrick, had told me that he had many times spilled his seed, just thinking about touching my teats.
‘Mmmm,’ he moaned. I looked again at his trousers and felt a flood of fluid down in my knickers. It was time to see what was going on. Moving like a cat, I crawled up to the bottom of the bed, before carefully moving on to it. Then, I crept over him, before placing my hand on hid groin. A hard, rod-like object was under there. I looked up at his face, giving him the dirtiest look I could, only to see that he was asleep!
Sure enough, a little snore emitted from his mouth. Unbelievable! Well, I wasn’t going to go without taking a peek at his member, was I? Gingerly, so as not to wake him, I undid the buttons at his crotch, and took down his trousers. Underneath, was a beast of a penis. This monster was still now turgid, thick with blood, even though its master slumbered. Cautiously, trying not to wake him, I lay a hand on it. I’d never touched a man’s private parts before, and I was stunned to see that it was soft, as well as hard, and very, very warm. He moaned, and pushed himself upward in his sleep. Feeling my breathing become ragged and heavy with lust, I gripped his member in my hand, and started to slowly move my hand up and down its length. I couldn’t believe how erotic I was finding this, how incredible the sensation of his hardness made me feel. Then, not knowing what had taken control of me, I pursed my lips, and began to kiss his weapon. All over it, like a thousand butterflies had landed on the beast, I moved my lips, and then licked the hot meat, then enveloped it with my lips. The taste was salty and earthy. I wondered how many other had tasted this meat, and my hand made it’s way exploratorially down to my nether regions. Then, I sucked as hard as I could. With a sort of strained, garbled cry, I felt my husband’s meat begin to pulse and dance in my mouth, and then, a thick, salty fluid filled my mouth. Shocked, I swallowed it down, then, when I looked up, I saw my husband’s face, full of shock and terror, totally awake. Then, with a sudden, soporific expression, his head jerked back, and he was once again asleep.
Chapter 59
When I woke the following morning, I was amazed to find that I was alone in my bed. It was late, as I could tell by the sun coming through the shutters, and my husband was nowhere to be seen. On the desk by the window, however, was a letter, sealed in an envelope. To Lillian, is said on the front. Intrigued, I opened up the paper as quick as I could.
My dear wife,
What happened between us last night was…unhealthy. The act which you performed on me was wicked. The spilling of a man’s seed into a woman’s mouth, while pleasurable, is profane, as there is no chance of a life growing in the woman’s belly. This sort of behaviour is intolerable from a woman to her husband, and it needs to be taught out of you. To this end, I am sending you to a specialist in these matters, a Doctor friend of mine who is an expert when it comes to educating women. You seem to have a mental malady, and Doctor Brown will help to cure it in you.
His methods might seem severe, but believe me, it is for your own good. I know that to take such swift action might seem cruel, but I like to nip this sort of insubordination in the bud, as soon as possible. I hope that when I see you, in a few weeks time, you are ready to accept my might rod into your quim, with the kind of wet anticipation which the best wives keep for their husbands. I will put a baby in you, I swear it!
Your Husband,
Lord Derick Swinburn
&nbs
p; A mental malady! Unbelievable! He loved what I did to him last night, and what had he said to the crowd, that he was going to stretch my snatch open with his member? He was sending my off to some quack now, to be disciplined somehow? What a disgrace! Just then, there was a rap at the door, followed by the voice of our manservant, Jenkins.
‘Ahem, m’lady, a carriage awaits, set for Doctor Brown’s practice.’
Very well, I would go along with his perverse scheme. I must confess, at that moment, I was still burning with lust for the cock I had seen between my husband’s legs last night. If only he’d woken up, stayed hard for long enough to push it between my pussy lips, perhaps I wouldn’t have this insatiable desire now. I dressed and walked down with Jenkins to the carriage. After a long ride into London, I was waiting outside a very swanky looking house. It was part of a terraced row, and had a plaque on the door:
Doctor Jenkins, Women’s Doctor.
I prepared myself, and then knocked on the door. After a short wait, a man dressed in servant’s clothes answered the door.
‘Lady Swinburn?’ he said. Gosh, I suppose that was my name, now.
‘Yes,’ I replied.
‘Follow me,’ he said, ‘the doctor is waiting.’
Chapter 60
The servant led me down a corridor, and took me to a grand old oak door. He pushed it, and as the door swung open, the sight that greeted me was shocking, to say the least. The doctor’s surgery was beautiful. An elegant, highly polished walnut-wood table sat in the centre of a truly opulent space. A full-sized skeleton hung in the corner of the room, with anatomical charts hanging either side of it. There was a rich, thick, red carpet on the floor, something I’d never seen in a doctor’s surgery before. On the carpet stood an old-fashioned globe of the world, that looked old and worn. There were a couple of large, wardrobe-like containers placed around the edges of the surgery, as well as what looked like an antique examination table, surrounded by round surgical lights on chrome-plated struts and small metallic plates of surgical instruments. It smelled amazing, a mixture of the cool, clean smell of disinfectant and some other, weird aromas; a hot smell of warm, toasted oats.
Behind the table, on a polished, wooden throne, sat a man. I presumed that this was Doctor Brown. He was an impressive looking man. He must have been in his fifties, and had tanned, almost leathery skin, with an extremely severe glower on his face. He had a thick, dark moustache, and a shock of dark black hair, parted by a streak of gleaming silver down the middle. Strapped to his head was a doctor’s mirror. He turned to look at me, and I saw that he had the most incredible, piercing blue eyes that I’d ever seen. I felt a thrill of sexual excitement rush through my body.
‘Well,’ he said, with an impatient, clipped, tone, ‘what are you waiting for? Come and park your backside on the couch, we have an examination to carry out.’ My pussy began to weep for him. I’d never known a man to have such a strong, immediate effect on me - it was the mixture of authority and opulence, the stern way he spoke. I felt like a little girl again.
I tentatively made my way to the couch in the corner of the room, and lay down on it. The doctor made his way over to me, and stood next to me.
‘Now, your husband sent me a message very early this morning, telling me exactly what it is that happened last night.’ I looked up at him, hoping for any sort of glimmer of kindness. Of course, there was none. ‘I’m going to examine you physically, to see if there is any obvious reason why you seem to be a deviant, and if not, I’m afraid there will be corporal punishment to correct the mental malady.
‘Now,’ he said, ‘time to begin the examination.
Without so much as a moment’s notice, he took a large pair of surgical scissors, and, with a hand on my stomach, hooked the end of the implement underneath the fabric of my dress around my bust, With a strong, confident stroke, he sliced my clothes right down the middle, letting my large breasts splay out on my chest, and exposing my undergarments to the air. He pulled my clothes away and threw them into a bin at the side of the room.
‘Hmm,’ he said, ‘areolae seem perfectly formed,’ he grabbed hold of my breast with his hand, squeezing the flesh lightly before pinch my left nipple so much that it was sore.
‘Ouch!’ I said. ‘Doctor, is this really necessary? There’s nothing wrong with me.’
‘I’ll be the judge of that!’ he said. He pulled up straps from underneath the surface of the table, and within a minute, he’d strapped my hands and feet down in place. Then, another large strap came from underneath, and secured my torso. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘we’re going to need to remove these underwear.’ I tried to move a little in the constraints, but found that they held me tight. I felt so wonderfully at the doctor’s mercy, so trusting of his powerful strength, that to be honest, I wanted to be nowhere else but strapped to this table, ready to be probed. A familiar thrum of erotic lust coursed through my body, and as the strong doctor parted my legs and sliced off my underwear, I groaned with pleasure.
‘I see that like all deviants, you enjoy having your body ogled by men.’ He said, giving me a stern look. ‘Well let me assure you, my dear, you’ll like the feeling of my eyes on you much more than the feeling of my hand!’ He turned away and when he returned, I saw that he was carrying a leather bag. On it, written in gold letters were the words ‘Doctor’s Instruments’.
Chapter 61
When I saw the strange, scissor shaped clamp that the doctor had removed from his back, I almost gasped in fear. This thing looked monstrous. It was hooked and had little clamps on its ends. What would he be using it for?
‘Now madam, if you don’t mind, I will be using these forceps to make your quim nice and wide for an examination. It will feel very cold, and you might feel some pressure, but,’ and he glanced down at my now quivering maidenhood, ‘you seem so be producing so much natural lubricant that this won’t be too uncomfortable for you.
‘Doctor, I,’ I began. But before I had time to say anything, I felt strong fingers on either side of my delicate little entrance. They parted my sticky lips slightly, and then, with a cold, metallic prod, I felt the clamped end of the forceps slip inside me. The shock of the cold was immense, and I gasped. Then, before I had time to recover from this horrible sensation, I felt the doctor start to pry my lips apart.
‘Ugh,’ I grunted, and for a moment, the doctor stopped. But I wanted more, more of it in me! ‘Don’t stop,’ I whispered.
He pushed further apart and then, when I felt like my opening could take no more, he paused for a moment.
‘Oh my dear,’ he said, ‘you really have got the most beautiful little cunt I’ve ever seen. You are the youngest woman I’ve ever had sent to me, and, I must confess, operating on you is an utter pleasure.’ He licked his lips.
‘Please,’ I said, quivering, ‘touch me again, touch me with your hand. I want you, doctor.’
‘Where do you want me to touch?’ he said, bringing his hand up and onto my breast. ‘Here?’ he said, trailing shapes around my soft, puckered skin.
‘Lower!’ I said.
‘Here?’ he said, painting my flesh with his, moving his digit further down, around my midriff.
‘Lower, doctor!’ I cried, barely able to take the pleasure.
‘Here?’ he said, cruelly, as he moved his finger just above my pubic mound. He started twisting the finger round in my tightly wound hair, pulling it slightly, making me wince with pain.
‘Doctor, please, put your finger in me, into my pussy!’
He jerked away.
‘I don’t think so, miss. Not yet.’
He took a little cotton bud and gently swabbed the moisture which was seeping from my wide-open, virginal pussy, then lifted the material to his nose. He sniffed deeply.
‘Smells normal, although the amount of mucusa you are producing is prodigious, to say the least. I’ll have to take your temperature I think. I don’t think that the aural thermometer will be up to the task though…’ he
said, reaching once more into his bag. ‘No, this one will be much better.’ He held a thick glass rod in his hand, with little increments up the side, filled with a silvery fluid. I’d seen thermometers before of course, but not one quite as thick as this.
‘I’m going to insert this into your rectum, young lady. All the way up. Then, I’m going to leave it up there for a while, before seeing whether it might account for your filthy behaviour from the other night.’ As he spoke, he trailed the freezing cold glass of the tube up and down my trembling body. Then, with a cruel look, he moved it to the top of my entrance, to my clitoral mound. He began to press the tube gently onto my pleasure centre, sending darts of joy around my body, before gently slipping it inside me.
‘That’s good, we need to get this lubricated.’ Then, without warning, I felt a sudden pressure fill my bottom. The tip of the tube pushed and pushed, and he moved it around, working it slowly into my anal passage.