by Emily Tilton
This other path, the path of James Oakes’ firm hand, and the doctor’s words about her future husband… Rebecca had not chosen it. She would not choose it. It did not signify, this apparent survival of her modesty, deep inside her. So she knew for certain, now, that to play with one’s vagina and bottom in bed—to masturbate—seemed shameful and lewd in the world’s eyes.
She knew now, thanks to the doctor, that some future husband appointed by him or his employers would seek to impose his will upon her vagina, her clitoris, her wicked fingers. He would permit her to play with herself when he chose. Inwardly, bravely, Rebecca scoffed at the idea. She wanted to go naked into the Houses of Parliament and show the members and the peers exactly how she liked to touch herself between her legs. She would blush, she felt sure, but she would also show them all what a natural daughter who chose the way of the coquette liked to do in her bed at night.
“I suspected as much,” Dr. Brown said dryly. “Now the speculum will feel a little cold, I fear…”
Rebecca gasped, both at the sight of the metal beak pushing into her and at the feeling of it, the coldness in the place that still felt so warm, so soon after she had heated it so very thoroughly with her fingertips’ naughtiness. She still had no idea what the purpose of it could be, and that seemed to make the outrage of it even greater.
“Wh-what… why…?” she said, trying to make her voice offended and angry, but scarcely managing to raise it above a whisper, so strange did it feel to have something cold, and smooth, and… now… “Oh, heavens,” she gasped, for the doctor had done something to make his speculum open, down there—and thus, terribly, to open her.
With yet another irritating hot blush Rebecca understood, and she closed her mouth so as not to give him the satisfaction she irrationally imagined he would feel if she begged to know why he would do such a thing to her poor nearly maiden vagina.
With the crease in her brow growing ever deeper, she watched the thing spread the coral grotto between her thighs, which nature itself had chosen to hide so very modestly so that only the manmade artifice of a mirror could reveal it to its owner. The discomfort caused a sob in her throat, but she proudly choked it down, so that it emerged only as a grunt.
“Yes, very pretty,” said Dr. Brown, intent only upon what he could see inside the vagina he had spread open for examination. “And quite healthy. The hymeneal membrane well ruptured by the penis’ penetration, leaving you ready for regular coitus with your husband, whenever he pleases.”
Chapter Twelve
Dr. Brown felt much easier in his mind, now, about the girl’s future both in the near and in the long term. Both her eventual tart answer to his inquiry about her vaginal lubrication and her reaction to the speculum’s insertion indicated that the sort of modesty—constructive modesty, as Dr. Brown termed it—necessary to a young lady’s success in the upper echelon of society had taken hold in her mind.
He must only reinforce this progression a little, in the remainder of the examination. Then he might write to the society that Miss Adams could be allowed to come up to London when her father thought it most favorable, under the customary guise of an ordinary debutante, rather than being brought thither immediately and placed in the society’s custody. Some time and care might also be taken in the consignment of Miss Adams to a natural suitor’s training: an interval of a few weeks would allow an appropriate candidate to appear, and would at the same time increase Miss Adams’ anticipation as she awaited the arrival of the man who would take her in hand completely.
Her hostess, whether Mrs. Rand or another London matron, would of course have the rather onerous duty of monitoring Miss Adams’ activities when abed both at night and in the morning, and reporting any misconduct. Such caution, though, found its place in many an ordinary home both in town and in the country, and girls received condign chastisement for self-pleasure all over England. Too, if the matron found the responsibility burdensome or distasteful, the society could easily send a special lady’s maid to provide the necessary vigilance and to deliver firm discipline, should the girl require correction.
Miss Adams had suppressed her whimper at Dr. Brown’s words concerning regular coitus with her husband, whenever he pleases, but he felt the tiny tremor of an aroused vaginal contraction go through the speculum. The tension of her masturbatory stimulation had departed from her sinews after her highly satisfactory orgasm, but the doctor could sense it beginning to return, now, just as it should. Miss Adams’ case had surprised him a bit, because of the mixture of defiance with pretended shamelessness, but the girl’s sexual responses showed every sign of the healthy, submissive libido that Dr. Brown looked for when he made a recommendation for sexual training and use.
“We will have a look inside your bottom, now,” he said conversationally.
Miss Adams could not, it seemed, suppress her reaction to that information. She gave a little cry as he withdrew the speculum from her vagina, and then another as he pressed its beak gently into her anus.
“I…” she began. Then, rather meekly, “Please, Doctor… may I… may I not, in the mirror…?”
He withdrew the speculum again and looked up, assuming the sharpness he knew she required. Miss Adams’ blue eyes, anxious, regarded him. Sweet beads of perspiration had appeared on her reddened forehead.
Dr. Brown softened his expression and spoke gently, using the opportunity to reinforce the ideas he had uncovered in Miss Adams’ mind, and to introduce her to further knowledge of her new situation in his care.
“Miss Adams, I fear you must observe my examination of you there, as shameful as it seems to you.”
She compressed her lips into a tight, distressed line at these words, and she closed her eyes tightly. In the tension of her brow, the doctor read the girl’s heart: her struggle against her constructive modesty had reached a crisis, with this command to watch him open her bottom upon the speculum.
“Look at me, if you please, Miss Adams. There is a thing I wish to tell you, about modesty.”
The blue eyes opened again, with a startled aspect. Miss Adams had certainly not expected the subject of her anguished cogitation to be addressed directly.
“I rather think that you decided, at school perhaps, that modesty was an old-fashioned sentiment you could do without. It is not unusual for natural children, who often feel with some justice that society has excluded them, to elect to put shame away from them, and to suppress its power in their hearts and minds.”
Miss Adams’ brow crinkled, and her lips twitched off to the side a little. Her gaze darted downward to the mirror that still showed her private charms shamelessly revealed, and then as if stung by the lewd sight, back to the doctor’s face. She clearly had no wish to acknowledge the truth of the doctor’s word, but every gesture proved him correct.
“You will perhaps think it a very odd thing for me to say, Miss Adams, but in a vital way I support your decision in that regard most fully.”
“What?” It seemed Miss Adams could not still herself sufficiently to prevent the question breaking from her breast, though Dr. Brown felt sure she had not wished to give him the satisfaction of such a reaction, since it of course confirmed that he had ascertained the shape of her ideas correctly.
“I am a physician, Miss Adams.” He looked intently into her eyes. “I am a man of science. I know that our human species has created as many sorrows for itself, in what we term our advancement into this society of ours, as it has joys. One of those sorrows, as I conceive it, is our idea of shame and modesty—an idea not found in nature, and one which even the mythology of the Bible tells us came into the world in error, in the legendary Garden of Eden.”
Miss Adams shook her head. She spoke again, her face now relaxing into fascination as she began to come to grips with the notion. “But…”
Dr. Brown continued, letting his mouth turn up in an ironic smile. “But as a man of science, I am also what we call an empiricist, and among other things, that means that I must be practical, w
ith regard to the world around me. The purpose I have chosen for my existence here on earth concerns the restoration of something of nature’s ways to the sexual and erotic lives of men and women…”
The girl’s jaw fell open, but no sound emerged. She could not of course even know what the word sexual meant, in the modern sense just now coming into fashion, but in association with erotic, she quite clearly understood that he meant what she had done with the footman in the woods, and what she did in her bed at night.
“…and it would be foolish for me to deny that I cannot bring about happiness in the marital chamber—or elsewhere, as occasion demands, for example out of doors, should a natural man wish to have coitus there with a girl who belongs to him…”
Miss Adams drew a sharp breath, then gave a little sob of mingled shame and arousal, but Dr. Brown continued on as if he had not taken notice.
“…without having what men like Mr. Rand might term a decent regard for the customs and conventions of society.”
The fair brow crinkled again. The color, which had started to mount in Miss Adams’ cheeks again, receded as she considered the doctor’s words.
“Thus,” he went on with a bit of self-mocking grandeur in his tone, calculated to put the girl a little more at her ease, “I distinguish, for myself, and for those I help, men and women alike, two kinds of modesty: constructive and corrosive. Corrosive modesty is the sort of modesty from which you wish to free yourself, Miss Adams. In the process, however, because you did not understand the distinction I am making, you mistakenly also attempted to free yourself from constructive modesty.”
He allowed her to ponder this idea for a moment, until she said, “But what precisely is the difference, Doctor?”
“They are not easy to tell apart, at first,” he allowed, “and it is very easy even after a girl has undergone a good deal of erotic training to confuse them.” He noted the slight widening of Miss Adams’ eyes at this second mention of training, but left the matter there for the moment. “Two principles, though, will aid you greatly, one of them immediately and the other quite soon, once your future husband takes you in hand. First, corrosive modesty seeks to deny men and women innocent pleasure, while constructive modesty denies them only those pleasures which would harm them—young women who have not yet had first coitus in particular, or, in the usual parlance, maidens or virgins. Second, because the natural man who trains you for his sexual use will instruct you as to what you must do, with respect to your body and its pleasures, he will decide what sort of modesty befits you.”
Miss Adams’ mouth had remained open, and now her breath came in short pants that indicated how true Dr. Brown’s aim had been both with the sense of his discourse and with its erotic undertones.
“For example,” he said in a brusquer voice, turning his gaze back down to Miss Adams’ pretty, chastised bottom and putting the beak of the speculum again against the tiny flower of her rectum, “with regard to your anus, which your future husband will train thoroughly, and penetrate regularly with his erect penis, in accordance with his natural rights over your person and in particular what he will undoubtedly term your charms.”
She gave a little yelp, and, as he had expected she would, tightened her pretty pink sphincter against the tip of metal instrument.
“It is purely corrosive modesty that makes you blush at the thought of anal coitus,” Dr. Brown declared, “especially as you have already, through your own waywardness, allowed yourself to be penetrated vaginally by the penis. For although it will not give you as much pleasure to have a penis in your bottom as it does to receive coitus in your anterior orifice, where nature has contrived to make you long for a man’s erection, coitus in the posterior orifice is highly pleasurable for the penis, and a man may ejaculate his seed there without fear of harming you through an unwanted pregnancy. Also, because the place is thoroughly linked in every girl’s mind with chastisement, a natural man may have sexual congress with you there to provide needed discipline especially after a spanking or a whipping. Relax your muscles, now, Miss Adams, and push a bit, as you know how to do. There. This is also how you will allow the penis inside this pretty bottom, when the time comes for your future husband to enjoy you here where the speculum is spreading you open now.”
Tiny whining noises came from Miss Adams’ throat as Dr. Brown completed his examination. He had no fear that she would look away from the mirror that showed her the shadowy coral depths of her anal canal. He felt a strong suspicion, too, that her mind had returned to the subject of the other footman—James Oakes, the one who had it seemed taken it upon himself to attempt to save her, by striving to suppress the rumor and by spanking her.
“Yes, quite healthy,” he said. “Like most young women you will require a good deal of training before anal coitus becomes at all comfortable, let alone pleasurable, for you, but your future husband will see to that.”
He withdrew the speculum, thinking that Miss Adams would very shortly come out with the sort of question upon which he could build his final admonition to her before departing with another success to his name.
Indeed she asked it immediately, in a pleading voice. “I don’t understand… about the… the training, and… Who is my future husband?”
Dr. Brown did not answer immediately. “I am going to palpate your clitoris, now, Miss Adams, to relieve any remaining nervous symptoms,” he said, commencing to masturbate her with all the skill at his command. “Continue to observe in the mirror, if you please. A second orgasm will be very instructive for you right now. Tell me, did you get a close look at the footman’s penis? Did he ask you to take it in your mouth, for example, and did you do so, the act which we call fellatio?”
Chapter Thirteen
Rebecca could hardly believe that it had a name, the thing she had wondered if she might offer to do to William. Fellatio.
“He… he didn’t…”
The doctor’s gentle fingers seemed to know how to make Rebecca’s private parts respond to his touch even more efficiently than her own did, despite all her practice. She moaned, and felt her hips buck against his hand as she watched his lascivious work in the mirror, biting her lip so that the moan came out as a low whine that seemed somehow to make her feel the wicked sensation even more intensely.
She had never touched herself again this soon after she had found the release of the moment she knew now to call an orgasm, either: she had supposed that there wouldn’t be as much pleasure to be had there, since the itching, burning need had passed away. The doctor proved that supposition very wrong, however, for though her limbs still felt weak from the first orgasm, her clitoris and vagina, and her punished bottom, too, somehow radiated a pleasure even more intense.
“He was hasty, then?”
Rebecca gave a little cry; the sensation built so quickly. She remembered the way William had shown his prick to her, and the very image in her mind seemed to send stars radiating out from her belly into her bottom, her thighs, her breasts. In the mirror the fingers moved more quickly, gathered wetness from between her delicate inner labia and spread it upward so that they could travel more easily up and down, round and round.
“He showed…” she gasped. “I looked at it.”
“Did you like what you saw, Miss Adams? Girls of your kind generally find their first sight of a penis exciting. I imagine you wanted to suck it?”
Rebecca could no longer keep sufficient wits about her to answer the question, but the doctor’s probing ways, both with his knowing hand and with his inquiring mind, showed her a shadowy but terribly potent image, which her mind superimposed upon the sight in the mirror of the doctor masturbating her. She knelt before her future husband, perfectly naked. He lowered his breeches to uncover himself, and commanded that she take him in her mouth, and Miss Rebecca Adams obeyed eagerly, knowing that she would please him greatly, and knowing too that if she did not do just as he said he would turn her over his knee for a sound spanking.
She cried out, and loose though her
limbs were after the first release, they gathered again in a paroxysm of wild sensation, and they found the summit of bodily joy again, while Dr. Brown calmly went on caressing her, and, even though the orgasm had finished, did not stop, so that she went on whimpering under his touch, feeling herself entirely at his mercy.
“Your future husband will be chosen soon, by those whom your father has given responsibility for ensuring your happiness. He will take you in hand, and teach you to please him, in training sessions you will attend daily once you go up to town.”
“But…” Rebecca protested weakly, thinking about all the things she had planned for her first London season. The word came out in a whimper, and the whimper ended in a little sob. The doctor’s relentless fingers seemed intent on wringing another orgasm from her.
“Never fear, Miss Adams,” he said, though, and then he took his hand away at last. To her embarrassment, Rebecca now gave a little cry of frustration. “You will be allowed to have a brilliant coming out. Whoever he is, your bridegroom will not wish to deny you that, nor to deny himself the pleasure of participating in it. We find such courting displays very frequently in nature, after all. I have no objection to them as a man of science, and I rather enjoy watching it as a prelude to healthy natural erotic activity between a dominant man and a submissive young woman such as yourself.”
Rebecca frowned deeply as the doctor pulled the hem of her chemise down again, and over her knees. He straightened up and went toward the washbasin, where he began to clean his speculum, his back now turned to her.
“I shall ring for the maid in a moment, Miss Adams, to assist you in dressing. Are there any questions you would like to ask before I do so?”
Rebecca thought of what she had planned, before she understood the nature of the doctor’s examination, of how she had meant to pretend to illness so that she might do the thing the doctor had made her do, and then had done himself. She felt heat come into her cheeks as she realized that she still wanted to do it, by herself, but understood at the same time that Dr. Brown had subtly changed the act’s meaning for her.