Reforming Rebecca

by Emily Tilton

  The fashionable predicted that Miss Adams would probably not marry this year, as she seemed enamored more of the town’s pleasures than of any particular young man. The fashionable did not observe her, upon the thirty-first of May, arriving in a closed carriage at a certain house, about whose mysterious tenants the fashionable felt some curiosity.

  The fashionable did not see Miss Rebecca Adams stand before Dr. Brown and hear that she must allow the sturdy matron who stood behind her, barring her way to the door, to assist her in undressing not to her chemise but completely.

  “You have been in town a fortnight, Miss Adams,” the doctor said pleasantly enough, despite the terror he had induced with his instruction to remove all her clothing. “The society have made themselves easy on the score of your having had a chance to enjoy yourself as a flirtatious young lady should be allowed to do, before she is brought to her future husband for training. From now on you will be brought here daily, and the man to whom you have been given will begin to prepare you for your new life as his pleasurable possession.”

  “But, Dr. Brown, could I not… that is to say, perhaps I might wait until after I am presented…”

  Rebecca hardly knew what she meant to say. A fortnight had proven enough time to find that the life of a coquette in society did not possess the attractions attributed to it by Thomasina and herself in such great measure as they had expected. Thomasina, like Rebecca, had been punished for her misdeeds, having gone over her aunt’s knee for a lengthy spanking with a wooden hairbrush after the incident in Hyde Park.

  And Thomasina it seemed had not even been fucked, as Rebecca had, an injustice of which she complained bitterly. The stable boy had hardly even lifted her skirts before they had been discovered. Mr. de Gerner took most frightful advantage, too, of the knowledge that Thomasina had been found with the servant and had received that spanking. Thomasina had indeed confessed to Rebecca she regretted the whole incident, since it had led to her aunt’s practically demanding that she be ready to accept the first man who proposed. Worst of all, the rakish Mr. de Gerner, though he should have been just the sort of man a coquette would prefer, behaved with terrible coarseness and high-handedness toward Thomasina, knowing she must have him if he should ask.

  Nor did Rebecca’s abiding though unspoken recollection of Dr. Brown’s promise that she would be summoned to attend to the instruction of some unknown gentleman allow her to feel at her ease upon social occasions. She would gaze about the drawing rooms of her new acquaintance wondering if somewhere among the faces of the men, as they came in after their port, was the face of the man who the physician’s employers had decreed would hold her as his property. When the card, signed only SCND, had arrived, Rebecca had almost felt relieved.

  The attendance of Miss Rebecca Adams is requested upon the thirty-first instant. A carriage will call for her at two o’clock, and return her to the home of Mr. Rand at nine o’clock.

  It had meant not riding with Thomasina and Mr. de Gerner that day, and not being able to tell her friend why. Mr. de Gerner, truthfully, though, made Rebecca feel angry and uncomfortable with the extreme freedom of his address, which went even to the point of loud speculation with regard to the pleasures of his wedding night, as he rode behind them as their supposedly chivalrous escort. “Will your tight little cunny have so sweet a seat upon my prick, Tommie, as you do upon that roan?” he had called only the day before. Even the most decided flirt, Rebecca thought, must blush at such things, and feel a justifiable anger that a young lady might be trapped in circumstances where she must endure them.

  But if she had blushed at Mr. de Gerner’s freedoms of discourse, how much more must she blush at Dr. Brown’s command? The defiance rose in her breast, now, as it had in indignation to find her friend so terribly circumstanced with regard to her rakish suitor.

  “Come now, Miss Adams,” said the doctor, “must we have this over again? Here in this house, I beg to inform you, disobedience carries much more severe consequences than you experienced at Rand Park. I will summon two more matrons, if I must, to assist in disrobing you.”

  Rebecca saw she had made a terrible mistake in coming here, respecting what she knew to be her father’s wishes, conveyed in a brief note that said only that she must continue to do as Dr. Brown says. She had thought she could endure it, that it must be better than what Thomasina was suffering. She had remembered what Dr. Brown had allowed her to do, and had done himself, in the strange, memorable examination at Rand Park, and had supposed that perhaps for a girl who wished not to shrink from vice, when vice gave pleasure, to obey the summons might come out well in the end.

  Now, though, the idea of standing entirely naked before the doctor, before the matron, before whatever man the society had ‘chosen’… she could not, and they must not ask it of her. She would go back to Mrs. Rand and tell her that Dr. Brown was a monster. She would tell Lady Ambers everything, and throw herself upon that lady’s mercy.

  Rebecca turned to face the matron, majestic—she felt, at least—in her blue silk gown. “I shall go,” she said as imperiously as she could. “Pray stand aside.”

  But the matron did not move, and she heard Dr. Brown pull the bell behind her. Only an instant later, the door opened, to reveal the promised further matrons. The glowering looks upon their faces made Rebecca quail back.

  “Oh, please… I will… I will undress.”

  “Yes, Miss Adams,” said Dr. Brown pleasantly. “You will.”

  Five minutes later, trembling like a leaf, she stood naked before Dr. Brown, trying to cover herself, her right arm across her bosom and her left hand before the triangle of fair thatch between her thighs. The supplementary matrons had taken their leave, carrying with them Rebecca’s gown, corset, petticoats, chemise, and drawers.

  “Place your hands upon your head, Miss Adams,” the doctor said then. “It is time you begin to understand more about the two kinds of modesty of which I told you when I examined you at Rand Park.”

  Rebecca cast her mind back, and found that the idea of obeying Dr. Brown and uncovering herself, of placing her hands as he had instructed so as—it appeared to her in her mind’s eye—to present her naked charms to him, did not now carry a blush of modesty as much as a blush of defiance at the idea of showing her private places so meekly. The spirit of resistance that had seemed quelled only a fortnight ago, in the drawing room of Rand Park, as she writhed against the straps by which James Oakes had bound her for her thrashing, had gradually returned here in London. To be again in Thomasina’s company, even when Thomasina’s own spirit had suffered such a check, had reawakened the girls’ disdain for the conventions by which the world sought to restrain them. Here in Dr. Brown’s chambers it seemed to Rebecca that the physician wished to bind her to her future husband even more firmly than James had bound her to the block. She could not allow it.

  “I shall not, Dr. Brown,” she said in a ringing voice. She intended to make a little speech, then, and declare that she would appeal to her father, or to the constabulary, but the doctor cut her words off in her mouth.

  “Bring her to her master for punishment, Sister Jones, if you please,” he said to the matron.

  Rebecca whirled to see that the matron had already advanced a step. Again she cowered back.

  “Certainly, Doctor,” the iron-haired, broad-shouldered woman said in a voice that sounded very much as if Sister Jones took a certain pleasure in ensuring girls’ obedience and in delivering them to the men who could cure a young lady of her disobedience. “Come along quietly, now, miss.”

  Rebecca found herself up against Dr. Brown’s desk, now. “No,” she said. “I… I won’t!”

  She heard the doctor pull the bell again, and again the other matrons entered the room. This time they gave her no chance to capitulate, but all three of them came and stood around her, as she tried to keep her private parts covered.

  “Shall we shave her between her legs, Doctor, before we bring her for training?” asked Sister Jones.

/>   “What?” Rebecca demanded. What could the woman possibly mean?

  “No, sister,” Dr. Brown replied amiably. “I think not. Her master, I should think, will wish to instruct her on that matter particularly. Then Miss Adams will understand the meaning of being bared much better, when he does send her to you for shaving.”

  Rebecca looked wildly at the doctor. “I—I don’t… what are you…?”

  “It is not necessary that you understand everything now, Miss Adams,” said the doctor in a grave voice. “Your master will teach you.”

  Then the women on either side of Rebecca took hold of her upper arms, and drew her through the door and into the hallway. She would, she knew, have fallen down if they had not supported her, so violently did she tremble. She would have fallen at their feet and begged them to let her go, despite all her intent to resist to the end, for she knew that her resistance only made it more difficult for her, and more painful.

  Then, only a few paces down the hallway, Sister Jones knocked on another door, and a male voice said, “Enter.” The two extra matrons thrust her into the room and closed the door behind her.

  Sister Jones had already begun to speak to the man who occupied a high-backed chair next to the mantelpiece. This room seemed utterly different from the doctor’s chambers: it had the aspect of a large bedroom, though Rebecca swallowed hard to see that a whipping block stood next to the bed, and the man in the chair wore a dressing gown as if despite the time of day he had decided that the time to occupy that bed would soon arrive.

  “She had some difficulty getting undressed, and then she refused to uncover herself, sir,” said Sister Jones. “The doctor said we were to deliver her here, and you would decide what to do with her. Also, when you are ready to have her shaved between her legs, sir, just ring and we’ll come and take her to the bathroom and make sure she’s as smooth as a peach for you.”

  Rebecca felt her brow furrow as she listened. She still did not understand in the slightest, and her defiance seemed to rise up as she resolved that instead of refusing to look at this man whom Dr. Brown called her master she would meet his gaze boldly. She gasped when she saw who the man was, though, and she knew that she understood far less even than she had supposed she did.

  “Come here,” said Mr. Oakes.

  Sister Jones did not allow Rebecca to resist this command, but took her by the arm and pulled her toward the man who had been a servant but now, it seemed, had become her master. She stood now before the grate, still desperately trying to cover her nakedness, her eyes on James’ hands, folded in his lap.

  He said, then, in an admonishing voice that made her skin seem to run with an electric current, “Rebecca, do you know why you are here, and why the doctor made you undress?”

  Chapter Twenty

  “No!” she exclaimed, and James could hear in her voice that she meant to object as much to his using her Christian name as to affirm her ignorance of the reasons for her nakedness.

  But James knew that the ignorance represented only a pretense—only an attempt to defy, and to deny that what she had undergone at Rand Park told her exactly why the society had summoned her, and delivered her to him, naked and blushing. Rebecca wanted to pretend she did not understand, though Dr. Brown had told James in minute detail of his assessment of her sexual readiness, and recounted the information the doctor had imparted to the wayward girl concerning her fate now that the society had decided to assign her to a master.

  Now that she had found that the man chosen by the society was none other than James Oakes, and that she must be naked in his presence, for the start of her training as his sexual property, though, the realization of Dr. Brown’s words had obviously raised the spirit of resistance anew in her breast. James would not have wished it any other way, though his desire upon seeing her uncovered and blushing had risen so high that every moment in which he was not fucking her for the first time seemed like an age.

  “I believe, Rebecca, that Dr. Brown told you to expect your future husband to begin your training immediately, and to come here daily to receive that training. I imagine you wish to pretend that you do not know the nature of the lessons you will now learn, but I also know you to be a clever girl, and so I trust you will have little difficulty in puzzling it out.”

  Rebecca’s eyes darted up to his, and then returned instantly downward to his hands. He suspected the sight of those hands had begun to make her nervous, as it should.

  “Thank you, sister,” he said. “I will ring if we need anything.”

  He had not taken his eyes from Rebecca’s face as he dismissed the matron, and he saw her gaze again flicker upward, with an almost hopeful expression, at the word we. Affection for her filled his heart, but he knew he had a willful flirt on his hands now, and he intended to begin her education firmly.

  The click of the door sounded loud in the silence. James let a few moments pass, so that Rebecca could begin truly to appreciate her position. Then he spoke.

  “You must make your mind up, my darling, to obey me completely in every respect, or to undergo immediate punishment. You must always be prepared, most important, for the command to disrobe, and the command to present your body for your new master’s pleasure. Your training, as I know you have guessed despite what you wish to pretend, will be in what we will call the voluptuous arts. You are going to learn to please me as I am entitled to be pleased, since I am now your master and your future husband. Above all, you are going to learn to please that part of me that even now has grown very hard in anticipation of enjoying you for the first time.”

  Rebecca’s eyes grew very wide. Her sweet, slightly pouty lips parted, as if she had suddenly become a little breathless. Then, in an instant, her blue eyes seemed to flash fire.

  “How can you presume to speak to me in this fashion, sir?” she demanded. “Do you know who my father is? And you not even a footman any longer, but a commoner of the lower orders and, more important, of no significance to me whatever?”

  James found himself growing angry despite his best efforts to treat with kindness the girl whom he adored more with each passing moment. If Dr. Brown had not advised him to expect this sort of resistance in particular, and had not confirmed him in the impression that the wayward girl showed it precisely in order to provoke the exercise of a man’s authority over her, he might have succumbed to the sense of respect practically bred into his sinews by his social class.

  Instead, he returned Rebecca’s angry glare, and said, simply but sternly, “Come here and put yourself over my knee, Rebecca. I am going to spank you like the little girl as which you seem inclined to behave. Then you will display your charms to me properly, with your hands upon your head.”

  “How dare you call me by my Christian name, sir?” she demanded. “Dr. Brown spoke of a future husband, I know, but…”

  James stood up, then, and loomed over her, and let the natural character of the situation speak for him before he added words. Rebecca’s eyes went wide again, lips parted again, and the natural instinct told James exactly what to do, for he read her body’s response to his with absolute certainty. He took her delicious, naked form in his arms and kissed her upon the lips, as she struggled for the briefest of moments and then yielded to his embrace entirely, seeming to melt against him and into him.

  Some of Dr. Brown’s words as they had talked over how James should handle the start of his noble bride’s training came back to him. “A natural man does not hesitate to change the course of a lesson depending on his need.”

  James broke the kiss. “Go bend over the bed,” he said softly. “I am going to fuck you as I would have fucked you that day in your bedchamber if the door had not opened.”

  “Oh,” Rebecca exclaimed softly, and struggled again in his arms just a very little, before yielding herself to him again, as if needing to feel that he would keep her there, that she had no choice. “You would?”

  He turned her just a little, and put his hand down, boldly, between her thighs, to give h
er the first real amorous caress he had bestowed upon her cunny. Rebecca gave an animal cry, much more passionate than startled, and closed her eyes as her head went back at the sensation.

  “Yes, Miss Adams, I would. You need fucking, do you not?”

  Her eyes still closed, she whispered, “Yes.”

  “And,” James couldn’t help adding, “you need spanking, too, don’t you, my darling girl?”

  She kept her eyes shut, and her face crumpled into a woeful pout as she shook her head. James roused her between her legs, in the sweet tangle of curls, around the tiny bud at the very center, and she whimpered.

  “Don’t you?” he asked softly, again.

  “Yes,” Rebecca whispered, though she still shook her head.

  “My cock is so hard for you, now, darling, that the fucking will come first, and the spanking second, but your lesson over my knee will be all the more severe because it had to wait.” He watched the electric effect of the words upon her, heard the little moan as he said over my knee. Her eyes opened, and she bit her lip.

  “Are you truly to marry me, then?” she asked, as if she could not discover whether she felt elated or indignant about the notion.

  “I am, darling. Truly. Go to the bed, and bend over its foot. Your master is going to fuck you for the first time.” James turned her in his arms, moving his hand around her hip until he held her sweet young bottom in his hand, and giving her a squeeze there to make certain his naughty girl understood that he would indeed spank her very soon. The pert cheeks felt so deliciously firm in his hand that he could not resist also bringing his left hand down, between her legs, to renew his caress in front of Rebecca’s clitoris, rubbing a firm circle there and knowing instinctively how possessed this double grip would make her feel.