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Authors: Thomas S. Roche

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BOOK: Like a Wisp of Steam
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Despite herself, Victoria shot Arthur a dirty look, which, luckily, her husband did not see.

"All right, then," said Charles. "What's important is that there is a new procedure to treat such nervous conditions as yours. Mrs. Barker, I think such treatments would clearly be of benefit to you."

Victoria couldn't stop looking at Charles. Something about the way Clara had touched her had awakened all of Victoria's girlhood desires for Dr. Fitzmartin. She recalled the long afternoons under the apple tree imagining that the good doctor was there with her, the warm feelings such reveries elicited in her body. She remembered the fantasized trips to Dr. Fitzmartin's office for an "examination" much more thorough than any he would ever give her in reality.

"Whatever you think best," sighed Victoria, tears forming in her eyes once again.

Victoria sniffled and dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief.

Arthur took note of his young wife's tears and began to grumble. "Good God, Charles, the woman's in crisis. Let's get this over with. Now Victoria, mind you, I'm not going to be around for this treatment. You know I've got a weak stomach for all those woman-things." As if to punctuate his remark, Arthur turned a peculiar shade of green and shuddered, looking away from Victoria. "But I'll be back to retrieve you in one hour—no longer—so don't worry. This treatment ... Well, Charles will explain everything to you." Arthur gave his wife another nauseated look and cleared his throat. "It's all right if I go now, Doctor?"

"Certainly," said Charles coldly, his distaste for Arthur Barker showing through for the first time.

Arthur leapt out of his chair as if he were a schoolboy given a reprieve from the classroom on a warm spring day.

"Tut-tut, now, Victoria, I'm sure the treatment'll seem distasteful at first, but Charles here's a trained physician, so you're in good hands." Then Arthur was gone, having bolted with admirable velocity for a man his age.

Charles turned to regard Victoria, his gaze cold and clinical.

"Well then," said the doctor. "Shall we begin?"

* * * *

Victoria was more than a little nervous at the prospect of this "procedure." Charles told her nothing other than that it would involve rather "personal" places, that it was somewhat

"unconventional," and that she must at all times stay very relaxed. Charles summoned Clara to escort Victoria to a changing room and help her into the gown that would be necessary for her to wear during the procedure.

Victoria blushed as Clara helped her undress.

"Now darling," said Clara Brook with a voice as soft as silk.

"There's no need to be shy. I've seen it all." With that, she began unlacing Victoria's corset, slowly revealing her smooth white belly and breasts. Victoria blushed more deeply, wishing yet again that she had more for Clara to see. But Clara was plainly enchanted with Victoria's small yet firm breasts.

"Aren't these the most delicious things?" giggled Clara, running her hand over the buds of Victoria's nipples. "It's so nasty having more, you know. And I think it's quite clever the way these small ones look in a swimsuit."

Now Victoria was blushing uncontrollably as her nipples stiffened and tingled with intense sensation. It excited her to be complimented like this by such an obviously fetching woman a few years younger than her. But more than that, it excited her to be undressed by Clara. Even so, Victoria was fairly sure that she oughtn't to be letting Clara pinch and stroke her breasts like she was doing. Then again, Clara was a trained doctor's assistant—couldn't this be part of the procedure?

As if reading Victoria's thoughts, Clara cooed softly, "Now Victoria, darling, just relax. I'm well-trained in these matters, and this is a necessary part of the medical procedure."

Then Clara was pushing Victoria onto an examination table, pressing her lips around one firm bud and suckling like a baby while her other hand pinched and teased Victoria's other nipple to full erection. Victoria's eyes went wide and she let out a low moan of pleasure as unexpected sensations flooded through her body with every flicker of Clara's tongue.

Clara was pulling Victoria's dress down further with her free hand, all the while coaxing her breasts to more exquisite sensation.

Suddenly the door to the examination room opened, and Dr. Fitzmartin stood in the doorway with a stern expression on his face. Victoria flooded with shame as she realized that she was partially undressed—Charles could see her breasts quite plainly. But Victoria's shame mingled with another sensation—an excitement, as if it was some sort of lascivious thrill to be showing herself to her family doctor. Victoria knew that was awful: he was a medical professional, after all, and his interest in her body was merely clinical.

In that moment, Charles looked away and covered his eyes.

Clara looked up guiltily from Victoria's breasts, her face blushing deep crimson.

"Clara," growled Dr. Fitzmartin. "What have I told you?

You're to prepare the patient without getting carried away, do you understand?"

"Yes, Doctor," said Clara, chastened. Dr. Fitzmartin closed the door and Clara looked up at Victoria. She gave a naughty little giggle and returned to undressing Victoria.

* * * *

Victoria was gowned for the procedure without further incident. She gathered that there would be some sort of involvement with her private parts, which both interested and mortified her. Victoria kept telling herself that Charles was a professional—he was intimately acquainted with a woman's nether regions, and there was no need for her to be shy about it. And yet Victoria was not comfortable at all with the warm, tingling feel that knowledge brought to her body.

Wearing the thick, concealing hospital gown, much like a nightgown but looser around her bust, Victoria was led by Clara into another examination room, albeit one outfitted with curious equipment.

There was a slanted table with two stirrups, not unlike a birthing chair, perhaps, and right next to it was a bicycle.

A bicycle?

Victoria realized that, in fact, this was not a bicycle: there was only one wheel, which attached to a curious collection of wires leading to a rather complicated wand that rested on a table just in front of the stirrupped chair.

"Goodness," said Victoria, frightened for the first time of the fate that was about to befall her.

Charles had garbed himself for the procedure in a white coat of the same material, it seemed, as Clara's dress. Clara offered her another knowing smile before helping Victoria into the chair. Victoria blushed as Clara helped her to place her bare feet into the stirrups, spreading her legs in a most unladylike manner. The gown still cloaked Victoria's nether regions, but simply having her legs spread like that was shockingly powerful.

She hadn't been spread like this since ... since ... since...

Victoria realized that there were thick leather straps mounted to the sides of the seat. Clara quickly drew the thickest strap around Victoria's waist, buckling and cinching the leather belt until it kept Victoria quite firmly in place.

Victoria felt curiously restrained, especially when Clara took hold of her wrists and circled each of them with a similar strap.

"You may feel quite uncomfortable during the procedure,"

drawled Charles as Clara swiftly fastened straps around Victoria's legs, restraining them in their vulnerable, spread position. "Clearly some very delicate regions are involved.

This is why the restraints are helpful: we can't have you struggling and possibly interfering with the procedure."

"But ... Doctor..." gasped Victoria breathlessly. "Is it unpleasant?"

Charles shrugged, and Victoria thought for a moment that she could see the faintest hint of a smile on his handsome face. That sent a shiver through her.

"There can be confusing sensations associated with the procedure," said Charles. "But you must trust that no matter how desperately you wish to get away, you are being kept restrained for your own good. Failure to complete the procedure once we've begun could be devastating. Do you understand?"

Victoria had such a nagging familiarity associated with that phrase "for your own good." Wasn't that what Arthur had said that night—the last time, Victoria remembered with a flash of heat, that she had found her legs spread like this.

"For my own good," she echoed, understanding that while Arthur had been mistaken, Charles most certainly was not.

Clara swiftly cinched the final strap around Victoria's ankle.

Now Victoria was most cleverly restrained. Clara bent forward and gave Victoria a tender, sisterly kiss on the lips, which earned a look of rebuke from the doctor.

"Just relax," whispered Clara. "And leave everything to us.

It's not so horrible—trust me, I know."

Victoria looked up at Clara for a moment—had she undergone the procedure, too? Perhaps during an earlier experimental phase? Victoria would have to make it a point to ask Clara some time.

Clara gave Victoria's hair a last ruffle, a motherly look crossing her face. Then, to Victoria's surprise, Clara mounted the bicycle, indelicately hoisting her white dress to allow her to part her legs around the bicycle's rather curiously-shaped seat.

Clara took quite a long time to settle herself on the chair, having some evident difficulty getting herself into the right position.

Charles seemed to read Victoria's confusion perfectly. "This procedure uses electrical power, a rather new manner of running things. Unfortunately, it's impractical to run a steam engine in the office, so the stationary bicycle will provide us with the power we need. Please begin."

Clara began to pedal furiously.

Victoria's eyes went wide as Charles lifted the curious wand that was attached to the end of the wires and cables. It had a long, thick body and a globular head that narrowed to a dull point on one side. It looked like some sort of royal scepter, but with clinical, modern-looking nubs all over it instead of jewels.

Then Victoria gasped in fright as she realized that the globular end of the wand was humming, throbbing,
vibrating
, with terrifying efficiency.

Victoria looked at Charles for reassurance, but the doctor was quite involved with the procedure, paying little attention to his patient's dismay. Victoria's eyes swept the room, and came to rest on the violently-pedaling Clara, who flashed Victoria a lascivious grin and a too-obvious wink.

Victoria looked back at Charles and stared wide-eyed as he began to move the gyrating wand toward her.

"Now Victoria," said Charles. "This may cause some ...interesting ... sensations in your lower body. Keep in mind that I will leave the gown in place at all times, to allow for your modesty. I will be applying this treatment strictly by feel, so don't be shocked by the apparent ... intimacy of my touch."

Victoria was falling, desperately falling into a vast chasm of nothingness. Charles slipped the vibrating wand under the wide bottom of Victoria's gown—

And then Victoria gasped as Charles's hands touched her nether regions. Her most private place.

Perhaps Victoria had expected the doctor's hands to explore her. But like this? He was actually touching—stroking, caressing—her sex!

Then Victoria's head began to spin as Charles parted the lips of her female parts. The sensations overwhelmed her as Charles deftly exposed a sensitive region near the top of Victoria's womanhood ... and applied the bulbous tip of the wand.

Unexpectedly, and uncontrollably, Victoria's body spasmed and she began to scream. She strained against the leather straps that held her in place. She shook her head back and forth as she screamed wildly, choking and sobbing in sudden catharsis.

"Hold, Miss Brook," said Charles loudly, over the sound of Victoria's screams, and Victoria turned her head to see a wide-eyed Miss Clara Brook with her dress rather askew and her face and neck flushed deep red. Surely it was the exertion of pedaling the bicycle, though the look that Clara was giving the squirming and screaming Victoria certainly implied something else.

The sensations in her sex lessened, and Charles looked up at Victoria's face.

"Describe what you felt," said Charles firmly.

Clara quickly said, "It was like the bicycle was my lover, and I was—"

"Miss Brook!" snapped Charles. "I was speaking to Mrs. Barker."

"Of course," giggled Clara, embarrassed.

"What did you feel, Victoria?"

"It ... It was like my whole body was being penetrated by a white light ... Oh, Doctor, I've never experienced anything like that..."

Charles nodded. "Excellent. Proceed, Miss Brook."

Victoria moaned as the throbbing of the magic wand drew close to her sex once more. She whimpered desperately, frightened but excited by the closeness of the blessed instrument. When the blazing, throbbing head of the vibrator touched her once more, Victoria let out another scream—but this time, Charles did not relent, but pressed more firmly against her sex, and in a few seconds Victoria's thrashings were quieted, and her screams turned to moans.

"Relax, Victoria," sighed Charles soothingly. "Relax into the sensations. You're doing fine."

Victoria still squirmed and pulled against the leather restraints, but her moans and screams had turned to gasps of pleasure. She realized with embarrassment that she had begun to utter Charles's name, but she found that she could not stop.

Then there was Charles's touch again, underneath the throbbing hum of the vibrating wand. His fingers. Probing.

Teasing. Parting her nether lips. Two fingers pushing inside her body, stroking her maidenhead.

"Hold, Miss Brook," Charles ejaculated nervously.

Clara let out a sorrowful moan, but managed to stop pedaling. Her dress was now extremely rumpled, and she appeared to be sheened with a thin film of sweat. Her eyes gazed dully at the squirming Victoria and her mouth hung open as she panted unstoppably.

"Victoria," said Charles sternly. "I don't wish to get more personal than is necessary. But am I correct in thinking that you and Arthur have not..."

Charles's fingers were still inside Victoria, stroking that place where Arthur had never been. Victoria's moans and whimpers rose in pitch even without the stimulation of the vibrating wand. She stared at Charles with surrender, tears filling her eyes.

BOOK: Like a Wisp of Steam
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