11 comments/ 86002 views/ 20 favorites Hysteria By: save_marla "Uh...there must be some mistake," I croaked uncertainly as the door opened and the doctor stepped into the room with my records under his arm. I had been expecting my regular GP, a no-nonsense 50-something woman I'd been seeing for the last five years. The man who closed the door behind him was much closer to my age, perhaps even a bit younger. Dark hair, dark eyes, with handsome clean-cut features and an easy smile, which he turned warmly on me now, extending his hand. "I'm Dr. Walsh. Your regular physician is assisting with a delivery this afternoon, and I'm taking her appointments." He narrowed his eyes good-naturedly, holding my hand at arm's length to look at me, and continued, "I think I may have seen you once before." I remembered now, as he dropped my hand and sat down to open my file. I'd come to the clinic one evening last winter with a painful bladder infection, and Dr. Walsh had been the doctor on duty. I remember being marginally aware of the humiliation of being so vulnerable and dependent on the assistance of a cute guy so close to my own age, and I had moaned as I let him touch me. But the urgent pain was so intense that I could not focus on anything, except making it stop. I remembered his kind smile, and his gentle hands. I never thought I'd have to see him again. He took a pair of glasses from his pocket and leafed through my records, and I was glad that for the moment, he paid no attention to me. I might have blushed under his gaze if he'd looked up. "So..." he mused, putting the papers back in order and looking again at the first sheet, "We're here for a quick exam after your first three months on the Depo Provera injection - aaaand, if everything looks good, we'll give you the next dose today. Sound good?" He closed the folder with a light slap, to show his enthusiasm. I swallowed and avoided his eyes. "Um..." I was being silly, of course. If I cancelled now, who knew when I'd get another appointment, and it would throw off the timing of the birth control. I looked up at him -- he was still smiling. I attempted a small, brave smirk in return, and nodded. "Sure." He clapped his hands and stood up, whisking a curtain across to divide the room, and gestured for me to step behind it. I set my purse on a chair and glanced at the high exam table, crisply papered and stirruped and waiting. The doctor's voice interrupted my thoughts. "If you'd like to get undressed, please, and get up on the table -- just give me a shout when you're ready." I nodded, though he couldn't see it through the curtain, and began unbuttoning my blouse. I was thinking suddenly about the state of my pubic area -- I had only done a peripheral trim in the shower that morning, and was mildly concerned about making a bad impression. I scolded myself silently for my immaturity as I slipped my skirt down and draped it over the back of the chair. I paused as I looked down at my bra. "All the way?" I asked hesitantly through the curtain. There was a pause, and some humor in his voice as he replied, "Yes, please." I wrinkled my nose as I unhooked my bra and let my breasts fall loose. The sooner this was over with, the better. I tiptoed in bare feet over to the table and climbed up carefully, the crackle of the paper betraying me before I called out, "Okay -- ready." I tucked my elbows in and clasped my hands over my stomach, resisting the urge to cover my sex. But I dug my heels into the edge of the table and kept my knees pressed together. I couldn't deal with the stirrups yet. He brushed the curtain aside nonchalantly and smiled at me, keeping his gaze locked on my face, as if that made me any less conscious of my nakedness. "How're we doing?" He had pulled a tray of instruments to the foot of the table, just out of my range of sight. It was more difficult to smile again, his handsome face was a shock all over again, and my body shivered slightly in anticipation. He stepped over to the table to look down at me, and explained matter-of-factly that he was going to examine my breasts for lumps, first, and then follow directly with a pelvic exam and Pap smear. I squeaked an acknowledgement, trying to slow my increasingly panicked breathing as he took one wrist in his hand and moved it behind my head. I could feel my cheeks growing hot as he palpated my breast with fingers from both hands, pressing firmly into the plump fresh around the nipple. "Any history of breast cancer in your family?" he asked, his face neutral and slightly averted, his focus on my body, not my face. I replied that there was not. My voice sounded all right to me, and I breathed cautiously in relief. His fingers closed gently on the nipple, plucking at it delicately. "Have you noticed any increased tenderness, since your last shot?" He squeezed gently, and I gasped as my nipple tingled. "Uh -- no," I replied uneasily. He adjusted my arms and moved to examine the other breast in the same manner. I found myself chewing my lower lip, and made myself stop. I held my breath as he took the nipple between his fingers and applied slow pressure. "Any discharge from the nipples?" "No." "All right, thank you," he said lightly, walking a few steps to the instrument tray near my ankles. I heard the clink of metal on the tray as he pulled a pair of latex gloves from a box and stretched them over his fingers. My stomach clenched in trepidation, and I looked away, catching sight of my nipples, still stiffly erect and pointing at the ceiling. I curled an arm over my chest and shifted uneasily as Dr. Walsh moved to the foot of the table. I swallowed hard as he touched an ankle and instructed me to put my feet in the stirrups, guiding one of my legs himself. He did not have the relative luxury of little quilted pads on the stirrups, and I was suddenly aware, and perturbed by the small discomfort of the cold steel biting into my insteps. I tried to keep my knees together, but with a reproachful smile he pushed them apart and I let them fall to the sides, my thighs trembling slightly. He shook his head slightly and chided me, "I have back-to-back appointments for the next six hours. We can't waste time." As I watched between my spread thighs, the doctor reached behind him to snap on and adjust a lamp awkwardly, so that it shined first in my eyes and then fully illuminated my perineum. He slid a low stool between his legs and leaned in. His gloved hand rested on my thigh and he murmured, "Wider, please." My legs twitched under his touch -- it would be intimate, inappropriate, if it weren't for the gloves. When I had widened the angle of my legs to his satisfaction, he removed his hand and returned his attention to my exposed sex. He paused, frowning at my crotch, and then reached again for something on his tray. I flinched as I felt the cold wet strokes of a sanitary towelette, and my cheeks burned. He was cleaning me before he examined me. If he noticed my complete mortification, he didn't comment on it. "You're going to feel my fingers," he informed me evenly, and a moment later his cool fingertips were tugging at my labia, pinching down one side, then the other, checking for abnormalities. His fingers moved slickly along my lips, as if lubricated, and I realized in horror that I must have been moist for some time. He pushed my inner labia apart, and I felt his breath for a moment as he worked his way upwards, exposing my urethra and prodding it with his finger. "Any problems, infections, since the last time you saw me?" He remembered. Maybe he was better recalling vaginas than he was at faces. I shook my head, not sure that he would see it, but unable to speak as he continued up, pushing back the hood of thin flesh covering my clitoris. He hesitated here a few moments, but he was strictly careful not to touch my clit. I was keenly aware of his deliberate avoidance. He cleared his throat and murmured, "And now you're going to feel my finger entering you for just a moment. Take a deep breath for me." I inhaled shakily, feeling one thick finger slide into my tight sheath in one smooth movement. "Aaand, one more..." as he eased a second long finger into me. My breathing grew shallow as I felt him touching me inside, and I found myself surprised, as I was every time, at how much this felt like a violation. He reached forward to palpate my abdomen with the fingers of his other hand, and I winced as he probed my ovaries. He smiled up at me reassuringly, and withdrew his hand, but before he had removed his fingers completely, I felt my hips lift of their own accord, and my muscles clenched reflexively to grip his retreating fingers. I gasped, feeling it, and looked quickly at him, but he was tactfully removing his gloves and donning a fresh pair. He struggled to keep a note of amusement out of his tone, and very nearly succeeded. "One more time, deep breath --" and I inhaled sharply as he pushed a finger into my sex and one into my anus. Holding my breath as I felt him twisting his fingers slightly, screwing them into me. "Just a quick bimanual exam, relax, I'll be finished in just a minute." My face pinched with discomfort as I felt him plug both my holes, reaching deep, pinching the tissue between them. I moaned softly, lifting my hips again and then abruptly bucking twice, violently, like a practiced whore, clinging to his hand inside me. "Relax," he told me again, more forcefully, as he tried to ease his fingers out of me and I shuddered at the erotic sensation. I rolled my eyes up and looked at the ceiling, feeling the sting of humiliating tears I would not let myself shed. I listened as the doctor pulled his gloves off with a snap and threw them in the garbage. I heard him move to a small sink in the room and run the water, and was glad for something -- anything -- to fill the uncomfortable silence. When I ventured a fleeting glance at him, he seemed not amused now, but almost flustered. "Are you sexually active now, Ms. Roberts?" he asked suddenly, not looking at me. It was a perfectly legitimate question, but I wondered anxiously about the timing of it. There was an edge to his tone now that sounded almost like impatience. "Um, no -- I-I just got out of a relationship," I stammered, watching him and trying to read his body language. He looked up suddenly and his eyes burned into mine. "Do you masturbate?" I felt my mouth fall open slightly, but I could not tear my gaze away, and I nodded, feeling the colour rise in my cheeks again. Dr. Walsh was relentless. "And how often do you masturbate?" I couldn't bear it, I squeezed my eyes shut, my mouth working soundlessly as I tried to form the words. I could hear him moving between my legs again, and feel the brush of his sleeve as he reached across to his tray of instruments. Finally I blurted, "I -- maybe a few times a week?" "And did you masturbate before you came here today?" he asked evenly. My eyes flew open and I gasped in shock, sitting up part-way. "What? No!" He was nonplussed. "All right, just -- relax," I felt his hand on my thigh, and I eased back down onto the table, the paper sticking to my bum. "This is the speculum, it's going to feel a bit cold." I felt the tips of a steel speculum nudging between my labia, and his fingertips spreading me open to guide it into me. It was cold and wet, like an icicle sliding into my warm sheath, and I shuddered as I felt the length of it fill me until his gloved knuckles touched my sex. I struggled to keep my legs wide and still as he turned the instrument 90 degrees. "Okay, we're going to open up now, you'll feel some pressure." He directed his comments at my crotch as he squeezed the handles slowly. I caught my breath -- my heart was pounding wildly. This was the part I'd been waiting for, dreading, and I was so afraid that I would react inappropriately. I tried not to remember his last question -- did he think I was enjoying this? A small moan escaped me as I felt the steel bills separate inside me, prying me open. I tried not to imagine what he was seeing, but couldn't help picturing my tight, neat little sex spreading before his eyes, my plump pink lips yawning open to expose my secret insides. I began to tremble. I could feel my muscles clenching suddenly around the instrument inside me, and prayed he wouldn't see it. I willed myself to relax, but I could feel my entire sex pulsing and quivering, trying to take some twisted pleasure in this -- my anxiety only making the sensations more pronounced. Dr. Walsh eased the speculum open a bit wider, and glancing down, I could see his brow crease with concentration. His voice was grave as he instructed me again to relax -- breathe -- and I struggled desperately to obey. The speculum was opened to its widest capacity, and as the doctor began working to lock it open, I felt a jolt of violent pleasure, like the first swallow of very rich hot chocolate. In spite of myself, my hips lifted again with a rattle of paper as my buttocks clenched and I let out a keening groan, loud in his little office. I felt his hand on me, pushing me back down on the table as he growled, "Just let me do my job!" But his anger was the end of me -- I could feel my hips thrusting as my wet lips squelched around the steel bills of the speculum. He lost his grip and the instrument clattered shut inside me, the smothered sound of the metal against itself, lost inside my hungry, twitching sex. I covered my burning face with my hands as I felt the shudders subside, though my arousal still glowered under the surface, like burning embers that could burst into flames at any time. He pulled the speculum out of me rudely, without finesse, and let out a world-weary sigh as he stepped back to regain his composure. I heard his steps on the tiled floor as he approached, and felt the heat from the nearness of his body as he stood over me before he demanded, "Look at me." For a moment I didn't think I could comply. If I could just remain like this, maybe we wouldn't have to talk about what had just happened. But I felt his fingers close on my wrists and take my hands away from my eyes. I looked up at him, but his expression was hard and set. "All right." He held my wrists in a firm grip. "It's obvious that you're having -- a little trouble, here." I moaned and turned my face away, but he continued inexorably. "So here's what we're going to do. I'm going to leave the room to return some phone calls, and while I'm gone you're going to take care of your little problem." He let go of my wrists, and I turned back to look at him, miserable. He pulled the curtain across again, offering me the semblance of privacy, even in an empty room. "When I get back, we will finish this without any more hold-ups. Understand?" I nodded, but he was already stepping around the curtain. "Good." His tone was all business now, no humor or friendly chit-chat. "I'll be about 10 minutes." I heard his footsteps cross the room and the door opening and closing with a determined click. Immediately my hands flew to my face again, pressing against my closed eyes as I breathed slowly through parted lips and tried to pretend this was all just a bad nightmare. But he was coming back. As if I suddenly felt his gaze on me, I jerked one hand away from my eyes and reached between my legs, still set wide in the stirrups. My clit was aching and swollen, anticipating my touch, and my sex was as ripe and juicy as split fruit. I let my fingers tentatively trace the edges of my labia, and then, with a shaky inhale, I pulled the hood of my clitoris up to expose it, as he had done. I could feel the tiny organ throbbing with need, and my cheeks burned as I reached with my middle finger and pressed hard against my pelvic bone, trying to quell the craving. I leaned back and closed my eyes as I made small circles with my finger, stirring my pleasure as it simmered. I tried to imagine myself any place but here -- at home in my bed -- if I could believe that, I might be able to drift into an orgasm. But I could not ignore my surroundings: the bite of the stirrups under my curled insteps, the paper stuck to me with my own sweat, the smells of latex and rubbing alcohol. Yet somehow the undeniable fact that I was lying on an exam table sent a thrill of excitement through me, and my pleasure teetered on the brink of culmination. His face swam before my closed eyes, his impatient, almost irritated expression as he directed me to bring myself to orgasm before he returned -- and my soaring lust dipped like a kite on a loose string. I pressed my lips together and exhaled in a slow breath. I changed tactics and began strumming my fingers rapidly across my clitoris, gasping at the new sensations that rose and rose but would not converge in the climax I so urgently needed. With the other hand, I cupped one of my breasts and squeezed the handful of flesh, working it roughly, like an eager lover. Taking my clit between two fingers, I pinched it as hard as I dared, crying out at the pleasure-pain, and tugged on it, trying to coax along the blissful paroxysms I knew were possible -- all to no avail. The maddening throb in my loins seemed to mock my best efforts. I lay back, sweating lightly, and took my hands away from my body and put them over my eyes again. I couldn't do it. The door opened without warning, and Dr. Walsh strode in purposefully, pulling the curtain aside, but stopped when he saw me taking my hands away. He turned away abruptly, but not before I saw his jaw stiffen. "Did you do anything at all?" he demanded quietly, closing his office door. My voice caught in my throat. "I -- I did, I tried...I couldn't finish." He leaned on both hands against the desk, his head lowered between his shoulders. His sigh was loud, exasperated. When he spoke his voice was slightly muffled. "I have four patients out there waiting for me, and you are wasting my time." I winced, but did not know how to respond. Dr. Walsh straightened up and turned back to face me, on the table. Without a word, he took a new pair of gloves and pulled them on methodically. His expression was stormy as he looked up at me -- he looked almost ashamed of what he had to say next. "Here's what's going to happen." His voice was thick with emotion, suddenly he looked like a dangerous man. "I am going to bring you to climax, as you are unable to do the job yourself. We're going to get through the Pap, give you the shot, and then you're going to get the hell out of my office." I could hardly look at him, but I managed to nod, swallowing the immediate surge of lust I felt, knowing that he would touch me, and make me come. He must have seen something in my eyes, because he continued bluntly, "This is not to be interpreted as in any way sexual. Believe me when I say that I have better things to do." My jaw tightened and I squeezed my eyes shut, nodding again. His words stung, but did not lessen my frantic arousal. I curled my toes in the stirrups, in anticipation, as he moved between my legs. His brow was dark, his shoulders slumped as he took his seat, adjusting the lamp again so that he could see what he was working with. I gasped sharply as I felt his fingers close around my clitoris, rubbing it between them and then digging up under the hood, where it was most sensitive. I grunted, my tongue lolling out of my mouth at the intensity of this new sensation, and he rubbed with dogged persistence as I squirmed on the table, inching my hips down to meet him. He exhaled a harsh breath and tried a different move, mashing my clit into my pelvic bone, tweaking it back and forth under his thumb. I gasped at the rush of rosy bliss, and cried "Oh..." "Quiet," he snarled, and I pressed my lips together to keep from making another sound as my thighs twitched in excitement. I covered my hot face with my hands as I struggled to maintain control, even while I tried frantically to let go, and let myself come. I panted in frustration, the pleasure seeming almost a painful torment. Hysteria "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Doctor Faschen," Mrs. Alice Hastings said as she stepped into the private consulting room. Caroline, the nurse, followed her in and closed the door behind them. "Not at all, Madame," Doctor Faschen said in an accent that Alice had never, for the life of her, quite been able to place. The good doctor was quite a mysterious fellow, with dark hair and dark, piercing eyes, and no doubt his accent had been altered somewhat by his studies on the Continent. On days like today, Alice was simply thankful to have found him at all; her nervous distraction had reduced her quite nearly to tears, necessitating her sudden visit to Doctor Faschen's practice. "I am quite accustomed to patients who need my immediate attention, and you happened to find me at a convenient gap between appointments. Please, describe your symptoms to me." Alice knew perfectly well that her symptoms were the same every visit, but she was nonetheless grateful for the chance to talk about them. "Distraction, Doctor. I cannot concentrate on even the simplest thing without having to worry about shortness of breath, trembling in my hands and body, a terribly feverish sensation, and it seems focused..." She blushed, as she always seemed to when discussing this part. Faschen was, of course, a doctor, and quite accustomed to dealing with the impoliter parts of a woman's body, and Caroline was as discreet as always, but even so, she took a deep breath before admitting, "...in my womanhood, Doctor." Doctor Faschen nodded, fixed his monocle into place, and stared deeply into her eyes for a long moment. "Flushed skin, rapid motions of the eyes, goosebumps upon the skin...yes, I believe that it is a recurrence of your nervous hysteria. No doubt brought about by an imbalance of magnetic fluids in the womb, but we shall not be able to tell until you have removed your clothing. Caroline, if you would?" Caroline nodded silently, and moved to assist Alice in removing her clothing. "It is as I feared, then," Alice said as she removed her dress. "Oh, but this is a dreadful affliction, Doctor! It saps my abilities so! I was at Mrs. Norris' tea yesterday, and I could scarcely keep my mind on conversation." She slipped off her camisole, setting it on the chair provided. "The waves of distraction flowing from my womanhood kept me quite unsettled throughout tea, unbalancing my brain most severely." She stood still as Caroline began to unlace her corset. "Please, do continue, Mrs. Hastings," Doctor Faschen said. "I know that it is somewhat embarrassing, but only by a thorough explanation of your symptoms can I understand exactly how the condition is affecting you." Caroline finished unlacing, and Alice removed her corset to add it to the growing pile of clothing. "I am afraid that whilst I was in that...that deranged state, I found myself possessed by immodest visions. Mrs. Norris was polite enough not to notice, but I could tell she was aware of my distracted state. Thankfully, I think she was quite unaware of what visions were appearing before me." Alice began removing her petticoats, one after another. "And those visions were?" Doctor Faschen fixed his gaze upon her, and she could not help but recount the shameful thoughts as she looked into the monocle. "I saw...within my mind's eye, I saw the waiter close the door of the tearoom, fasten the lock, and round upon us. He grabbed Mrs. Norris first, ripping open her bodice to reveal..." She removed another petticoat, almost mechanically as she was transported by the memory. "...to reveal the appendages of her womanhood. I was helpless to stop him in this vision, but worse, the distracting dizziness in my own womb grew fiercer as I watched the two of them struggle. It was like I was swooning, Doctor, as this madman ravished Mrs. Norris, and part of me ached with the thought that I might be next!" Having finally finished removing her petticoats, Alice slipped her chemise over her head, letting her bountiful breasts expose themselves to the warm air of the doctor's office. "Oh, but that was not the worst part, Doctor! In this vision, the man, he grabbed my hand, pulled me towards them, and forced me to place my own..." Alice practically sobbed as she removed her drawers. "He made me place my hands upon Mrs. Norris' body, Doctor. And that fierce tingling in my womb, it simply would not stop! Oh, Doctor, these visions are a form of madness! They had ceased almost entirely after I saw you last, but I fear they have returned! Please, you must help!" "I believe I can," Doctor Faschen said. "Please, lie back upon the couch and allow me to examine you." Alice stepped away from the chair, now completely unclad, and as Caroline placed cloths underneath her body, she lay back upon the couch. The Doctor placed his hand upon her forehead, covering her eyes. "Now, my dear, let us begin by simply aligning the magnetic fluids of your brain to produce a state of calm." He began slowly stroking his hand across Alice's forehead, and almost immediately, she felt some of her nervous terror subside as the slow, soft stroking motion soothed her jangled nerves. "Very good, my dear," Doctor Faschen said, already noticing her changed state. He brought his other hand up to her head, and moved so that both his hands were stroking her temples. Alice let out a soft, gentle sigh as she felt her mind relaxing under his ministrations. "Yes, you can feel the fluids of your brain becoming more tranquil now, calmer, subsiding from their furious motions, can't you, Alice?" "yes, Doctor..." Alice could even hear the change in her own voice, such a far cry from the hysterical tones of a few minutes ago. Doctor Faschen stared down at her as he continued to rub her temples, his eyes fixing her with their penetrating gaze as he used his animal magnetism to gently quiet the fevered blood in her brain. It was the same every time she came to Doctor Faschen; nobody seemed to be able to soothe her quite the way he could. His hands moved down her face, slowly stroking the tension down, further down her body. He'd done this so many times before, each and every time she came to him with these dreadful feelings that threatened to consume her, and she didn't even need him to speak to understand exactly what he was doing to her. But he spoke nonetheless, and she listened eagerly, openly, receptively. "And now, Alice, I'm moving that tension back down your body. It's flowed up from your womb, flowed throughout your whole body and into your brain, but I'm moving those fluids back down. As you feel my hands upon you, you can feel the tension flow back out of that part of your body, flow back down towards your womb." Alice felt his hands gently stroking her neck now, and her head already felt light and relaxed, her mind already felt utterly free of cares as she continued to gaze up at him. "You're doing very well, Alice," Doctor Faschen said, his hands now stroking her shoulders, gently and firmly moving down her arms, "and you know that I can always help you when you feel this way, that I can always cure your hysterical fits, that I can always purge the madness from your body." His hands moved down the outside of her arms, all the way down to her hands and fingers, then slowly stroked back up the inside. Alice felt her breath quicken slightly, and knew from experience what was beginning to happen. "Yes, Alice," he said, his hands moving up onto her chest, "you know that as I push the fluids further back towards your womb, they become more concentrated. You feel them now, churning furiously in your womanhood, making you flushed and hot and dizzy." Alice squirmed slightly on the padded sofa. Doctor Faschen had placed his hands where her bodice had once lay, and he was paying particular attention to that part of her body, as the fluids tended to concentrate there as well. Alice could feel them, like a force pressing outward, causing her...causing her nipples to puff out, to expand, to harden, and the doctor stroked them again and again, and Alice heard herself whimper as she felt the fluids of her womb begin to flow, now... "And you know, Alice, that this cure cannot last, that once again, the fluids will build up in your womb and need to be discharged." His left hand continued to stroke now, moving in a smooth, easy motion down her stomach, while his right hand began to brush its way up her legs, swiftly now, vitalizing strokes that made her whole body tingle. "You will forget this knowledge, because that realization would only cause the hysteria to build up quicker, but in your deepest mind, you are aware that there will come a point when the tension overflows and you must come and see me again. Only I can release this tension, relieve this ache so deep within you." Alice knew that was so true, knew she'd heard him tell her that before, knew that it was so good that he was helping her to forget, because that would calm her even more. Doctor Faschen's hands were converging now onto her body, and Alice felt herself quivering now, shaking and panting as the fluids of her womb reached a near-boiling fury. She could feel them, leaking out onto the cloths that Caroline had been so thoughtful as to put down, and she knew that soon the doctor would be able to purge them from her entirely, and she was looking forward to that so much...she felt his hands now, pressing against the entrance to her womb and stroking, and stroking, and stroking her womanhood as she gazed into his eyes and she felt his animal magnetism, his powerful hands on her body, their touch seeming so vivid, stimulating and exciting all her nerves as he finally forced the harmful magnetism out. Alice practically shrieked in pleasure as they left her, and as always happened, she felt such a rush of pure, healthy, wonderful bliss as Doctor Faschen's hands purged her sickness that she could barely stand it. The treatment felt wonderful, and she knew that she would need to come back for it again and again, but as she let her body relax, and let her mind relax, she let that knowledge sleep within her as she closed her eyes and breathed out a heavy sigh. Then her mind slept completely for a time. ***** "...and wake, my dear," Doctor Faschen said, and Alice opened her eyes. She felt wonderful, reinvigorated and relaxed, and she practically hopped off of the couch. "Thank you, Doctor!" she said, using one of the cloths to clean away the residue of the harmful fluids. She began to dress once again, aided by Caroline. "Oh, I feel quite renewed!" Doctor Faschen held up a hand. "Please, my dear Mrs. Hastings, think nothing of it. I assure you, the pleasure was entirely mine." Alice pulled back on her petticoats, and slipped her corset back on. "Caroline will see to the details of payment, of course. Would that I could perform my services free of charge, naturally, but I must ever research new techniques, and such researches must be obtained dearly." "Oh, think nothing of it, Doctor!" Alice said as she donned her camisole. "Your treatments have been such a tonic to me, I'm even thinking of recommending my friends to you!" Doctor Faschen took his monocle out and cleaned it. "Naturally, I would be happy to perform a consultation with them. It may be that they have problems they are not even aware of as yet." Alice put her dress back on, and as Caroline helped her to button it back up, she let out a happy sigh. "You're a wonder, Doctor Faschen. I don't know what I would do without you." Doctor Faschen escorted her to the door in a gentlemanly fashion. "Let us hope we never have to find out," he said. He opened the door. "Please, Mrs. Hastings, feel free to call upon my services anytime." For a moment, Alice's eyes glazed over into a dreamy expression. "...i will..." she said absently, before shaking her head as if to clear it, and proceeding into the outer room. As she settled the bill with Caroline, she could swear she heard the sound of laughter from the inner office. THE END Hysteria "I hate doctors" Emma thought to her self as the carriage rattled over the cobble stones. "Why does he have to treat me like a child, I'm 21, and he still treats me like a little girl; I have a right to be consulted." Emma glanced across at her mother, sitting ridged as a board next to her. "It's all mothers fault, Mother and Dr Bennet - why do they get to talk about me behind my back" she thought. "It's bad enough they talk behind my back but now being diagnosed with Hysteria, and no one will even tell me what it is or what the treatment is. It certainly sounds bad" she brooded to herself. "Well I'm damn well going to find out, at the library, if no one tells me". The carriage rolled on through the streets of London, but Emma didn't look up, she was quite mad at her mother and Dr Bennet. The carriage finally came to a halt at the terrace house and Tom the porter opened the door with a smile, and held out his hand to assist Emma down from the carriage. She quickly got out of the carriage not accepting his hand or even acknowledging him. "Thank you Tom" Mother said as she accepted Tom's hand and got out of the carriage. Ready with a non verbal rebuke for Emma for being so rude. Emma was in too much of a bad mood to be polite to Tom, and started stalking up the path to the front door. Mrs Watchet, the house keeper, opened the door for Emma as she stormed through the door to the drawing room. A visit to the Dr's surgery always left Emma in a bad mood, although she was normally not like this. Emma went over to a large sofa chair and plopped down into it, in a very un-lady like way. However she quickly sat up straight before her mother arrived to tell her off. Her mother walked into the room and gave Mrs Watchet a quick nod which meant it was time for afternoon tea. "Well dear" her mother said "Dr Bennet has diagnosed Hysteria, he wants you to see a specialist, luckily Dr Bennet is a family friend and has been able to get you an appointment with the best in the field." She babbled, sitting down in her favourite chair. "Don't worry dear, apparently Hysteria is quite treatable and apparently quite common among young unmarried lady's" "Well I hope it is not going to effect my university studies" Emma blurted out "The end of term examinations are coming up" "Ah the tea is ready" Emma's mother said, as Mrs Watchet walked in carrying a big silver platter. Emma was thankful of Mrs Watchet's timing, lest mother start ranting about how useless University was for a young lady and she should devote her time to finding an eligible young man to marry. Heaven for bid she go on about going to debutante balls. "So when do I see this specialist" Emma exclaimed, taking the cup of tea Mrs Watchet offered her. "Your first appointment is this Friday, I expect you to be on your best behaviour too" her mother retorted. "Yes mother, I'm going to the study, I have work to do" Emma got up and left the room for the quiet of the study. The study was a small musty room but it did have a good selection of books, her father had collected from all over the world, during his time in the Army. In the centre of the room was a large oak desk with a red leather desktop. Emma loved this room, it smelled of old books and worldly knowledge. Emma opened her books on the table and sat down to work. She leaned forward looking blankly at the open book and picking at her cuticles, trying to concentrate, she read the same paragraph 3 times. "This is ridiculous" she huffed to her self, going over to the book case and finding Henry Gray's Anatomy of the Human Body. She flipped through the book hoping to find something on Hysteria "This doesn't help, it is all drawings", she closed the book and put it back, and decided to get ready for supper. In his study John was tinkering with a small cylindrical set of clock works. Suddenly it made a twang of breaking metal and springs and cogs shot out in all directions across the room, "Stupid thing!" he exclaimed. But the clockwork just sat there and mocked him. John liked tinkering with things, actually anything that kept him distracted from the mountain of paper work on his desk. He looked at the pile of notes "hmm I need a research assistant" he said picking up a cup of tea and sipping from it "yuck cold, and someone to make the tea" "What you need is a good wife" said a friendly voice from the door. "Dr Bennet, Hello, I didn't hear you come in". "That's ok John how's your research going?" "Slowly" John retorted "Well I just popped over to invite you to dinner Friday night" "Friday, how convenient, that wouldn't be so you can interrogate me about a certain patient of yours?" "Well that may have factored in my thinking, but her father is a very close friend of mine and I promised him I'd look after her whilst he is away at war." Dr Bennet said. "Also I also wanted to come over and tell you the good news, this is rumor only so keep in under your hat, but looks like the Board of Governors is going to approve your research grant." The rest of the week passed slowly for Emma. Then the time came and she found her self sitting in the waiting room, it was quite different to Dr Bennet's waiting room. With it's hard benches and clinical white wash walls. This was more like a sitting room, with comfortable chairs and wallpaper. She was the only person waiting for an appointment, an sat in silence with her mother at her side. She didn't have to wait long before a tall blond nurse came in. "Miss Spencer?" the nurse asked "The Doctor will see you now" Emma slowly got to her feet, her mother was already on her feet and heading to the door when the nurse said, "Just Emma please Mrs Spencer." Her mother sat back down with a huff, Emma managed to hide a smirk thinking she liked this doctor better already. The nurse held the door open for Emma as she entered the room. The examination room was much like Dr Bennet's room. A examination table at one end and the doctors desk at the other end. However the examination table looked quite scary, more like something from a medieval torture chamber than a modern medical apparatus. Emma noticed the young man sitting at the desk, "Surely he is to young to be the doctor he can't be more than 5 years older than me" she though "and handsome as well". "Please take a seat" the Dr pointed to a wooden chair next to his desk "May I call you Emma, you can call me John?" "Yes docto.. er .. John" Emma blurted out as she lowered herself into the chair. John got down to business asking her about her medical history, all the time taking notes. Emma liked that he treated her like an equal and not a silly girl, like Dr Bennet treated her. "Ok Emma, time for the treatment, would you please get undressed" he said pointing to the screen. Emma went behind the screen, she thought it odd that she was to undress behind a screen only for the Dr to examine her without her cloths on anyhow. The nurse helped her take off her dress and petticoat, helping her unlace her bloomers. Emma could hear the doctor scribbling notes from across the room. The nurse then started to unstrap Emma's corset, her mother had strapped it too tight again and she let a breath out of relief as it came off and she could breath again. The nurse directed Emma to the examination table and helped her up. The nurse explained that the examination table was actually a birthing table and was nothing to be afraid of. The nurse helped Emma lay down and strapped her legs into the birthing stirrups. Emma felt odd looking at her legs sticking up the air in a v shape. "Relax Emma and try to breath normally, it may be a little uncomfortable at first, but most patients find it pleasant enough after a while" John remarked. John placed his hands on Emma's lower abdomen and applied some pressure, then he started massaging her pubic mound. He then moved one hand down and started massaging her upper thigh with one hand whilst continuing on her pubic mound with the other. "Breath deeply Emma, relax" he said, as the nurse made deep breathing faces at Emma. Which was more amusing than helpful. The nurse handed John a small bottle of massage oil which he applied to Emma's soft flower like vulva. "That's cold" Emma exclaimed. "Sorry, it will warm up very quickly" John said, as he continued. Emma could feel the heat beginning to develop in her crotch, but was sure it couldn't be all the work of the oil. John then used the web of his hand to rub Emma's love button whilst his thumb gently explored her soft folds. Emma was starting to feel hot, and no longer needed to be told to breath deeply. The nurse then handed John a black stick like - thing - not unlike a cucumber or a bobbies night stick, although it had a bulbous end on it. He gently started rubbing it on her pubic mound, getting it all oily then moving it down to replace his thumb as he used the instrument to explore her soft flower. Gently pushing it in her only a little way at first and taking it out again, gently pushing it a little further and out again. Before long pushing it deep, and removing it again. Emma's was so hot, she needed this so badly, "don't stop" she thought as he pulled it out "hmm" Emma whimpered. John pushed the instrument back into her, rubbing her clit with his thumb, while fucking her with the dildo, in and out. Faster and Faster. Emma could feel a build-up deep with in her, she held it back, clenching her fists into tight balls, clutching the sheet beneath her. Suddenly she couldn't hold on any more, as John fucked her with the instrument, she arched her back and let out an exclamation as she came. John stopped and pulled the instrument out and handed back to the nurse. She lay on the table catching her breath. Emma could feel how hot and wet she was. The nurse came back and lifted her legs out of the brace and helped her sit up. "That went quiet well for your first time Emma, but you require much more treatment, I think your next appointment should be in a fortnight" John said, as the nurse helped dress Emma. "If this is the treatment for Hysteria, I hope I'm never cured" thought Emma with a wicked grin. The first week went by quickly and Emma learned that her father was returning, this pleased her no least of course because it lightened her mothers mood and she was a little more easier to deal with. Emma kept her self busy with her study at the university, and even got good marks in Prof Boswell's natural sciences class. The second week was a little slower and she found herself thinking more and more about her next treatment. The day of the treatment arrived quickly enough. She found herself in the waiting room again, when the nurse welcomed her back and invited her into the examination room. "Take a seat please" John said watching as she lowered her self into the chair, straightening her dress as she sat down. "I have something to discuss with you" "Oh no" she thought nothing starting with 'I have something to discuss with you' ever ends positively at lease in her experience she mused. "You probably haven't heard" he started "but the board of Governors has approved my research grant into new methods for treating female hysteria" he paused "I was wondering if you would consent to being one of the test subjects on the new therapy I'm devising" "oh I guess so" she said a little unsure of what to say. "There is one other thing" he said pausing "I have heard good reports from Prof Boswell regarding your scientific studies, and the thing is; I really need a research assistant, It wouldn't be any thing practical you would just be collating data and helping me write up my findings" he added quickly. Emma paused she wanted to say yes but thought she should at least pretend to think about it before blurting out her acceptance. "I'd be delighted to help" she finally said. "Excellent, well lets get started shall we" he said. Emma retired behind the screen to get dressed. Again the nurse was there to help her take off her dress and petticoat, today she was prepared, she was wearing her most alluring corset, a purple and black lace over-bust corset. She hoped John would notice, she wanted him to think of her as a woman and not just another patient he was treating. The nurse freed her from the corset, unfortunately the opportunity to show off her corsetry had passed. In no time, she was sitting there in her birthday suit, the nurse was strapping her legs into the table. "Before we start" said John walking over to the exam table "I want to show you what the new procedure involves" he had the long black instrument he used last time in his hand, and a different one in the other hand. "This is the dildo that's normally used for hysteria, but I have developed a clock work one, which I call a vibrator" he exclaimed, clearly impressed with his invention. He wound up a key on the base of the vibrator and it made a buzzing, clockwork sound, he handed it to Emma. She nearly dropped it with surprise as it vibrated in her hand, it was quite a strange sensation. "Lets get started" he said taking the vibrator from her. The nurse poured the massage oil on Emma's pubic mound and vulva. John started to massage the area and her inner thighs. Again John's skilled hands teased her sex, gently touching her, he rubbed the oil on her soft folds brushing her love button. Teasing her sex gently inserting a finger then pulling it out, making small circles on her clit with his thumb. He turned the vibrator on and rubbed it on her inner thighs and mound. Slowly rolling it back and forward, he pressed it against her clit. The buzz of the vibrator ignited a fire in Emma's sex, bighting her lip, she wanted it desperately. John finally gave her what she longed for probing the vibrator in to her slowly at first, but building faster and deeper as he went. Emma gripped the mattress tightly closing her eyes, trying to hold the pleasure build up as long as possible. Then the explosion of pleasure was past the point of no return, she arched her back and neck as she came. John pulled the vibrator from her sex. "Good that took half the time as normal" he said clearly pleased with the operation of the vibrator. Emma just lay on the table basking in the residual pleasure running through her body. "Let's get you dressed shall we" said John looking at Emma's nakedness. Emma tried to pretend no to notice the bulge in John's pants. Emma started getting dressed, the nurse laced up her corset. "Shall I see you tomorrow to help with your research" Emma said standing just out from behind the scree, in an effort for John to see her in her lingerie "Oh late afternoon is best for me, and well will continue your treatment on the fortnight as planned" he said looking Emma up and down. Emma finished dressing with the nurses help and left the office. Emma found the research and data work for John wasn't very exciting, but just being with him was enough for her. She still had plenty of time for her University studies and on her way home would help John at his surgery compiling the day's data and writing reports. Then home in time for supper. Again she found her self lying naked on the table John was strapping her legs into the stirrups, but some thing was different the nurse quickly bound Emma's wrists with some black leather straps which were attached to the table with shiny brass buckles. Her heart skipped a beat as she looked to John for support, but he seemed to take no notice. He started massaging her toes and the balls of her feet, he never did that before, why this time she thought. John took great care to massage Emma's legs from the tips of her toes to upper thighs. Only then did the massage continue with It's usual manner with John starting to massage her lower abdomen and mound. The nurse returned with the oil and held the bottle high above Emma's sex letting the oil dripple in a slow stream on to her sex. This time the oil was not cold, it was warm and felt delightful as it dribbled down her sex. The Nurse glanced at Emma with a wicked grin, and slowly dribbled the oil up her abdomen and on to her belly button filling it to overflowing, the warm oil ran down the side of her stomach and dripped onto the clean linen. The nurse didn't stop she dribbled the stream of oil up and onto Emma's bare breasts. The nurse then started massaging Emma's breasts; Emma felt confused and unsure but John didn't say anything he keep teasing Emma's hot wet sex as he watched the nurse. The nurse bent down and started licking and sucking at Emma's nipple. Emma flinched but the restraints held her in place, she couldn't move even if she wanted, but did she? Her nipples were hard and the Nurse looked up with a wicked grin, Emma could see right down the nurses cleavage. But the nurse just went back to kissing and licking Emma's nipples. Emma looked across at John, she could see the bulge growing under his breeches, surely this is not right, but he was busy teasing Emma's clit. Emma felt the heat of her sex calling out for John to use the vibrator. oh how badly did she want that magical wand. Suddenly he dropped his breeches revealing his man hood standing to attention for Emma. He slid his cock in to Emma's sex, pushing deep, filling her. "Ohhhh" she let out an exclamation "Ohhhh" this time louder. Blinking her eyes awake. The darkness of the room closing in around her. The mists of the dream world fading away. "It was a dream" she told herself, staring at the blank ceiling "I hope I wasn't talking in my sleep" she though listening hard for and noise in the house. All she could here was the sound of the beating drum that was her heart. She breathed. Slipping a hand beneath her nighty and between her legs, she was hot and wet, she rubbed her thumb and finger together feeling the slick of her juices between her fingers. Emma lay awake trying to go back to sleep trying to bring the dream back, wanting it to play out, but the dream was gone. Emma never had that dream again, but would often think about it when she was having her treatments with John. She continued her University studies and helped John with his research which seemed to be progressing very well. Then one day when she arrived at the Surgery to help John with a progress report to the Board. She found him in deep discussion with Dr Bennet and her father. She as entered the room and they looked up at her, they all wore serious faces. "I'm afraid" John paused "I'm afraid I can't treat you any more Emma" "What, No, Why not" she blurted out feeling the blood drain from her face and her heart started racing. "You can still be my research assistant, however it would not be appropriate for me to continue treating you" he paused "I have asked your father permission to court you!" Hysteria As he worked my clit, he scowled up at me, and muttered through his teeth, "What will make this happen faster?" I felt two scalding tears squeeze through my lashes under my cold fingertips, and I shook my head wretchedly. I couldn't tell him how to please me. Dr. Walsh answered by applying more pressure against my clit with his broad thumb, until I could feel the bruised little nub throbbing with its own hot pulse. "Answer me," he demanded coldly. I whimpered in humiliation, but made myself form the words. "Squeeze my tits.." "Absolutely not," he returned staunchly. "Try again." I choked back a sob and shuddered -- did I dare ask him? I covered my mouth and cringed as I murmured feebly, "Put something inside me." The sound of the request coming from my lips made me tremble feverishly as I imagined his gloved fist forcing its way inside me, and I clawed my fingers into my hair, frantic with arousal. He turned just a bit, without releasing the pressure on my tortured clitoris, and after a moment, I felt the now familiar dig of the speculum entering me again. I drew a sharp breath, staring down at him as he worked it quickly into me, and began to squeeze the handles. His mouth twisted cruelly on a little smirk. "That's what you want inside you, isn't it?" I shrieked breathily, feeling the instrument spread me open again with a wet, sloppy sound, and I grunted like a sow as his fingers flicked my engorged clit. My back arched as I shoved my hips forward, trying to take the speculum deeper, and I gasped, "Oh lick it -- lick it --" "No." His voice was hard and final. "Then pinch it, doctor, please..." I writhed my hips in a silent plea, and he had to reach to push the hood from my clit and pinch the tender little bud brutally between a strong finger and thumb -- I thought I would die if I couldn't come -- I squeezed my thighs closed around his hand, but he pushed them open again. Then without warning, I felt a finger or thumb from his other hand pushing into my spasming anus, a dry and aching invasion, and I began to convulse helplessly between his hands. He laughed briefly in harsh triumph, his brow gleaming with sweat, and sneered at me as he watched me lose all control under his gaze. "Yes, that's what you like, isn't it? Come on now -- finish it!" I came unabashedly on his exam table, gritting my teeth to keep from screaming as my splayed sex belched in violent pleasure, and the metal speculum rattled in me as loud as a cow bell. I could feel my anus gumming his finger fitfully, and I rose right up to take him as deeply as a could as I felt the last rush of pleasure flood my senses. He took his hands away the instant I was finished, but left the speculum in. To my now painfully sensitive tissues it was an unbearable discomfort, and as soon as I could speak I begged him in a whine to take it out. "Oh, not yet," he grinned derisively, taking tools from his instrument tray and moving between my thighs again. I felt him take a merciless swab of my cervix, and then he drew back, as if in slight revulsion as he made the slide. He didn't look at me. "Get up. Bend over the table." Gingerly, I slid my feet out of the cold stirrups and sat up with a crackle of paper. I tried to peel the sheet from my skin surreptitiously and eyed him warily as he prepared the shot. He looked up at me without amusement and ordered me off the table, flicking the needle with a fingernail so viciously that I shivered and quickly obeyed. I flinched as my toes touched the cold tile, but leaned over the table, glad that I did not have to face him for this. He did not keep me in suspense. Before I had even lowered my head down between my arms, the stringent burn of rubbing alcohol tickled my nose and I felt the impatient swipe of the pad, high on my right hip. He jabbed the needle in without a word, and I shifted uncomfortably as I felt him begin to push the drug into the muscle. I cried out at the burning sensation as he forced it into me, but was cut off with a sharp: "Quiet!" I pressed my open mouth into the flesh of my arm to silence my helpless moans. With a long expulsion of breath, I felt him inject the last of the drug and lean back, the fine needle slipping out of my skin. He tossed it in a sharps container at the foot of the table, and stripped off his gloves. I looked over my shoulder to see his glaring face, dark with frustration. He ran his fingers through his sweaty hair and nodded at me curtly. "Get dressed. And get out." He didn't pull the curtain across this time, but he seemed completely uninterested as I turned around and began pulling on my underwear. He walked to the sink and proceeded to wash his hands very slowly and meticulously, lathering several times as I slid into my skirt and blouse. I wondered if he really found me disgusting, or if it was just an excuse not to look at me again. I stepped into my shoes and looked at his turned back expectantly. The water kept running in the sink, he didn't even turn around, and I opened my lips and ventured hesitantly, "I -- I want to apologize --" "Out!" he turned over his shoulder long enough to bark the command, and the dangerous flash of his eyes told me I had definitely overstayed my welcome. I grabbed my purse and left in a hurry, to cross red-faced through the waiting room, and wonder how much of it they'd heard.