Lucy and the Doctors (8 page)

“Benedict,” he said. “Do you think we’re doing the right thing? With Lucy?”

“The right thing?” Dr. Crane. “Can you even doubt it? She would have died in that place, Thom.”

Thomas held up his hands. “No, Benedict. I’m not talking about getting her out of St. Bart’s. I’m talking about, well, how we’re keeping her. Having her here, as our ward. I fear that she’s becoming too fond of the situation.”

Benedict Crane leaned back in his chair, eyeing his friend. “And why shouldn’t she be fond of it? She asked for a return to a childlike state. It’s allowing her a base from which to spring.” He paused. “Are you sure your fears are not so much for
your
attachment, rather than hers?”

“Nonsense!” Thomas Allard stood suddenly and walked a few steps before turning back. “If anything, I’m the more pragmatic of the two. True, we’ve both taken a paternal role with Lucy, but I’m the one guiding her, teaching her, telling her about the outside world. And what do you do, Ben?” He pointed angrily toward the door. “You play with her, for God’s sake! Or do you think I am oblivious to your little games of hide and seek. Do you realize I found Lucy tucked into the dumbwaiter yesterday, giggling? When I asked what she was doing there, she said you were looking for her! The two of you are always about some silly nonsense. And you dare to question
my
attachment?”

It was Benedict’s shocked expression that made Thomas realize he was doing something he never did—raising his voice. He instantly fell quiet and took a deep breath as he ran his hand through his thick sandy hair. Walking back to the chair, he sat down with a sigh.

“I’m sorry, Ben,” he said. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“I do.” Dr. Crane’s tone was sympathetic. “You care for her, just as I do. We may be men of science, Thom, but we still have hearts. And how could we not lose them to so beautiful a girl?”

Thomas tapped his fingers on the chair arm and shook his head. “But how can we afford to? We took her in as a study subject. It’s unethical.”

Benedict nodded. “Only if we let it get out of control. I believe if we deny our feelings, it will only make it worse. What we feel—all three of us—is to be expected. But that doesn’t mean we can’t do what we promised Lucy, which is to give her the safety of paternal care until she’s strong enough to move on.”

“She says she doesn’t want to.”

Benedict brushed Thomas’ comment off with a wave of his hand. “She’s allowing herself the luxury of being childish. She doesn’t mean it. Not really. She’ll be ready to move on soon enough, and we’ll quietly guide her into an adult life. It’ll hurt like hell to see her walk away, but when we do it will be with the satisfaction of knowing we saved her, and gave her a future with someone who will love her.”

Thomas swallowed hard.
A future with someone who will love her.
He’d always been the reasonable one, and here was Benedict assuming that mantle as he sat feeling like a lovesick schoolboy. He wanted to tell his friend and colleague that no one could love Lucy as much as he did. But he knew to say so would be to violate the pact they’d made as doctors and researchers. She was their ward, their patient, their subject. His friend was right.

“Thank you,” he said, standing. “Sometimes it takes a more reasoned perspective to help one see things in a proper light.”

Benedict laughed at this. “That’s a first, me being the reasoned one.” He stood and walked over to clap his friend on the shoulder. “Why don’t you go for a walk? I’ll go check on Lucy. The fresh air will do you good.”

“Thanks, Ben.” Thomas reached for the coat by the door and pulled it on. “I left her in the parlor with orders to stay put. I’ll be back soon.”

Benedict watched his friend go, wondering how he’d managed to sound so sensible when he was suffering from the same affliction where Lucy was concerned. He tried to remain emotionally detached, but the truth was, he could no longer imagine life without the sweet blonde with the sea green eyes that lit up when she saw him. She was perfectly adapted for life as their ward, and he’d not been surprised that she didn’t want it to end. But Thomas was right; it would have to. But not today. Today he would go to the parlor and spend the afternoon reading with her or playing whatever silly game her child’s heart desired. He was looking quite forward to it, so it was with disappointment and confusion that he discovered that she was not where Thomas had left her.

He checked the study next; Lucy was fond of books, and of late had taken to curling up in an overstuffed chair with a thick volume filled with descriptions of birds native to the British Isles. But she wasn’t there, either.

After checking the kitchen, he went upstairs. At first he only heard the ticking of the grandfather clock at the end of the hall, but as he approached her room he heard something else. It sounded at first like she was crying, and Benedict hurried to her door. Usually he knocked, but concerned for her state, he opened it without warning.

What he saw stopped him in his tracks. Sweet little Lucy lay on her bed. Her head was to the side, and one arm was thrown across a face scrunched in passionate concentration. Her legs were spread, her bare pussy exposed to fingers working the slick folds and clit feverishly. He could not look away, and gripped the door, causing it to squeak on its hinges. Only then did Lucy look up and cry out, surprised and devastated to be caught pleasuring herself so boldly.

Chapter Eight: Lucy’s Secret

When Lucy was twelve, she’d been caught eating berries Mrs. Priven had intended to use for a pie. The kindly woman had not told Lucy she could not eat the berries, but their intended purpose was obvious from where they sat next to a sack of flour, three eggs, and a pitcher of milk. And the look of disappointment on the older woman’s face had filled her charge with an acute sense of shame.

That feeling was nothing compared to what Lucy felt when she looked up to see Dr. Crane standing in the doorway. She scrambled to sitting, her breath coming in gasps as she struggled to recover from the shock. How could he be there? He was in his office! Dr. Allard had said so, and had gone to join him. She was supposed to have an hour alone.

“Doctor…” It was the only word she could get out, for it was supposed to be the beginning of an explanation she couldn’t give. And what was she supposed to tell him, anyway? The truth? That she’d been touching herself to the memory of the examination and spanking she’d received?

“Lucy…” Dr. Crane sighed and shut the door. Lucy smoothed the skirt over her legs as he approached. She realized as she did that her fingers were still wet with her arousal. She balled her hands into fists and stared at them, too ashamed to look at her guardian. Lucy continued to keep her eyes lowered, even when she felt the edge of the bed sag as he gently sat down by her lower legs.

“Look at me,” Benedict Crane said. When she refused, he repeated the command with more force, and she complied, turning glistening green eyes up to his. “You were touching yourself,” he said.

She nodded, sniffling.

“Is this the first time?”

Lucy flushed scarlet. He was leading with the one question she feared the most. She did not want to answer, but was suddenly afraid that if she refused, she may be punished with a spanking. Even now the mere thought of being held helpless over his knee, her bottom bared as his hand rained down stinging smacks on her vulnerable cheeks, filled her with a conflicting combination of dread and carnal excitement.

She shook her head. “No, sir.” Her answer was barely audible.

Dr. Crane was quiet for a moment. “How many times have you… done this?”

She raised her knees now, hugging them to her as she summoned the courage to answer. “I do it almost every night.”

“Every night?” His tone was edged with disbelief.

She nodded, looking up at him now. Her eyes were so innocent as she continued her shocking revelation. “Sometimes more than once.”

He stood. “Lucy…”

She began to cry. “You’re going to send me away, aren’t you?”

“No…” He knelt down by the bed. “No. I’m not. We’re not. But… I want you to sit here and wait while I go get Dr. Allard. You are not to move, and you will obey me in this. Understand?”

She nodded, frightened now by the vehemence in his voice. “Am I in trouble?”

“No,” he said with a reassuring tone. “And you won’t be so long as you obey, understand?”

Lucy nodded earnestly and watched as he hurried from the room, leaving her alone. Despite his telling her she wasn’t in trouble, she couldn’t help but to worry and she reached for a stuffed bear that Dr. Crane had gotten her a week earlier. Hugging it to her, she rocked back and forth on the bed, wondering if perhaps she was wrong to have been so honest. For the briefest moment, she’d thought to lie. But her doctor guardians had done so very much for her. How could she?

When Benedict Crane walked back into the room with a puzzled-looking Thomas Allard just behind him, she faced the men with deep trepidation as she looked from one handsome face to the other.

“You’re terribly disappointed in me,” she said.

“No.” Dr. Allard pulled a chair over to her bedside and sat down. “Not disappointed, but quite concerned. Did you misspeak when you told Dr. Crane that you engage in this activity not just daily but more than once a day?”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, a tear slipping from her eye to trace its way down her fair cheek. “I can’t help it.”

“Can you tell us what precipitates the… need for this?” he asked.

She looked from one man to the other. “Oh, I fear if I do tell you then you will most definitely send me away. Must I continue? I’m tired. I need to nap.” She felt a surge of panic now.

What have I done?

“Lucy.” Dr. Crane knelt down and clasped her hands. “You must answer. Please. I know you’re embarrassed and afraid, but trust me when I tell you that our questions are for your own good. Answer Dr. Allard, little one. What desires have you that are so strong you must do this so often?”

She closed her eyes, not wanting to look at either man when she answered. “My desire for the two of you,” she said in a rush. “My thoughts of you.”

“When did they start?” Dr. Crane asked.

“After… after the day you and Dr. Allard examined me,” came the soft reply. “And spanked me.”

“And what is it you think on when you touch yourself, Lucy?”

She flushed before forcing herself to answer. “I think about how helpless I felt over your lap.” She looked shyly up at Thomas. “And how you touched my breasts, how good it felt. And how you touched me between my legs. It was like my body had been sleeping and you woke it, woke a hunger in it. Oh, the sensations—even the painful burning of my bottom from the spanking and the shot. I think on them as well.” She paused, closing her eyes. “I tried to ignore the feelings. I do not know what a woman is supposed to feel. You have both told me I would one day crave a husband’s touch, but I know in my heart I can only crave a man who touches me the way the two of you do. And I don’t think…” She faltered now, twisting her little hands in the coverlet.

“Go on,” Benedict Crane said gently.

“I don’t think any man could ever make me want him the way I want you.” She turned desperate now in tone, speaking hurriedly. “I’ve tried to be good. I’ve tried to think of another man—some faceless man to call husband, touching me. But each time it is your faces I see.” She turned again to Thomas. “Your serious one, always so concerned, and thoughtful.” Then to Benedict: “And yours, always with that kind, playful smile.”

The room fell quiet. Lucy had bared her heart completely, and she felt she had nothing to lose by continuing. “Mrs. Priven said there is one man for one woman, and told me the day I left that God was delivering me to that man, and that he would teach me all I needed to know about what it means to be a woman. It turned out that man was a monster who tried to hurt me. I still am none the wiser. I am still ignorant of what goes on between a man and a woman. I only know that whatever it is, I want it to be with someone I love.” She looked from one guardian to the other with earnest eyes. “The only thing I do know is that I love both of you.”

“Oh, Lucy…” Thomas began. “You don’t know what…”

“…what I’m saying? But I do!” She felt herself becoming agitated. “I live as a child under your good graces. But I am a woman still. I realize this. A woman living as a child. The child in me loves you as my father figures. The woman in me loves you as something deeper.” Her voice became ragged with sobs now. “Is it really so wrong to want both?” She was sobbing hysterically now. “I want to sleep. I cannot bear this!”

Dr. Crane moved to the bed and pulled her into his arms. “Sssh…” he said, and Lucy allowed herself to be nestled in his arms as he nodded wordlessly to Dr. Allard, who left the room. When he returned a few moments later, it was with a syringe. This time Lucy did not fight as her handsome blond guardian lifted her dress. She did whimper as the panels of her pantalets were parted to reveal the perfect globes of her bottom. When the pinch of the needle came, she cried out from both pain and pleasure, eager to accept the care of the men who held and towered over her. How could she get them to understand that she craved the helpless feeling of being their little one? How could she explain it when she didn’t entirely understand it herself?

She was feeling languid now, and nestled into Dr. Crane’s arms. As she began to drift off, Dr. Allard sat down and wrapped his arm around her as well. She felt complete happiness then, even though she didn’t know how long it would last.

* * *

It was just a light sedative—enough for a very short sleep. Both men sat with her while she slumbered. She was just beginning to stir a little when Benedict stood, gently removing his gentle grasp and laying their charge on the bed as Thomas fetched a quilt from the chest at the foot to cover her. They were silent as they moved downstairs to the parlor, where Benedict poured them a drink—a rare indulgence on a weekday evening—before the two men sat down facing one another.