Read The Harlot Bride Online

Authors: Alice Liddell

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Bdsm, #Victorian

The Harlot Bride (3 page)

BOOK: The Harlot Bride
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She drew herself up, obviously offended at his words. He smiled rather odiously.

“I haven’t come to debate the propriety of modern courtship and marriage with you, Miss Farquhar; I’ve come to confirm your maidenhood. For this purpose, I require the complete removal of your drawers and petticoats. Would you be so kind as to proceed before you squander any more of my time?”

She didn’t move, even after he repeated his request.

Doctor Randolph went to the door and opened it. He turned back to her.

“I shall call for your uncle to come up with the maid to hold you down. Think a moment now, girl. Is that what you want? Witnesses to your humiliation?”

This seemed to give Lucy pause. Her defiant look slid slowly from her face.

“I…I…” she stammered.

Doctor Randolph allowed her another moment but when she failed to yield, he sighed in an exaggerated manner and started out the door and towards the stairs.

“I…please!” Lucy called after him, having stepped away from the window towards the door from which he had exited. The physician backed up a few steps, just to the point where they could see one another clearly.

“I..I…Doctor…please come back.”

“Very well,” he said, coming up the last few stairs and into the room. He closed the door with a quiet click. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door, arching one eyebrow to convey that he was waiting and would brook no further nonsense. He motioned with one finger to her skirts and then stood and watched, barely bothering to veil his pleasure, as she reached, at long last, for the hem of her garments. He did so enjoy demanding obedience from a woman, particularly one as handsome and proud as this one.

The girl avoided his eyes as she slipped her hands up under her skirts until her slender arms were completely hidden beneath the folds of cloth. As her hands fiddled unseen for the ties of her petticoats, the doctor admired the view afforded by the partially raised skirts. His tastes in ladies’ under attire were conservative, so he was mildly scandalized to see that Miss Farquhar was wearing pantaloons, an innovation of which he himself did not approve of in the least. But Doctor Randolph’s censure of the garment itself did not prevent him from noting that the brief leggings set off the young woman’s shapely limbs to some advantage, particularly with the lacey hems falling just at the swell of her slender calves. He could see a bit of white stocking above her boot top, and wondered idly if they were tied just above the knee or higher, at mid thigh. Never mind, he thought to himself with a smile, he would find out soon enough.

The girl was bending now, trying to ease down her drawers, an awkward operation given that she must also keep hold of her skirts so as not to reveal any more of her limbs than necessary. It was really quite silly of her, the doctor mused, given what she must know was to follow. But never mind, let her take her medicine sip by sip, if that’s what she preferred. He’d have the full dose down her eventually.

When at last she finished the complicated operation, Lucy stood with a handful of white cotton and lace in her right hand, apparently unable or unwilling to grasp the next step she must take.

“Set those down,” the doctor instructed indulgently. “And get up on your bed with your back against the headboard.”
Lucy blushed deeply, but placed her under things on the chair next to her bed, and then backed herself up against the mattress.
“Go on,” he urged, less kindly, for he was becoming impatient with her stalling.

Lucy proceeded with obvious reluctance, shifting her weight onto one leg so she could make the little scoot necessary to get half her bum upon the high bed, then rocking to the other side so that she was now fully on the edge of the bed. But there she stopped, failing to move along to the headboard as he had instructed. Instead she remained as she was, her head bowed, avoiding the doctor’s eyes at all costs.

“Against the headboard,” he repeated crisply, although he was not in fact surprised that she had failed to comply.
“I object,” the girl said softly but bitterly, her head down.
The doctor sighed.

“You may object all you like, Miss Farquhar, so long as you move yourself so you are seated against the headboard as I have instructed.”

When she did not move, he crossed to the door.
“No!..I…!”
“Then be quick about it, Miss Farquhar! You are trying my patience most sorely.”

This time, Lucy complied. He watched as she shifted back toward the head of the bed, seating herself with her back up rigidly against the headboard and her legs out stiffly in front of her. Even through her skirts it was plain that she was pressing her limbs together in tense desperation. Her face was pale and drawn, and her mouth tight, but her obvious signs of distress didn’t trouble Doctor Randolph in the least.

He regarded her for a moment, considering, then took a sudden step to the bed and seized both limbs by those dainty boots, one broad hand clasped tightly over the soft leather encasing each ankle, and gave a brisk pull, yanking and causing her bum to slide down the bed such that her back was now slumped against the headboard.

“Knees up and open,” he commanded, ignoring the cry that arisen with his sudden move. “And if you raise the slightest additional fuss, I shall remove my belt and thrash you until your thighs and hips are well striped!”

Lucy gasped, her eyes flying to his face, but when she saw the look of determination written there she seemed to lose all courage, and with a sob, raised first one foot and then the other so that the soles of her kid leather boots were now flat on the bed close to her bum.

“Raise your skirts and clear them out of the way,” the doctor ordered impatiently. “Really, Miss Farquhar, is it necessary for me to instruct you every step of the way? It should be quite obvious what you must do for me to complete the examination.”

Lucy’s eyes flashed in fury, and then suddenly there were tears were rolling down her cheeks.

“I..I. won’t!” she insisted. “You can’t make me. He can’t make me. This is unforgivable! She shook her head, her pretty tresses dancing at her shoulders, her chin raised in defiance. Really, she was quite beautiful like that, he thought, a she–cat backed into a corner and quite ready to scratch.

The doctor put his hands to the buckle of his belt.
“I was quite serious when I said I would take my belt to you, Miss Farquhar.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“I would,” he said, his eyes locked on hers, “and with pleasure. I would say you’re long overdue for a proper thrashing.”
She faltered. He could see it, and pressed. He looked at her hard and spoke in a low, firm voice.
“Skirts up, young woman. Clear to your waist.”
Lucy hands were shaking, but she took up the material at her thighs and began to draw her skirts up.

He watched, admiring the white skin and lovely lines of her raised and open limbs as they slowly came into his view. She saw him watching and blushed furiously, turning her face into her right shoulder, away from him, but she did his bidding and brought the skirts up to her waist.

What wicked pleasure it is to induce a woman to open her legs like this, to see those trembling hands clutching desperately at her skirts, to look upon that lovely young face turned away in shame, to spy for the first time the silky dark fluff against the pale soft skin of her lower belly! Ah, lovely. He stood for several moments just enjoying the beauty of it, and of course the sheer satisfaction in having maneuvered her this far.

“I shall require you to part your legs wider, Miss Farquhar, and to slide your bum a bit further down the bed so you are more upon your back.”

The girl did not comply, and when the doctor was able to tear his eyes away from the luscious sight between those lovely white thighs, and look to her face, he saw that she was weeping silently, her eyes screwed so tightly closed that it was a wonder the tears could find their way through. But escape they did, to slide slowly down her pretty pale cheeks.

Doctor Randolph, determining that further words would be wasted with the girl in this state, decided he would simply have to move her himself. In order to do so, he seated himself on the bed next to her, not at all displeased to be in closer proximity, and turned his upper body towards her so that he might slide his hands under her. With deft movements he took a firm but not unkind grasp of her bottom, one soft, round buttock cupped into each of his great palms, and pulled her entire body resolutely towards him until her lower back was flat upon the bed, her upper body propped not against the headboard anymore but upon the cushions that had laid there.

The sight of Miss Farquhar with her skirts and petticoats up, and her thighs bare and open, had already aroused him a fair piece, but the feel of her in his hands made him go rock hard in his trousers. If it should turn out that she was in fact still a virgin, it would be hard to resist the temptation, he knew, to deflower her then and there! And if it should be revealed that she has already known a man or men? Well, one more before she was married off would hardly make a difference, he considered with a smile, giving those plump warm pillows of flesh an entirely unnecessary squeeze. Taking the girl then and there would certainly not be the wisest move in terms of his relationship with his most important patron, but it was a pleasant thought nonetheless.

The girl had made not a sound while he moved her. Her head was still turned away from him, her eyes tightly closed, the distress and mortification was clear upon her features. He moved slightly away, so he could see her better, and then pressed his hands on the inside of her thighs, forcing her knees open yet wider.

“There,” he said to her, certain now that she would not resist him, and ready to proceed with the examination in a manner that would be as pleasant as possible for himself and as humiliating as possible for the young lady.

“Straight limbs and clear skin,” Doctor Randolph intoned, as if he was conducting a teaching examination in the presence of medical students, which was a pleasant idea in and of itself: to have a young lady submit to such an examination with not one pair of masculine eyes intent upon her exposed privates, but many. Ah yes, that would quite an enjoyable experience as well.

“The pudendum appears healthy and is covered lightly with relatively straight, soft hairs in a pleasing reddish brown color,” he continued, watching to see what effect his words might have on Lucy’s face. “It will be necessary to brush said hairs away from the center to better reveal the opening in the flesh.”

With these embarrassing words, Doctor Randolph began to sweep his fingertips lightly over her soft little pubic pelt, petting it open and to the sides until he had a clear view of the slender petals that lay curled up snugly over her slit. The young woman’s body was trembling visibly, adding greatly to the wicked pleasure he was taking in her submission. He now took up those bits of secret flesh into his fingers, first teasing them gently apart, then smoothing them to the sides, until at last he had the little orchid fully open. And while it was not strictly necessary for him to be so thorough, he moved his fingers upward, searching for her little hidden nubbin, and when he found it, he pressed his thumbs gently on either side it, forcing the hood to slide back until the nub within was revealed.

“A healthy, well–formed clitoris, and of fair size at that, quite likely to protrude when engorged,” he said, testing his theory by submitting it to a gentle touch that, while only feather–light, nonetheless caused the girl to stiffen and clench her buttocks most appealingly. How pleasant it would be to have Miss Farquhar in other circumstances, he thought, perhaps with another pretty wench in the room, whom he would put to work between these pretty white thighs, licking and kissing and nipping at Lucy’s pleasure bud until both young ladies were well–juiced and quite beside themselves. While lingering upon this lascivious image, the doctor took up the little nubbin in his fingers, pinching not directly on it but on the flesh on either side of it, squeezing gently and watching in fascination as it slowly grew in both length and breadth, turning a much deeper color. This seemed to have quite an affect on Miss Farquhar, who was wiggling about despite her obvious attempts to show no movement. When he at last let go of her, allowing the now engorged lips to fall back into place, she slumped back down against the bed, her breathing most ragged and laboured.

“You see? It’s just as I said. There it stays, peeping out quite lasciviously,” the doctor observed aloud, entirely for his victim’s embarrassment. “I’m afraid you have a very naughty little nubbin, Miss Farquhar. You realize, I am sure, that I am obliged to report that to his Lordship. I’m quite certain he’ll want to punish it for this unseemly behaviour just now.

“And what’s this?” He trailed the tip of one finger lower. “Is that pleasure dew I feel, Miss Farquhar? If so, you’re a very naughty young lady indeed. I’m afraid this requires a closer look.” And he did look, peer, actually, eliciting, at last, a whimper from the hitherto stubbornly silent young miss.

“Yes, indeed, you’ve gone quite moist, Miss Farquhar. I really ought to spank your bottom for this, you know, and if you were mine to discipline as I pleased, I’d do just that, and make a good, thorough job of it. And afterwards I’d require you to stand in the corner with your nose against the wall, skirts well up with your red bottom fully displayed to anyone who might happen to pass by. I imagine that would teach a naughty girl to take pleasure in a medical examination.

“But,” the doctor continued with an exaggerated sigh, “perhaps it is best if we simply proceed. Do try to behave yourself, as I am going to open you now to determine whether your maidenhead is intact, and I shouldn’t appreciate it to have a great trampish creaming obscuring my view. I shall try not to cause you any pain, but you may feel a bit of discomfort.

“Raise your knees up towards your chest, Miss Farquhar – no, no, keep them open, as they were, but raise your feet off the bed and pull your thighs back towards your bosom. Yes, that’s right. Now maintain that position, if you please, Miss Farquhar, while I examine you.”

BOOK: The Harlot Bride
10.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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