A Lady's Examination: Victorian Medical Erotica by Emma Easterly

Author:Emma Easterly [Easterly, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-10-18T05:00:00+00:00

“Doctor, you have a visitor!” Esther called out from the foyer, her voice ringing melodically.

“A visitor?” he scratched his head and hurried down the stairs. “But I don’t have any appointments for this afternoon…”

He was shocked to see Charlotte standing next to the maid. The lovely young woman looked shockingly beautiful today. To Gregory’s surprise, she wasn’t so buttoned-up. Her dark wavy hair was loosely pulled back, with a few errant curls framing her pale face, and her sunny yellow dress was cut low enough to reveal the curves of her chest. From her rosy cheeks and red lips, he could see that she was healthy; the twinkle in her eye let him know she was in good spirits.

“Charlotte!” he exclaimed, trying to conceal his delight. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Gregory, I felt marvelous after the treatment, but then I had a queer dream last night,” Charlotte said. Her voice trembled slightly.

“A queer dream? Do go on.”

His patient glanced at Esther who, as usual, was curious. The maid was prone to eavesdropping. Gregory would have liked to smack her round bottom and tell her to tidy up elsewhere, but in Charlotte’s presence, he would have to behave himself.

“I would like to speak in private,” Charlotte said. “May we go to your office?”

“Certainly.”

He led her to the small room where he had brought her to climax last week.

She promptly sat down on the bed.

“Doctor, the dream wasn’t about…him.”

“Oh?” Gregory sat down beside her, trying to remain calm. He had been longing to hear about Charlotte’s recovery since that fateful day last week.

“It was about you.”

Her dark eyes stared into his.

“Was this a nightmare?” he asked curiously. “If so, I’m dreadfully sorry…I never meant to frighten you with such an intense treatment…”

“Oh, it wasn’t a nightmare at all. In fact, when I awoke, I found my fingers were between my legs and I was bringing myself to ecstasy, just as you did.”

Charlotte’s timid sweetness was gone. She had just admitted to masturbating, a behavior that society deemed immoral.

“I couldn’t stop myself,” she went on. “I was so afraid that if I stopped, the dream would start again. But in the dream, you were using that awful vibrator on me, holding me down, making me squirm…it was dreadful!”

All the while, Charlotte smiled. Clearly, her dream hadn’t been terrifying. It had been arousing.

“Deliciously dreadful,” Gregory said carefully.

“Gregory,” Charlotte murmured, “I came here today because I want you. I want you and there’s no one I can tell — except for you, of course. The thought of your manhood inside me…sends shivers down my spine…”

“You want me to take your innocence?” he asked in shock.

“You already made me bleed,” she murmured. “The man I marry will be none the wiser.”

In spite of his professional activities, Gregory had always viewed himself as a man of character. Yes, he had stimulated various women to orgasm; on occasion, in his excitement, he had groped their shapely legs or patted their bare bottoms or stared lewdly at their breasts.

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