Chosen by the Doctor Page 4
She glanced up at the suggestion.
“I disciplined you earlier because you were losing control of your temper. A woman of your circumstances must stay in control of her faculties at all times. That is one of the reasons I’ve brought you here. Now, have no doubt, I will use any means necessary to correct your behavior. But by the time you are done here at Renshaw house, you will be a woman to be reckoned with. About that, I give you my word.”
For the first time since I’d met her earlier that day, I saw confidence flash through her eyes. Just briefly. An instant, no more, but it was there. It was what I lived for and why I dedicated myself to young women like Tennie. To see them emerge into a difficult world, stronger than when I’d first found them.
“Why?” she asked quietly, after a time.
“Why? Why what?”
“Why do you do this?”
The simplicity and honesty of her question was disarming. None of the other young women had ever ventured to ask anything of the sort, or anything personal of me for that matter. For a moment I was lost for words.
“That’s my own business, Tennie,” I replied, wishing I could have given her more insight.
She seemed disappointed by the answer and for some reason that made me want to tell her more. For a brief moment I felt some long closed part of myself open. It was a warm feeling. One I hadn’t felt in a long time. I quickly swung it shut.
When I looked at her again, it was to see that she was looking at me. She held my gaze and didn’t turn away. I’d worried that my insufficient explanation would scare her from asking more questions, or opening up. It seemed to have the opposite effect. She stared at me with her deep blue eyes, as if she were searching for something in mine. Even when it began to feel uncomfortable, to be staring at a strange young woman for such a long time, she didn’t look away and neither did I.
She finally broke our stare.
It took me a moment to find myself again. I cleared my throat.
“Now that you are done with your dinner, Tennie, we have some business to attend.”
“Business, sir?”
“I insist that all young ladies that come into my care submit to a full examination upon their arrival.”
“Examination, sir?”
“Yes. I am as much in charge of your health and well-being as I am of your good upbringing and I intend to do my duty in both. Were you seen by a doctor? At the orphanage?”
I saw her cheeks flush red. She continued staring down as she shook her head.
“In that case I will have Mrs. Gibbins get you ready in my examination room.”
“But… what for?” she asked, her expression frightened and pleading.
“It’s for your own good, Tennie. It won’t take long. I merely mean to make sure you are in good health.”
I watched as defiance clouded her expression but she pushed past it. I was proud of her already, for doing that.
“Mrs. Gibbins?” I called into the kitchen. She came trundling in.
“Yes, Doctor?”
“Kindly take our guest to my examination room and prepare her. I will be there presently.”
I watched Mrs. Gibbins take the girl by the arm and escort her out of the room. I felt a warmth fill me at the good deed I was doing. This would no doubt be my best and most difficult work yet. I was certain the reward would be well worth the effort.
Chapter Seven
Tennie
I hadn’t known what to expect from all of this, but I certainly hadn’t expected my current situation. As Mrs. Gibbins stood before me, her arms crossed, I had no idea what to do. I felt a bit like an animal must feel, cornered and ready to fight.
“Now, dear girl, I won’t ask again!” Mrs. Gibbins snapped, wagging her finger at me. “The doctor asked that I have you ready for his inspection when he comes in and I aim to do just that whether you like it or not! Now turn around so that I may help you with your dress!”
I could only shake my head. This seemed to make the woman change her tack as her expression softened.
“Why on earth not?” she pleaded.
What was I to say? That I was too embarrassed, too ashamed of a man like Dr. Renshaw touching me in places I’d barely looked at? It was one thing to sneak a kiss with a boy in a back alley somewhere; this was quite another. I glanced at the table that had strange-looking metal rings attached to it and my imagination began to run wild.
“Very well,” the portly woman said as she stepped toward me.
My instincts kicked in and a shot of nerves made me burst into motion as I tried to run to one side of her. But her reflexes were lightning fast. Before I could protest she had me by the arm and was dragging me toward the table.
I had no idea how she meant to keep me there, I could only guess that she might try to tie me down. So I began to plan how I would move, how I would wriggle out of her grasp. It turned out that was not her intention at all.
A shameful dread took hold of me as I felt my skirts being lifted again. I knew what was coming before it hit me and it made me all the more embarrassed. Once again my drawers were yanked down and my bottom bared.
The first painful slap echoed loudly through the sparse room. I cringed. I did not know a woman who could spank like that. Another slap on my other cheek made me yelp. Her palm felt almost as hard as a hairbrush and I knew I could not endure much more of this.
To add to my distress, once again I felt the uncomfortable feeling of a wetness beginning between my legs. Another crack. More pain rushing through me, only to settle somewhere in my core as a deep and throbbing need.
“Please! I’ll behave!” I shouted finally. It seemed to appease her and she relented, still holding me against the table. I heard the door open behind us.
“Mrs. Gibbins?” came the doctor’s low voice.
“I’m sorry, Doctor,” came her reply. She sounded suddenly quite apologetic.
“Is there a problem?” he asked, stepping toward us.
Suddenly I became even more aware of the moisture seeping from me as I felt a trickle of it run down my leg. He stopped. My face burned with shame. I was sure that they were both staring at my exposed sex.
“She would not let me undress her, Doctor. That is the reason for the delay.”
A moment of silence, followed by a thoughtful, “Hmmm. Very well. I see you have things under control. Carry on.”
And then I felt the back of my dress being unbuttoned. She pulled the top of it away, then removed my chemise, exposing my breasts. I was naked from the waist down. I looked down to see my pink nipples standing stiff.
“Now turn around.”
I took a breath. There was no use resisting unless I wanted another spanking. With the number I’d already received, I doubted I could take much more punishment. Trying to cover my exposed breasts with my arms, I turned around.
“Now don’t be silly, child. He’s a doctor. There’s no need to be ashamed.” With that, Mrs. Gibbins pulled my arms down to my sides, revealing my breasts to both of them.
I glanced up to where Dr. Renshaw was washing his hands. He wasn’t looking at me, which should have been a relief. But something strange began to happen within me. As he was standing there, concentrating on washing his hands, I wanted him to look at me. I wanted to feel the heat of his gaze on my body, despite how ashamed it would make me. I craved it and there was nothing I could do, it seemed, to change that fact.
Mrs. Gibbins undid the buttons that held my skirt in place and that, too, fell to the floor around my ankles along with my undergarments.
Again, my instinct made me cower and try to cover myself but a quick swat on my rear cheek from the woman as she stepped down to pick up my clothes made me straighten right away, even taller than I’d been standing before. At that moment, the doctor turned to face me.
For some reason, I couldn’t tear my eyes from his expression. It was only a moment but I saw his own eyes widen. He caught my gaze and almost immediately looked to one side as he approached
. With each step he took closer toward me, the ache in my middle grew.
“Will that be all, Doctor?”
“Hm? Ah, yes, Mrs. Gibbins. I will be fine from here. You are relieved for the evening.”
“Very well. Good evening then.”
“Yes,” the doctor replied. “Good night.”
The sound of the latch closing in the door seemed to punctuate the fact that we were suddenly alone. From the corner of my eye, I saw his eyes rake up and down my body. It didn’t look to be the kind of stare a doctor would give a patient at all.
“Well then, Tennie,” he said finally in a low voice. “Up onto the table you go.” As he spoke, he stepped toward me, making me stumble backwards until I felt the cold metal of the table on my bottom. “Come now,” he added. “Step up.”
I scrambled up and onto the table and a moment later his hand was high on my chest, pushing me backwards until I had no choice but to lie down.
There was only a very thin sheet laid down on the table and the cold made me gasp. Suddenly, he was standing above me, stethoscope in hand, pressing it to my chest. He stood there for a while, listening to the sound my heart made before asking me to take a breath.
I did and with each breath he moved the instrument around my chest. I stole a glance down to see his fingers so close to my breast and I wondered whether he could tell what my stiff nipples meant. I wondered again if he’d seen the telltale moisture in between my legs.
“Now, I’ll need your feet up for the next part,” he said softly, walking back and setting his stethoscope down.
“Feet up?” I asked, not sure of what he meant.
“Yes, Tennie,” he replied, turning around. “In the stirrups, please?”
My stomach twisted into a knot at the realization that he meant to examine me there, in the place I’d just been thinking about. There would be no hiding my arousal now, I knew it. He would plainly see that I was wet at my womanhood. And what would I say if he asked me why?!
“Now Tennie,” he said, stepping toward me again. “I will not hesitate to use the same methods Mrs. Gibbins did to get you to comply and I see that your bottom is already quite red. There is no need for this bashfulness. This is a standard procedure and you will submit to it. Is that understood?”
The tone in his voice left absolutely no room for argument and I knew then what I must do. Taking a breath and biting my lip to keep myself from crying, I raised first one foot, then the other into the stirrups, trying my best to keep my thighs close together.
The doctor put his hand on my knees and I dared not resist when he pulled my legs apart. I turned my head to one side and fought back tears as his eyes came to rest on my sex, which I knew to be soaked. For a moment he said nothing.
“Is this what you were worried about? Is this what’s had you ashamed, Tennie?” he asked.
Without turning to look at him, I nodded, my face now burning red as he stepped even closer between my legs.
There was an electricity rushing through my body at the anticipation of his touch. I’d never been so scared about how I would react to something in my entire life. A part of me wanted a hole to open in the floor so I could crawl into it and never look at him again. Another part, a part much larger and in the fore, made my whole attention seem to focus on his coming touch. When he spoke again, his voice was deep and soothing.
“You see, Tennie, the arousal instinct is quite a natural reaction in a young woman when faced with difficult or new circumstances. You’ve had a lot of changes happen in your life today. You can rest assured that as a doctor, I understand it.”
I turned to see him looking straight at me. Our eyes met. My mouth opened and for a moment I wondered if all of what I was thinking would come out.
It’s not that. It’s not that I’m scared or confused. It’s that I want to feel your touch.
But I could say none of that because the next instant his strong fingers were pressed against my wet slit. We were still staring at each other when I let out a primal moan. My face flushed in embarrassment at the unbidden sound. And then his fingers were running up my wetness until they settled on the taut nub of flesh where everything felt wonderful and warm.
I couldn’t believe what he was doing. Surely this wasn’t part of the examination? I meant to protest, but when his fingers started gently moving over the area I felt powerless to do anything.
My back arched up and off the table as pleasure flooded through me, leaving me writhing and moaning on his hand. He pressed into me more firmly and suddenly the ache inside me swelled. I couldn’t believe what was happening as I felt a climax start to well inside me.
“That’s it, Tennie,” he growled, his dark gaze still boring deep into mine. “Take your release and come.”
The sudden, unexpected command served exactly the purpose for which it was meant. With one powerful and tremendous shudder, the wave of climax swept under me and lifted me up toward the sky.
Never had I felt such a sensation. I screamed as fierce convulsions shook my whole body. I watched my thighs swinging side to side around his body as my insides tightened and released over and over and over again. And in the background of all those feelings was the unrelenting pressure, the steady, even rhythm of the doctor’s powerful hand playing with my pussy.
The pleasure had a long tail and even after he’d stopped touching me, a shudder of it would ripple through my body now and again. I had no idea what to make of any of this, but what he’d made me feel had incapacitated me completely. I felt as if, even if I’d wanted to, I could not act. I was at the doctor’s whim.
“Now that you’ve relaxed,” he said, finally stepping toward me again. I saw a thermometer in his hand. “You’ll find all of this much easier.”
I whimpered slightly as he parted my legs. I saw the thermometer had been coated with a substance, obviously to help with easing it in. I’d never had such an examination. I knew I could not resist.
I groaned as he pressed it against the tight ring of my anus.
“That’s it. Just stay relaxed.” He pushed it into me. Slowly, I felt it spreading my untouched hole apart. I groaned again.
Yet even as he held it inside me, I felt my arousal coming again. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe deeply, tried to make the feeling go away, but it wouldn’t. I was suddenly wet again and I knew he could see it all, standing where he was.
He pulled the thermometer out of my bottom just as slowly as he’d put it in. I felt every inch of it and I was embarrassed that it felt… good. He turned it toward the light to look at it.
“Very good. Your temperature is in order,” he said. Then I felt his fingers pressing against the soft folds between my legs again. I bit my lip to avoid a gasp. He pushed into me slightly, stretching me more than I’d ever been stretched with his firm fingers. I felt him come up against resistance.
“You are intact,” he stated without emotion. As if he were taking notes.
When he pulled his fingers away, I felt such a tremendous emptiness and ache where he’d been touching me, I almost moaned again.
The doctor stepped away. He picked up a clipboard and began to write on it with his pen. When he stepped toward me once more, it was to one side.
Putting the clipboard down, he raised his hands above my chest. As they settled on my breasts, I felt as if my insides might turn to liquid. Feeling those strong, capable hands touching my breasts, kneading them gently, was a feeling I never wanted to stop. And then they were gone. He picked up the clipboard and wrote on it some more.
“Very well, Tennie. You’ve done very well. You may put your clothes back on.”
I raised myself from the table, stepped off of it and shuffled to where Mrs. Gibbins had lain out my clothes. He waited until I’d finished putting them on. When I turned around, he was looking at me again.
“Tennie?”
“Yes, Doctor?”
“There’s just one more thing.”
“One more thing?” I asked.
 
; “Yes. I have some rules.”
Chapter Eight
Tennie
There was only one rule to speak of, really. Perhaps Dr. Renshaw cushioned it among others so it did not seem as important as it would all on its own.
Do not go down the basement stairs.
That is the one that stuck out from all the others. The others were about mealtimes, which plants to be careful with in the garden, and when Mrs. Gibbins would be turning down the beds. But that one rule about the stairs, I knew to be the most important one. And so, as I lay on my back on a much more comfortable mattress than I’d ever lain on my entire life, I stared up at the ceiling, rolling that particular rule over and over in my head and trying to come up with the reasons behind it.
Was that where all the other girls had gone? Perhaps the quiet-spoken, well-mannered, and handsome Dr. Renshaw was in fact a madman? Perhaps, after teaching girls to play music and do maths and reading with them (the thought made my stomach knot), he would lead them down to the basement where they would be kept on starvation rations until they died?
Or perhaps he killed them outright and that’s where the bodies were?
For a brief moment I allowed myself to entertain the notion that perhaps Dr. Renshaw, a man of obviously independent means to be able to devote his time to such things as teaching girls from the orphanage, had some business matters that he didn’t want nosy young women knowing about and that’s where he kept them. In the basement? But that possibility was not nearly thrilling enough and so I quickly resumed my speculations as to what other dark secrets he might be hiding there.
Every once in a while, the thought of reading and writing would twist through my mind and make my stomach knot. Reading and writing. What would he do when he found out? What would he say? Would he throw me out? Would he laugh that a girl my age didn’t know how? Surely he’d never come across anyone like me in his life? Or worse yet than laughter, would he not know what to say at all? Would an awkward silence hang between us while Dr. Renshaw thought about how to react? I could feel my face burning about it already in the darkness.