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Date: 23:34:03 on Thursday, December 01, 2011
Name:  The story teller
Subject: House of Dark Pleasures part 9
* * *
"Don't you think that's better?" Mildred said, smoothly. "I pay very
well and I'm sure my employees would prefer trivial discipline rather than
losing their jobs."
"How--how do you punish them?" Doris asked in a low voice.
Mildred laughed lightly. "It depends upon the occasion." Her eyes
flickered over Doris's shapely figure. "Have you ever been spanked?"
Doris flushed, then murmured, "Only when I was small.
Mildred nodded. "It didn't hurt much, did it? A few light spanks on
the bottom don't hurt anyone--and can do a lot of good. They make you
aware of your mistake and remind you not to make the same error again."
Doris looked confused. "I--I don't know--" she murmured.
"I'm sure you're very conscientious," said Mildred, "but just supposing
you neglected your work for no good reason, wouldn't you prefer to have a
few light slaps on your bare bottom instead of being discharged and having
the headache of finding another job?"
Doris gave a nervous laugh. "I--I've never thought about it," she
admitted. "I don't know how I'd feel!"
Mabel tapped at the door then and entered with two cups of coffee on a
tray.
Mildred patted Doris's hand. "Then don't worry your head thinking about
it now; it'll probably never be necessary. D'you like sugar in your
coffee?"
"Yes, please," said Doris absently, still seeing an image of herself
lying face down on Mrs. Wynton's lap and the woman's hand slapping down on
her exposed, naked bottom. Or would she use a strap or a cane? Her cheeks
flushed at the thought, then to her own surprise, she felt a flicker of
sexual excitement. How would it feel to expose my soft, sensitive bottom
to the eyes of this frightening but fascinating woman? It has been so long
since my daddy spanked me ... How had it felt? How would it feel?
"You're not dunking your coffee," said Mildred.
Doris's flush deepened then she picked up her coffee and sipped at it.
"Not worrying about anything, I hope," said Mildred.
Doris set down her cup. "Why no, Mrs. Wynton nothing at all."
"If you have any problems--any kind of problems--I hope you'll confide
in me," said Mildred. "I'm always ready to help my staff." She smiled,
sipped her coffee, then: "I may seem strict to you, but I'm very loyal to
my staffs long as they're loyal to me."
"I have no problems," said Doris quietly, then she added: "Oh, I've just
remembered, Doctor Marston wants to see me this afternoon--will it be all
right if I take time off?"
"Of course. The doctor mentioned it to me last night." Mildred gave
Doris a searching look. "Just what does he want to see you for?"
Doris shrugged. "I don't know some kind of tests, he said."
Mildred drew in her breath. "I see--the tests--it had to be the tests."
She gave a sharp laugh. "Is something wrong?" Doris looked up.
"No nothing's wrong, Doris," said Mildred, rising to her feet. "It'll
be quite all right for you to take the afternoon off and visit my dear
friend, Doctor Marston." She moved to the door, then said over her
shoulder, "I think two o'clock would be the best time--you know where he
lives?"
"He gave me his card."
"I'll have George drive you over--be ready right after lunch," said
Mildred, leaving the room.
* * *
The big car was waiting outside the manor when Doris ran down the front
steps. Lunch, with Mrs. Wynton and Willis, had been a very quiet affair.
The low-browed young man had kept his beady eyes fixed on her all through
the meal, making childish chuckling sounds to himself as he slopped the
food into his mouth. Like the night before, he had kept groping under the
table until Doris--consumed by a horrible curiosity--had deliberately
dropped her napkin, bent to retrieve it and taken the chance to stare under
the table. With an effort, she had restrained a gasp. Willis's pants were
open again, and his hairy hand was holding his huge organ--so close that
Doris could see the slitted lips in the gross, rounded head of it opening
and closing as he caressed it obscenely just inches away from her legs.
When she straightened herself, Doris's cheeks were pale. The thing is
so huge! She swallowed some food with an effort. It would split a girl
wide open--it would tear my little pussy apart if it thrust into me!
Color came back into Doris's cheeks as she remembered her sensual dream
of the night before after she'd fainted. Was it the thought of this
massive cock which caused me to dream so vividly, orgasm so wildly?
She felt a small moistness at her crotch, and squeezed her thighs
together, tightly, guiltily as though her excitement was visible.
Mrs. Wynton was the only one of the three of them who carried on a
conversation during the meal; Willis was too busy staring at Doris,
squeezing and caressing his cock--and, before the meal was over, reaching
an obscene climax and orgasming a jagged stream of yellow juice onto the
dining room carpet, while he gave breathless, jerky groans--and Doris
herself was too engrossed with her own erotic fantasies to pay much heed to
her employer's words.
Doris was glad when the meal was over and she could hurry up to her
room, prepare herself, then run down to the waiting car and chauffeur.
* * *
"Doctor Marston's," she said to George.
"Yes, Ma'am," he said, politely, adjusting his rear-view mirror so that
he could see Doris's leg and thighs under her short skirt.
The car slid forward smoothly; George's eyes flicked to the mirror.
She's not wearing pantyhose today! He stirred in the driver's seat.
Doris's bare legs and thighs were visible up to her crotch. Skin-tight
silk briefs, white and clinging, and each time she moves her legs I can see
strands of dark hair poking out from under her panties!
George's hand slipped onto his crotch and he felt the hard mass of
muscle there. I'll bet she's got a tight, snug pussy! Unobtrusively, he
squeezed the swollen head of his cock. Unless that bastard, Willis, has
already got into her!
The car turned off the main highway onto a sideroad. Pretty face and
figure--I'll bet her pussy's soft as satin, as tight as a creamy glove!
"Is it far, George?" Doris asked.
He jerked his head, took his hand from his crotch guiltily as Doris slid
to the edge of her seat to speak to him.
"Just a few minutes, Miss," he answered, huskily.
Doris sat back and her skirt stayed dragged up. Her panties are so thin
I can see her dark hairs through them! I always like a girl with a hairy
cant always get a hard, a big hard, when the girl's young and hairy and
wet! I'll bet she's wet and warm inside as juicy a young morsel as I've
ever seen!
He stopped the car outside a remote building that was more like a lodge
than a house.
"We're there, Miss," he told Doris. "Doctor Marston's."
He slid out of the car quickly, opened the door for her then watched her
buttocks work as she minced up the short path to the front door of the
lodge.
Just the sight of her from the back excited him. I'm gonna screw that
sweet pussy as soon as I get the chance, Miss Dainton, he promised himself
and Doris beneath his breath. I wanna fuck that tight cunt before Willis
ruins it with his monstrous, beast-like cock! You better believe me, he
fingered himself through the thick material of his uniform pants, I'm gonna
squirt in your hot, wet pussy!
Doris had rung the bell; now the door was open and George watched her
enter before he got back in the car to wait for her.
* * *
"I'm glad you could come," said Basil Marston, leading Doris into a
small room at the back of the lodge.
Doris looked around her curiously; this wasn't like the doctors' offices
she was used to in the city.
"Is this where you see your patients?" she asked.
Basil hesitated, then: "As a matter of fact, Doris, I'm not practicing
now--kind of retired--I just see patients as a favor to friends."
"Like Mrs. Wynton," said Doris.
He gave her a sharp glance, but her expression was guileless.
"Yes," he said, his voice dry, "like Mildred Wynton."
He stopped at a high, cushion-covered bench that was more like a
masseur's table than the conventional examining couch in most doctors'
offices.
"How did you sleep last night?" he asked quietly.
Doris leaned against the bench. "Fine," she smiled into his face. "I
didn't need to take the pill."
He smiled back at her. "Did you need anything else?"
Doris flushed then dropped her eyes, remembering his words about making
herself come if she wanted to.
"I don't know what you mean," she mumbled.
"Yes, you do," he persisted. "Did you play with yourself before you
went to sleep--did you tickle your clitoris and orgasm after I left you
last night?"
The color in her cheeks deepened. "Yes," she whispered, "I--I had to--I
wanted to so much after--after the--the dream I'd had!"
"That's all right, Doris," he said, his voice warm and understanding.
"You don't need to be shy with me. It's quite natural and
normal--especially for a very highly sexed girl like you."
She lifted her eyes. "Highly sexed?"
He nodded. "Very."
"Am I highly sexed? How do you know that?"
He smiled. "You're shy as well, but I'd believe that you have very
erotic thoughts and feelings--isn't that true?"
She flushed again then frowned. "I don't know, Doctor, really I don't
know."
"But you feel very passionate sometimes, don't you Doris? You feel that
you want some form of sexual outlet?"
"S-sometimes," she admitted.
"That's why I'm going to examine you--find out your sexual threshold."
"W-what!" Her face was shocked, eyes frightened. "Why?"
"I'm doing research. I'm very interested in the extent and intensity of
orgasms."
Doris's mouth dropped open, then she gave a nervous laugh. "Interested
in orgasms--" She laughed again. "I guess you are at that!"
"Scientifically," he said.
"Of course." Her voice was dry.
"Clinical orgasms," he added.
"Yes," she said, "I suppose."
He pointed to the bench. "Will you lie on your back on this couch?"
Doris's face paled and she looked frightened.
Basil took a step closer, wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
"Nothing to be frightened about, Doris. I won't hurt you and you'll find
it a very pleasant examination--very satisfying, I know."
His words bent a little thrill through her body. Just what will he do?
Is he going to make me orgasm? A sensuous ball of expectancy formed in the
pit of her stomach.
"D'you want me to undress?" she whispered.
He looked at her very seriously. "Are you wearing panties?"
She nodded then said, "Of course."
"Then take them off--and, if you're wearing one, your brassiere."
Doris smiled. "I don't need one." She kicked off her shoes then reached
under her skirt, slipped her fingers in the elastic waistband of her briefs
and slid them off.
Slowly, seriously, she handed the tiny briefs to Basil. He dropped them
on a chair, nodded toward the couch and Doris climbed onto it.
She sat on the edge for a moment, looking at his face. "Are you--" she
paused, swallowed, then: "Are you going to climb on top of me?"
He stared at the sheen of dampness on her legs: she was sweating and
excited.
"No," he told her, "I'm not going to climb on top of you; there are
other ways--very enjoyable ways--of bringing you to an orgasm."
She flushed again then leaned back, flattened herself on the couch and
closed her eyes.
Basil stared at the young figure of the girl for a moment, holding his
breath, admiring the upthrust breasts, slim waist and deliciously shaped
legs which stretched down from the hem of the skimpy skirt, then he reached
to the front of her blouse, unbuttoned it and exposed the white, throbbing
breasts.
Doris's eyes opened and her color deepened. "D'you hafta do that?"
He nodded, smiled reassuringly, then drew his fingertip across the
nipple of a breast very gently. Doris stiffened, then the nipple protruded
and hardened.
"Why'd you do that?" she asked in a whisper.
"Testing," he said softly.
She smiled, closed her eyes again.
He moved down the couch. "Open your legs," he urged gently. "Part your
thighs!"
She kept her eyes closed but her legs and thighs parted widely. Basil
raised the short skirt to her waist, bared her thighs, belly and the dark
triangle of hair at the base. He let his eyes rest on the brunette foliage
for a moment, then his gaze went down to the inverted tip of the triangle
and the slight mound with its thin slit down the center and the pouting
vaginal lips on either side.
He reached down, placed a finger on either side of the slit then
stretched it open. The lips curled open, showing pink, wet tissue within;
at the top of the slit, the pea-size clitoris was visible. He touched it
... Doris drew in her breath with a hiss and tiny quivers ran across her
belly.
"Lift up your knees," said Basil softly, "and let them fall apart."
She did as he told her and he watched the vagina ooze open. Bending his
head, he stared up into her vulva then moved his hand lower, opened the
cheeks of her bottom and exposed the anal opening.
He touched the small red star with his fingertip. Doris flinched, drew
in her breath loudly but said nothing.
"Did you ever have anything in there?" he asked her.
"No!" she shot out the word.
"A man never put his penis in your anus?" he persisted.
"No, no, no," she said, sounding angry. "I'd never let a guy stick his
cock in me there!"
"But you yourself," he asked quietly, "didn't you ever touch that little
hole with your finger--when you were playing with yourself--didn't you
ever?"
She twisted her head to one side. "May--maybe just touch is all--"
"Just put your fingertip in very gently?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"And pull it in and out?"
"Maybe--just--just a little!"
"And you enjoyed it?" he asked.
"I--I--" she broke off.
"It increased the thrills," he went on, "while you were teasing your
clitoris with one hand you pushed your finger in and out of your anus and
it heightened the sensation?"
"Oh yes," she breathed, lifting her knees higher as she spoke, "it's
like wild when I do that!"
"You get a thrill at your anus, too?"
"You mean in my bottom?"
"Yes," he said.
"Ohh," she sighed, "all inside my bummie--it feels like on fire--the
thrills run from my pussy to my clit, then shoot out of my bottom--it
shatters right through me, I blast like crazy!"
Basil inserted his fingertip inside her anus, felt the wet, warm walls
hugging it and was aware of the throbbing inside the arousing flesh.
"You'll like this test," he promised her, withdrawing his finger
completely then lightly touching her clitoris. "I'm going to run a very
mild current--a mild electrical current--from your clitoris to your anus."
Doris tensed her body, opened her mouth to voice a protest. Basil
leaned over her face, spoke softly, persuasively. "You're going to orgasm
with more intensity than you ever imagined in your wildest, most erotic
dreams, Doris. You're going on cloud nine and you'll love every sensual
second of your trip!"
"You--you won't hurt?" Her voice was frightened.
"Anything but--" he promised her.
He wheeled the small table beside the couch, and Doris lay still, her
head turned, watching him. That black box with things attached to it,
Doris asked herself, what will it do to my pussy?
There were two cables with small suction cups at the end; Basil attached
them to each of Doris's nipples. The cups fitted over her breasts, holding
them with their own suction, and a spongy pad inside them pressed lightly
on her nipples. The slight contact made her nipples get hard and Doris
breathed hard with excitement, making her breasts rise and fall, but the
movements did not dislodge the rubber cups.
Basil took another cable from the box on top of the wheeled table; the
cable had a slim electrode attached to the end of it. He stretched the
electric cord until it was between Doris's thighs, then, telling her to
raise her knees and part them, he eased open her anus and slid the
electrode inside.
"Hurt?" he asked, solicitously.
"No-no--" she murmured.
"I put cream on it before I inserted it," he told Doris. "Can you feel
it inside you?"
She moved herself a little. "Yes," she told him, "but only just."
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