Boisterousness at the Manor: Baroness
A knock at my door disturbingly snaps me out of my daydream. I glance at the clock and can't help but feel startled. "What is it, Alice?" I ask, my voice betraying a sense of urgency.
"The doctor has arrived, Ma'am." Her reply reverberates around the room, momentarily interrupting my internal musings. "Should I send him into the living room?"
"Yes, send him in," I say, swallowing hard. A sense of anticipation, something akin to dread, and even a hint of excitement fills me as I wait. Days have passed, but it feels like an eternity since I last summoned the courage to seek help.
I can't help but feel my hands tremble as I make my way to the living room, rather uncertain about my reasons for being there. It's as if the weight of the world and the realities of my life have caught up with me.
Upon my arrival, I sit in a red high-backed chair, hands clasped tightly in my lap, wondering what the doctor will make of me. After a few moments, Alice enters with the doctor in tow.
"Doctor Thomas Maxwell, Ma'am." Alice announces, stepping aside to showcase the man who must have heard my cries for help. He's taller than I expected, with long, dark blond hair, spectacles, and a navy blue jacket. His eyes, the color of a spellbinding ocean, are captivating even from a distance.
"Good day, Ma'am," the doctor greets me, visibly unfazed by my admission of his profession. "I've been informed that you called for my services."
I take a deep breath, attempting to steady myself. "Yes, Doctor Maxwell, word of your reputation precedes you. I understand you treat hysteria without the use of the... electric devices?" Again, I blush at the inability to say 'genitals' - and knowing what's to come.
"Precisely, Ma'am," he replies, brimming with a clinical detachment. I wonder whether his calmness is meant to soothe my nerves or if there's something else at play.
"So, Mrs. Redfield suffers from... hysteria?" he asks, offering me an opportunity to correct myself.
"Yes," I confirm, nervous at the realization that my disorder is now as plain as the air before us. AS IF MRS. REDFIELD WASN'T PROPER WOMEN ENOUGH ALREADY, I scold myself, then settle into my chair. My legs wobble slightly as I await his response. "Please enlighten me."
The doctor's demeanor could be construed as either comforting or unsettling. His replicable tone takes me off guard, his eyes piercing right through me. "Well, Ma'am, with accepted methods, stimulating the… carnal regions for an extended period of time would release the excess of feminine energy. Is that what you're looking for?"
My thoughts rush back to me. "Yes, Doctor Maxwell. I will permit it." I pause, my stomach twisting into knots. Oops. There's that word again, "Hysteria".
"Please prepare yourself then, Ma'am," he says as he rolls up his sleeves and approaches me. I can't help but feel uneasy.
"Please lift my skirts," I say, trying to maintain a sense of calm. The fateful moment has arrived, and I must divine what my brutal, distant husband deserves. I sit distractedly, filled with anger and frustration, my husband's leisure activities like golf courses coming to mind.
"Yes, Ma'am. Pardon me while I do this" almost as if he's discussing an orchestral score, Doctor Maxwell brushes away my skirts. I can't help but stare down at him, the multicolored swirls of my dressס conveyed between his legs, my body exposed for a man, a stranger.
I wonder, amidst the cacophony of my feelings, if the doctor is aware of how some of his actions might feel to me. He's methodical and completely in control of the situation - I've never felt this powerless before. It's a disarming dichotomy. Everywhere else in my life, I'm the one who must command, demanding seasonal changes to the garden despite my marquis husband's preference.
The golf course has come to mind once more, a seething rage fueling my chest. Husband or not, he's disappeared for weeks on end, leaving me in an enormous monolith of a palace. I work tirelessly to maintain it, keeping it to his ridiculous standards, all the while he neglects me and my needs. I shut down the negative thoughts as they threaten to overwhelm me. I must stay focused.
"Ready to begin, Ma'am?" The doctor asks, his attention focused on the task at hand.
"Yes, proceed," I say, trying to hide any trace of the embarrassment I feel about laying exposed before him. The doctor's hands are now between my legs and I can feel the pulsing heat that grows with each passing moment. I can't help but think about how this whole sordid affair was a result of my husband's negligent ways. I've always wanted it to be like a proper marriage, but this is infinitely different from what I had in mind - smaller, fundamentally different but grander in its total scope.
I'm uncomfortably aware of the window further behind the doctor. I can see the entire golf course spread out before us, my husband's preferred pastime. My annoyance with him increases tenfold.
"Ma'am, are you ready?" His question serves as a reminder of the task at hand. I'm mistakenly assured. "Please lie back."
I hesitate before complying - then take a deep breath and obey.
"Let's carry on." I gaze at my husband's golf course, my anger simmering. How could he marry me, make me promises, and then give me this, this mind-numbing monotony? My status brings me nothing, my days are spent lounging around the mansion, "overseeing" the tedious decor. I don't have a clue when we got married; the only thing that matters is the seasons. Six years? Seven? Ten? Three?
"Are you okay, ma'am? You seem a bit tense." I hear Dr. Maxwell's voice from below, as he stops massaging my thighs. I'm suddenly annoyed that he's not touching me anymore and I snap, "Keep going, doctor."
"As you wish." He places his hands between my legs, gentle stroking my inner thighs. I take a deep breath. I've never been caressed so tenderly in such a sensitive region. My heart throbs throughout my lower body. Suddenly, he caresses my most intimate part, and I experience an ultra-pleasurable rush, completely different from what I've felt before. Realizing why the Viscountess of Glenstuffordshire recommended this doctor so highly, I struggle to suppress a moan. I'm unsure if I managed well and turn crimson. I glance down at the doctor only to find him focused on his task. I attempt to regain my breath, but it comes out shaky. I sense him separating the folds of my private zone. Unexpectedly, he inserts a finger and I’m overwhelmed with sensations. "How are you doing, ma'am?" I barely manage to regain control and awareness of my body.
"Yeah... just fine..." I'm trying my best to stay composed. "It must be... the hysteria." That must be the reason for my unusual reactions. "Keep at it... doctor."
"Will do, ma'am." He pushes against me and I experience a blissful, otherworldly sensation, amplifying what I felt previously, as he removes his finger. Instantly, I feel empty, my lower body contracting, desperate for more. He sticks another finger inside and, again, I feel this divine, inexplicable pleasure surge from my core, before he retreats rapidly. I fight to keep from moaning.
"Ma'am--" he begins.
"Keep going, doctor. Keep treating me." Remarkably, I'm astonished by my abruptness. It's probably my hysteria rising to the surface. "Keep it up."
"Alright, ma'am." Suddenly, he inserts two fingers inside me, and I feel the intensity surge, more potent than before. My whole body shakes and loses control. I'm unable to manage as I normally would. My hands push them back in by themselves.
I mutter, "Should be okay... just adjusting to the novel sensations." I'm panting rapidly, feeling my heartbeat intensely on his fingers.
"Uh-huh, ma'am. You've done a fabulous job at remaining calm, but you should know that you don't have to. The treatment works best if you relax." My thoughts are: "As if I could ever relax when like this," but his soothing tone calms me down immediately. I can feel my muscles soften, and my breath steadies. There's something about this physician that simply soothes me. "Especially now, it's crucial that you pay attention to your body's reactions and allow them to show."
His words wash away all the tension.
I suddenly realize how tightly I'm gripping the doctor's hands and let go. Luckily, he leaves them there. I put them by my sides and take another deep breath. I decide to trust him, to follow my body's impulses without holding back, as much as I can. "Continue, doctor."
He carries on with the treatment, and I feel like I'm falling through a cloud. I feel my body moving on its own, twitching and shuddering like a beached fish. I've chosen to trust the doctor, to give myself the freedom to move, and I'm thankful for it. I'm not sure if I'd be able to control myself if I tried. His fingers go in and out at a faster pace, and I start moaning. Again, I don't try to stop this, and I'm unsure if I'd be able to if I did. Between my stomach and the part of my body the doctor has occupied, I feel a peculiar pressure build up. As it spreads throughout my lower torso, I put my hands on my breasts and squeeze to spread it out more. I lose a bit of awareness and observe my body pushing forwards into the doctor's fingers, trying to satisfy an intense need to spread this pressure throughout my body.
All of a sudden, I feel like I'm experiencing a performance of Haydn's Symphony no. 94. So far, it's been a prelude to a sudden jolt of indescribable pleasure coming from the doctor's fingers and traveling through my body. My body convulses as if I'm having a seizure, my toes curl, and I'm not sure what sound might come out of my mouth. I've never experienced such physical pleasure like this before; it feels like every muscle in my body is contracting and relaxing at once, like this doctor has filled my vagina not just with his fingers but with that detestable Oriental opium.
After some time, I'm not sure if it was five seconds or five minutes, the pleasure ends. My entire body feels warm, and I'm exhausted. The doctor removes himself from my womanhood and lowers my dress. Suddenly, I'm annoyed, almost angry that he's no longer stimulating me, but I can't find the energy to react.
Suddenly, I hear his voice: "Lady, do you need anything else?" I look at the doctor, the sun catching his hair, making a halo around his face. I feel like I'm looking at God himself. Desperately, I want him back inside me, to treat me again, but I can't bring myself to ask for it.
"No, Doctor, that will be all. Please, remind me of your fee."
"Four guineas, madam."
"Fine, Alice will pay you on your way out." The doctor nods and leaves the room with his case. I look back out at the golf course, its clean, empty, manicured space making me angry at my husband once more, as well as a kind of emptiness in my crotch. "Doctor!" I call out involuntarily.
The doctor rushes back in, concerned. "Yes, madam, something wrong?"
"Ummm... if, umm... my hysteria, were to return..." my mouth goes dry as I try to speak.
The doctor nods seriously. "Yes, madam, it has happened before. If it does happen again, feel free to contact my office anytime. I'm at your service."
I feel like a massive weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. "Thank you, Doctor. You can go." I close my eyes for a nap, and drift off dreaming of doctor Maxwell's next visit.
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