A Proper Lady Ch. 02

"Good, keep her in place now," said Dr. Roland.

Elizabeth struggled even harder, stopping only when the doctor approached to stand before her naked frame. Her heart pounded in her chest as he pressed the cold surface of a stethoscope up against her skin. Oh, how she longed to reach down and cover herself up. Stuck in her current situation though, there was little she could do but stand there as her nipples hardened into tiny points on her chest.

"Heart rate above average," said Dr. Roland.

He moved the stethoscope to the other side to listen to her lungs.

"Breathing is fluid and sharp," he said, "No congestion, though I hadn't suspected that to be a risk."

More inspections followed as the doctor moved over the other parts of her body, examining her everywhere except the one place where she yearned for it the most. Halfway, he stopped only to shine a small light into her eyes and the back of her throat. Despite the initial humiliation of being molested in such a way however, as the minutes passed on by, her pulse slowly started to return to a normal state. There were only so many ways the doctor could touch her after all before the novelty of it faded away.

The same couldn't be said for the other members of the room though, and looking up, Elizabeth blinked in surprise. Standing in front of her and a little way to the side, Thomas watched with his mouth wide open, looking like he had forgotten how to breathe. Or at least that was the best way she could describe it. His face was red, and his hands were clasped together over the front of his pants as if there was something underneath that he was trying to hide.

"You're really pretty," said Thomas, all at once.

The compliment surprised her, and Elizabeth blushed harder than she would have thought possible. The whispering behind her increased along with a few titillating whistles as she struggled to think of something to say.

"Thank you," she finally managed to get out.

Thomas blushed as well, his face turning bright red as he hunched over slightly in response to her words. It would have been quite endearing as well, had Dr. Roland not chosen at that exact moment to bend her over and spread open her cheeks. Elizabeth winced as she felt him tap a finger up against the tightness of her backdoor. Then, there was the cold touch of something slippery as the doctor gathered up a generous amount of lubrication, and he pushed his finger down against her ring. Pressing down until the knuckles of his hand brushed up against the curve of her rear, he twisted his finger around a few times inside. Elizabeth gasped as her hips jerked in response.

"Ohhh..."

The walls of her rectum clenching down against the intrusion, and in front of her, Thomas squeezed his hands together even more as he bent over at the waist.

"Just some lubrication," said Dr. Roland, "Don't want to cause any chafing now."

Taking his finger out, the doctor repeated the process a few more times, spreading the substance all around her insides. Then, picking up a rag, he used it to wipe away any excess remains. Elizabeth felt her core twitching again as he drew the cloth down between the cleft of her cheeks. The fact that there was more than just one source of lubrication to be cleaned remained unsaid.

With everything now prepared, he helped her back up. As Sarah held on to her arms from one side, the doctor supported her on the other, and together they turned her to face the machine.

&&&&&&

The Stirling engine operated on the principle of heat exchange, though before that there came the question of how she was to be mounted to the bench at the top of the machine. After a brief moment of discussion, the solution simply came down to brute force. As several of the servants worked together to help pull her into position, Elizabeth whined as they tied her limbs down, stringing her hands and feet together underneath the long triangular saddle with a length of rope. She tried to protest the entire way through of course, but against the instructions of her mother, the servants simply did as they were told.

Walking around her in a circle, Dr. Roland nodded in satisfaction.

"Wonderful," he said again, "And now, for the calibration. After all, we mustn't rob her of her purity by using the wrong hole."

A few turns of a pulley later, and Elizabeth felt the arm attached to the flywheel move up so that it rested between the curve of her rear. Naturally, the servants had placed her near the end of the bench, and laying down on her front with her limbs hugging the sides, her bottom was now raised to just the right height for the piston to reach. Turning a handle, the doctor pushed the device forward until she felt the tip of the phallic head pressing against the puckered entrance hidden between her cheeks.

"Some hot water now," said Dr. Roland, "The more the better."

Under the direction of the doctor, two of the maids rushed off to the kitchen to set some water to boil. A short while later, they returned with a steaming kettle which he accepted with thanks. Opening the glass container attached to the engine, he poured the liquid inside, and the maids rushed off to fetch more. For a few short moments, nothing speared to happen, and Elizabeth wondered if by some miracle the mechanism had broken. Then, as if by magic, the gears automatically began to turn. Slowly, ever so slowly, the piston began to move, pushing the rod down against the tightness of her backdoor.

"Ohhhh..."

Elizabeth gasped as the tool entered her, spreading her apart as it moved past the walls of her rectum. Aided by the lubrication, it slid in with ease, and the machine soon bottomed out with a full four inches of the shaft buried deep into the depths of her hole. Pausing for a short moment at the maximum length of its stroke, the gears then reversed, and the rod began to withdraw. Inch by inch, it slid out of her until only the head remained inside.

The doctor looked on in triumph as the piston began to move forward again, and the cycle repeated once more.

"One revolution every two point five seconds," he said, "A little over a thousand strokes across the course of an hour."

He pulled a watch out of his pocket to note the time, and seated on top of the machine, Elizabeth struggled to focus. One thousand! How on earth was she supposed endure for so long? They hadn't even yet reached a dozen, and already she could feel the frustration starting to mount. Each time the piston thrust into her, she couldn't help but blank out. With the pleasure concentrated only in her rear however, there was just no way for her to go over the edge.

"Nhhhhggg..."

Another thrust as the machine extended outward, and then a couple more as the rod moved in a continuous motion without pause. Stradling the device with her legs, Elizabeth braced herself against the assault. Soon however, another problem presented itself. Sitting on top of the triangular bench, the entire weight of her body rested on the single point of her seat, and the edge was now pressed up against her core. She hadn't noticed it at first, distracted by the teasing stimulation elsewhere, but as the number of thrusts began to increase, the pressure started to hurt.

The most straightforward solution of course was simply to squeeze her thighs together against the sloped sides of the bench and take some of the weight off. The problem with doing so, however, was that the resulting action would only serve to push her bottom up even higher into the air. Directly into the path of the rod, that is. Elizabeth bit down on her lips as she struggled to decide. Either she could stay as she was, or she could offer herself up even further to the machine.

"Ohhhh..."

In the end, it was the frustration of having her orgasm kept just a fraction of a hair away that decided for her. As the piston reached its one hundredth cycle, bottoming out all the way inside, her hips jerked upward as her legs automatically tried to close. Immediately, the pressure on her privates lessoned, and she breathed a sigh of relief. As a result of the movement, however, the new position she had just placed herself in meant that the rod was able to push down inside her even deeper than before.

Elizabeth shuddered as the head of the instrument pressed down against her insides, bumping up against the swollen lump of her g-spot through the thin wall of flesh in between her two holes. Then two point five seconds later, the piston withdrew to do it once more, hammering down against the soft and spongy wall at the front of her core. Her eyes rolled up against her head as the pleasure in her loins threatened to spill over and burst. This was it, the next one was going to be it. All she needed now was one more stroke to bring her over the edge.

Raising her bottom as high as she could, Elizabeth waited in anticipation for the final thrust from the machine. Only except this time, it never came. Opening her eyes, she looked up to see Dr. Roland standing over her with a triumphant look on his face.

"Exactly as designed," he said.

Besides him, her mother leaned forward, blinking as she tried to understand.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Reaching out to detach the rod from the no longer moving piston, the doctor swapped it for a new, slightly larger device with ridges running along its length. Gathering up another dollop of lubrication, he spread it across the surface of the new attachment as he explained.

"Built into the core of each rod is a small hydraulic plate attached via a pulley to the driving band of the wheel," he said, "At the exact moment of climax, the pressure of the patient squeezing down will cause the mechanism to disconnect, thereby serving the source of power."

He pointed to a small gear that had moved ever so slightly out of place. Below it, the pump of the Stirling engine continued to run, though without the connecting gear, the flywheel no longer turned.

"Of course, this also provides a good opportunity to swap out the tool being used," he said, "Since this is her first time as well, it would be prudent to check the effectiveness of each one in turn."

Jenna looked over to the table beside her where the doctor had previously set out all the different rods to be used with the machine. She counted a dozen at least, and those were just the ones that she could see. It would take hours to go through them all. Panic welled up inside her as she pulled at the bonds tying her down.

"Wait, please...," she begged, but the doctor had already set the gear back into place again, and she cried out as her rear was once again filled. The phallic head of the new attachment pushed inside her, deeper now due to its extended length, and her walls clenched down again as her body tried to seek out the climax she had just been denied.

"Please, at least let me spend!" she cried, but it was no use.

Elizabeth shook her hips in despair, doing everything she could think of to break free of her bonds, but the frustration only seemed to grow worse. It didn't help either that the machine had been placed at just the right angle to the window behind her through which the street outside could be seen. Whether by sheer coincidence or chance, several bystanders who happened to be walking by now stopped to turn their heads and look. Shaking her hips even harder, Elizabeth tried to move herself out of the way, but tied down as she was, and with her bottom pushed up into the air, there was just no way for her to escape. Through the half-closed curtains of the living room, and with the sun shining in at just the right place, they peered in to watch as the glistening wetness of her privates along with the curve of her buttocks bounced up and down in full display.

"Oh... oh... I can't!"

It was that final thought that drove her towards the edge again, the idea of her privates being exposed for all the world to see. Just as she thought she was finally going to find relief, however, Elizabeth wailed as the machine stopped again and the piston withdrew. Tears flowed freely down her face as the doctor moved forward to replace the rod at the end once more.

"It's not fair!" she cried, "I can't finish, it won't let me finish!"

The doctor made no reply however, and for the third time in a row, Elizabeth sobbed as the driving band slid back into place and the thrusting began anew. Opening up the reservoir, the doctor topped it off with more hot water from the kitchen. Despite the new source of heat, the machine continued on at the same pace as before, one thrust every two point five seconds as it kept her indefinitely on the edge.

As more tears of frustration rolled down her face, Elizabeth sobbed in despair as she waited for the machine to finish. With the audience she had attracted, however, both the servants around her and the crowd outside the window, it would be quite some time before she got her wish.

&&&&&&

By the time Dr. Roland managed to go through the entire set of tools, the sun was well past its height in the sky, and sprawled out across the top of the machine, Elizabeth was unable to do much more than moan as the piston finally withdrew from her backdoor. Moving her head to the side, she drew in a shallow breath as Sarah approached from behind with a towel.

"Congratulations, Young Mistress," she said.

Elizabeth tried to ask for what, but her voice seemed to be stuck, lost somewhere in the back of her throat. As she often did however, Sarah answered anyways, cleaning up the half-tried traces of her tears as she untied the ropes.

"On surviving," she said.

Elizabeth sat up, and the maid helped her climb down from the bench where she had spent the better part of the last few hours. Leaning halfway on the other girl, she slowly stumbled her way towards the nearest chair, collapsing down onto the seat the first moment she could. Her muscles protested at the treatment, and a hundred other aches and pains shot through her as she winced in return. Most prominent of them all was the soreness between her legs, and the numbness she felt in her core.

"Well?" asked her mother.

For a moment, Elizabeth struggled to understand what her mother was talking about. It was only after a few seconds of fuzzy thought that she realized she was talking about the exam. The doctor turned to her mother, gathering up his tools as he did so.

"She's made significant progress since last time," he said, "Though elements of her hysteria still remain. Most evident is her lack of resistance to being stimulated without the conclusion of a release."

He pointed, and Elizabeth turned her head to stare at the puddle of fluids she had left on the floor. A dull feeling of shame rose up inside her, though exhausted as she was, it was hard to grasp why it mattered. Not so much for her mother.

"By Jove," said her mother, "Does that mean..."

The doctor bowed his head in sympathy.

"I'm afraid so," he said, "Quite possibly, she'll need at least a few more months of temperance, possibly up to a full year before there can be a cure."

As Thomas stepped forward to help take the machine down, Dr. Roland walked over with the chastity belt he had removed earlier. Slowly, almost as if she was looking down at herself from above, Elizabeth watched in morbid curiosity as the doctor reached out to slide the metal contraption back around her waist. The lock clicked shut, and she felt the tight confines of the prison wrap around her once more.

"I'll drop by again next month for another checkup," said Dr. Roland, "Until then, I recommend you stick with the usual treatment of the cream. Two full doses before bed, and perhaps a few additional hours of anal stimulation at least once every other week."

Gathering up his bag, he left along with Thomas, leaving behind a few of the rod-like instruments that he had determined were best suited for the role. Elizabeth stared at them as her mother placed them on the table in front of her. With the frustration of the denial still lingering inside her, she didn't even want to think about the next time they were going to be used.

"Young Mistress?" said Sarah.

Elizabeth looked up at the maid, and with a start, she realized that she still wasn't wearing any clothes. For a moment, she thought about covering herself up with her hands again. With the chastity belt wrapped around her waist however, and with how tired she felt, just for once, she figured it couldn't hurt to let her pride go. Most of the servants had already left a long time ago anyways, and the only ones left now barely seemed to be paying her much mind. She supposed there was only so much of her skin that they could see before even they grew tired of it as well.

Straightening herself up as she sat in the chair, Elizabeth lifted her head up, holding her posture the best she could.

"I want a bath," she said.

Four words, simple and elegant, and despite the way her breasts stuck out with her nipples pointed up into the air, they sounded exactly like those of a proper lady for which no obstacle was too much to endure. Sarah smiled, and reaching out to take her hand, the maid led her upstairs. It would be a while before the chastity belt would come off again, but with what little she could do about it, Elizabeth brushed the thought away. She sighed as she sank into the hot water of the tub. That was something she could worry about when the opportunity came. For now, she was quite content to let the warmth wash her pains away.