Emily Fessenden

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Victorian woman learns from her doctor.
3.2k words
4.27
82.9k
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Part 1 of the 4 part series

Updated 10/30/2022
Created 07/31/2007
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Doctor O
Doctor O
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Emily Fessenden was constantly nervous. She fretted. She daydreamed. She had dreams that disturbed [and fascinated] her. She was sometimes very pleasant with the household staff, and other times she was unexpectedly rude. She had spells of depression, and would lock herself in her room, or sit on the small balcony overlooking the well-groomed garden, refusing to take meals. Constantly she had vague unusual sensations in her body. Dull headaches often bothered her.

Her husband of three years, Herman, was a successful and very busy businessman, operating a sawmill, small mercantile, and was part-owner in a modest hotel. He was important and powerful in the community. Herman had married Emily for 'business reasons', and because his father had strongly pressured him into taking a wife. He had never really had much interest in women or romance. Herman's true loves were commerce, and money. He was seldom in his three-story Victorian home. He breakfasted there, and came home past 8 o'clock most evenings. The home was ornate, well-appointed, and staffed by two maids and a valet-chauffer.

Emily was a beautiful, petite woman, with pale complexion, blonde hair, and fine features. Her figure was that of a slender young teen, with slim hips and smallish breasts. She wore her hair in the style of other ladies of privilege in the 1880s, sometimes accented by tortoiseshell or ivory combs. Her jewelry, particularly her collection of cameos and pearls, was unsurpassed. Her garments were the finest in town, custom made by the finest seamstress of the most lush fabrics. She had gone to Emelda Gruber's School for Young Ladies, and had excelled in music, art, and dance.

Herman's father and Emily's parents had gone to great lengths to 'arrange' the marriage of their children. Both were upper-class families, and Herman's father and Emily's father had met while attending Business College 30 years earlier.

Herman simply did not have time for Emily. He had employees to supervise, ledgers to review, and investments to consider. They had had a lavish wedding, but Herman cancelled the honeymoon, because of a fire that had destroyed the top floor of his mercantile exchange. That had been three years ago. Emily had scarcely seen Herman since the wedding. In the beginning, she took breakfast with him in the dining room, but Herman all but ignored her, preferring to scrutinize balance sheets, or read the morning paper. He spoke but few words to Emily, gave her a peck on the cheek -- some mornings -- and dashed out the door to the carriage, where the driver awaited with Herman's hat and a cigar.

Emily was lonely. She had decorated the house -- and redecorated it. Herman was generous with the household expenses -- she had nothing to complain about in that regard. Emily shopped; she did that very well. She spent many hours in the dress shoppe, deciding on fabrics, laces, and being fitted for opulent dresses. She visited the jeweler the hat shoppe regularly. At first.

But gradually, she began to lose interest in shopping. She had more than enough dresses, shoes, hats and delicate undergarments. She had 'Fessenden House' filled the house with costly furnishings and imported rugs. She was bored. And lonely. And eventually depressed.

Emily began to have physical symptoms, also. She became nervous and easily agitated at times. Her head ached. She had very little energy. Emily sometimes slept all night, and then slept two to four hours in the day. She would feel faint when standing up quickly. At times her fingers and hands, or her feet would tingle. Her thighs felt heavy or ached at times. And her lower abdomen -- her pelvis felt heavy. And there were almost constant sensations of tingling and fine vibrations or tremors. The symptoms were driving her into despair and apathy. She stopped shopping, and remained at home most of the time. She seldom breakfasted with Herman, and often was asleep in her bedroom when he returned from work.

The maids were concerned with the debilitation of the lady of the house. Herman noticed, too -- eventually. He was frustrated by the fact that he could not entertain business associates and prospects. He could not have people to dinner, while Emily was secluded in her rooms. He could not be seen at social functions or dinner parties without his wife.

Herman summoned Dr. Gentry to the house, to examine Mrs. Fessenden.

Dr. Gentry was a recent graduate of medical school, and Herman hoped that he would be familiar with the most recent diagnostic and treatment methods. Dr. Gentry had studied psychology. At the appointed time, Emily received Dr. Gentry in the parlor for a consultation. She recited her symptoms to him, and he meticulously took notes. At times he nodded his head with understanding, but more often he was perplexed by her symptoms. He prescribed a tonic for Emily, and told her he would call back in two weeks to evaluate her progress.

Emily took the tonic -- a tincture of valerian root and alcohol. She took it as Dr. Gentry prescribed, but it only made her more lethargic, and she slept even more hours during the day.

Dr. Gentry returned to interview Emily, and learned that it had not helped her any of her symptoms other than headache. She still felt dizzy at times. She was nervous. And she had this heavy sensation in her thighs and pelvis. Sometimes, she said, she could not take a deep breath. She felt restless all the time, and she was having disturbing dreams practically every night. He had no idea what she may be suffering from, and thought it must be at least partially physical, and not only her 'nerves'.

Dr. Gentry informed Herman that he did not know what was wrong with Emily, and suggested that Dr. Fallow be called. Dr Gentry was daunted by Emily's symptoms, and, truth be told, was quite inexperienced in 'women's disorders'. Herman knew that Dr. Fallow had been in practice for almost 30 years, and was popular among the 'working classes of the community. Dr. Gentry felt that Emily required a complete examination, and, having very limited experience in that sort of thing, himself, urged Herman to call upon Dr. Fallow.

The Consultation

The next day, Herman did visit Dr Fallow's small office, above the bank. George Fallow appeared very much like a stereotypical doctor -- gray hair and beard, small wire-rimmed spectacles, vested with pocketed watch and gold chain, and a loosely tied cravat. Herman explained some of Emily's perplexing symptoms to the fifty-something doctor and that Dr. Gentry had been perplexed by her case. Dr Fallow listened carefully, asked a few questions of Herman, and agreed to consult with and examine Emily the following afternoon.

Thursday morning, Emily stayed in bed until 11. Lucy, one of the maids, told Emily that Mr. Fessenden had arranged that Dr Fallow would be coming to interview her about her poor health. "Not another doctor" she groaned. Lucy spoke up and said that she had some friends who had been helped by Dr Fallow, and encouraged Emily. She refused the breakfast that Lucy offered her, and reluctantly [and slowly] bathed, brushed her hair, and put on a satin dressing gown.

At 1 o'clock, Dr Fallow appeared at the Fessenden home, carrying his well-worn leather medical bag. He was escorted into the parlor, where a debilitated Emily awaited in an upholstered Eastlake style chair.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Fessenden," Dr Fallow said pleasantly, faintly bowing his head. "I'm Dr Fallow -- but please call me George, if you like."

He strode confidently toward Emily, and took her small hand, which she had politely extended to him.

Smiling politely at the handsome older gentleman, Emily said, "Please have a seat. Which do you prefer? Dr Fallow, or George?"

"George will do just fine, Mrs. Fessenden," he replied as he sat his leather doctor's bag on the floor next to his chair.

"Then please call me Emily, George. I understand that you have come to hear about my ailments?"

"Yes, we'll talk a while, then if time permits, I'd like to examine you Emily."

A blush colored Emily's cheeks. Examine her? Lucy had not mentioned an examination. An examination, she wondered, what sort of examination?

"First I'd like you to tell me about your condition. Every so often I will interrupt you, asking you to clarify or give specifics. I assure you that whatever you tell me will be held in the strictest confidence. In fact, I will not disclose details to your husband -- only the generalities of my evaluation."

Emily was curious, but she began to recite her symptoms to the kindly-looking doctor.

"I am nervous, doctor...George. I often feel very anxious and jittery. Restless is a good word. Sometimes it is only in my mind, but other times I feel faint tingles or vibrations or something like tremors in my body."

"How often do you feel this way?"

"Constantly," she sighed. "All the time," she emphasized.

"I see," the doctor said, reaching into his pocket for pencil and small notepad, and beginning to write. "And the physical symptoms -- the tingling and the sensations of vibrations -- where do you feel them?"

Emily lowered her eyes momentarily, then raised them to meet the doctor's inquisitive gaze.

"Especially in my thighs," she said, feeling a little anxious, but assuring herself that George was a doctor.

"In your thighs," George repeated as he wrote. "Anywhere else?"

Emily hesitated for a few seconds. "And above."

"Above?"

Again Emily downcast her eyes, and felt a blush warm her face. "Yes, above. Umm...above...where the thighs meet."

George Fallow nodded, and made a note.

"You're certain that this is confidential?" Emily nervously pleaded.

"Yes, absolutely, Emily. Whatever details you tell me will be nothing more than part of your medical records -- no one but I will be privy to them. Rest assured."

She relaxed somewhat, but still felt anxious, but decided she could trust the doctor.

"Please tell me more -- you feel these sensations in your thighs and...above your thighs. They are like tingles and vibrations. What else can you tell me about how you feel in those areas."

Emily felt her complexion flush again. She crossed then uncrossed her legs, nervously. "Would you care for a little refreshment George? Lemonade or sherry?"

"Do you have port?" George asked.

"I'm sure we do," Emily answered, as she rung the small bell on the table beside her, signaling Lucy.

"Lucy, please bring Dr Fallows and I some port." Lucy looked a bit surprised, but went to the basement to find a bottle of port. Quickly she returned, with the bottle and two small glasses on a silver tray. She poured a glass for each of them, and then left the room, more than a little curious that Mrs. Fessenden has asked for the wine.

Emily nearly emptied her glass of port without lowering it from her lips. George took a polite sip.

"Go on," George urged. "Tell me about the sensations that you have above your thighs."

Emily had not eaten that morning, and the port and her embarrassment began to warm her.

"In my...female area...is where I feel the strongest sensations. That is where I notice them most -- like a fine vibration or tingling sensation -- sometimes even almost aching."

George made a notation.

"The pudenda," Emily continued. That is the medical word, isn't it, George?"

"Yes, it is one of the medical terms for that area, Emily."

"I learned that in finishing school. Pudenda. A Latin word, yes?"

"Yes, Emily, I believe it is from the Latin."

"We girls called it le chat when I was in the finishing school."

It was George's turn to faintly blush. Le chat. He knew it as the French equivalent of 'pussy'.

Clearing his throat, he asked Emily, "Do you feel these sensations on the outside or the inside of your pudenda?"

"Both," she replied, as she finished the glass of port, and poured herself another. I feel the sensations there all the time. Sometimes they are mild and I hardly notice them; other times they crescendo and I feel very distracted by them."

Taking another sip of port, George asked, "And does anything give you relief of those sensations?"

"Dreams," Emily replied.

"Dreams? Can you explain?"

Emily was feeling very warm at this point, and slightly parted the neckline of her dressing gown, and brushed a tendril of hair away from her temple.

"Sometimes, doctor...I mean George...sometimes I have noticed that after I have had very vivid dreams, I am peculiarly restless in the night, turning this way and that, and I find that I have rolled onto my tummy and...it seems that I push my hips into the mattress. I have noticed in the morning after that that the sensations are temporarily less -- sometimes even gone for the better part of a day."

"What sort of dreams? Can you remember for me?"

"In the dreams, I often imagine that I am undressing, and taking a bath in a lovely pond. I enjoy being unclothed, and feel the sensations of the breeze and the cool water on my bare skin."

"And?"

"And, often in that type of dream, I am not alone." Emily finished the second glass of port, and opened her gown a little further, more fully exposing the soft white flesh of her upper chest. "Sometimes I dream that I am accompanied from some of the girls in my finishing school. They have undressed too, and we frolic in the pond. Splashing one another. Giggling. Pushing one another under the water. Comparing ourselves with each other."

George shifted his position in the chair, and took a large drink of port this time, quickly making notes.

"And other times," Emily continued, "there are men in the dream. They are hidden behind trees or shrubs, watching us secretly."

"I see," nodded the doctor.

"And it is the strangest thing, George. I know I toss about in my bed, and find myself lying on my belly in the morning, sometimes with my nightgown above my waist. And what is most strange is that I have noticed a damp spot on my sheets some mornings after I have that sort of dream. I haven't any idea what that is -- but I notice that those mornings I have very little or none of those sensations."

George made a note, then asked, "Do you have any discomfort when you and Mr. Fessenden have intimacy?"

"Intimacy?"

"Yes, you know...when you and your husband have marital intimacy."

Emily poured a third glass of port, and stared into the distance. "Mr. Fessenden and I have not been physically intimate, George."

"Never?" he asked, having difficulty hiding his incredulity.

"Never," Emily replied. "I expected that we would have on our honeymoon, but Herman cancelled it because of a fire in one of his businesses. It seems he thinks of nothing except business, and...well, we have not ever been physically intimate. Of course I had expected we would. My mother told me a little of what to expect. And we girls in school had whispered after curfew about what happens when a man and woman marry, so I did have some idea. And in Miss Bell's class, we did see a few drawings of men's anatomy. But nothing has ever happened between Herman and me along that line."

Dr Fallow sat aside his pencil and notepad, looked into Emily's eyes for a few moments, and then said, "I think I understand. Let me describe some of the other symptoms that you might be having. You let me know whether I am right or wrong. Sometimes you feel palpitations -- fluttering in your chest. And you sleep more than most people -- probably having to take long naps during the day. You feel a sense of heaviness in your lower abdomen -- your belly. You sometimes feel unusual sensations in your fingers or face, or sometimes your breasts. And you get nagging headaches. And your energy level seems low, and at times you feel faint or dizzy. Am I right?"

"My husband must have told you those things! Didn't he?"

"No, Emily, he did not. He merely said that you were very nervous, and had lost interest in things that previously had entertained you, and that he is very concerned about you."

"Then how do you know that I have all those feelings?"

"After listening to what you have told me thus far, I was suspicious of a particular condition called neurasthenia."

"Neurasthenia? Is it awful? Will I die? Can it be cured?"

"Neurasthenia is a complex set of symptoms, Emily. And there are various causes of neurasthenia, and different types. But the symptoms you told me, as well as the ones I recited to you are the most common. Neurasthenia occurs mainly in women, but once in a while it afflicts men, also. It is often puzzling, and challenging to treat. I have read some doctors' writings on the subject, and have seen several patients with neurasthenia, myself. It seems to happen mainly in upper class women. Some cases relate to stress. Others relate to chlorosis -- when the blood is too thin -- some doctors call it anemia. Sometimes it seems related to congestion of the lymph -- a fluid that flows through the body, something like blood. Some call these symptoms 'depression' which seems to be a weakness of the nerves and will. And there are other causes, peculiar to women, called hysterical neurasthenia."

"Can you help me George?"

"I don't know yet. I'll need to examine you first." He paused briefly, then continued. "When was the last time you had a complete examination, Emily?"

"Never. At least I don't think so. You mean examine me all over, George?"

"Exactly Emily. Everything. Top to bottom; outside and inside. That way I'll find out for sure if it is neurasthenia, and what type."

Emily's eyes opened wide as he spoke. She definitely wanted to find out what was keeping her feeling the way she did. And she trusted George -- his voice was reassuring, and his demeanor was confident. The thought of him examining her everywhere made her feel jittery -- and there was a pleasant quality to the jitters.

"And that's what you need to do, George? Examine me all over? Top to bottom..?"

"Top to bottom," he nodded. "I'll begin with your head, and work my way down."

"Down to where?" Emily squirmed almost imperceptibly in her chair.

"Down to you pudendum, Emily. Based upon what you've told me, I strongly suspect I'll find that much or most of your problems are there."

"Outside and inside?" Emily asked timidly, feeling her face burn with blushes, and noticing her heart race.

"Yes, Emily, inside too. I suspect there may be a problem inside your pelvis. Possibly with your womb."

She responded, "Where shall we do this examination, doctor?"

"Have you a fainting couch, Emily? In a well-lit room?"

"Yes, there is one in my study."

"Excellent. What I'd like you to do, Emily, is completely disrobe, then put on your dressing gown, only. I'll give you a few minutes to prepare, then you can have your maid come fetch me to your study."

Emily rang the bell for Lucy once again. She appeared within a moment. "Yes ma'am?"

"Lucy, I want you to bring Dr. Fallow to my study in five minutes."

"Yes ma'am," Lucy nodded.

Doctor O
Doctor O
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15 Comments
blackknight314blackknight314about 7 years ago
Well written.

Need more story... to short.

AnonymousAnonymousover 14 years ago
nIce !!

Sweet and nice, a bit like Emily at this stage of the story.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 16 years ago
Very well done! When is the next chapter?

A very engaging,well-written piece. The character development is such that one feels he knows the characters a little, but not so well as to become bored with them, as sometimes happens with literotica. Will we be honored any time soon withthe next installment?

AnonymousAnonymousover 16 years ago
Top of the List

What a clever story! I loved it, and can't wait for the next installment. You devil, you.

AnonymousAnonymousover 16 years ago
give us more!

please, where's the rest of the story?? give us the rest!

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