tagBDSMExperiences at the Surgery Pt. 01

Experiences at the Surgery Pt. 01


This is my first story, and I'm quite nervous about it. It is based on what happened a few years ago, though I have changed a few details to protect anonymity. It's quite graphic with some descriptions of bodily functions, which do not offend me but if they do you, you might want to look at something else

The characters are over 18. Comments are welcome.


I moved into "The Firs" in the April. It was a fresh start. New job in the town, which was only ten minutes away, and a 100 miles from my ex. I needed to put some distance between us. Why that relationship fell apart I will describe later.

The flat was on a short term lease. I'd signed for 6 months. The rent appeared almost too good to be true. I wasn't used to so much space. The only downside seemed to be that it was upstairs, and the gardens had to be shared with the owner of the main building across the courtyard.

That was a stone built villa with additions that reeked of Victorian gentility. Big bay windows, arched porch and semi circular gravel drive surrounded by rhododendrons.

I didn't actually meet the owner of the property before I moved in, all the negotiations were handled by the estate agent.

In the late spring I got home one Friday evening to find a hand written letter lying on the door mat. The writing, in black ink, was in bold italics. It was addressed to Ms J Birch, but without an address.

Puzzled I opened it before I'd even closed the door. The thick traditional cartridge paper had the address of "The Firs," printed in the top right hand corner. Further down in the middle of the page there was one sentence in the same bold handwriting. It simply said.

"I would be delighted if you could come to tea with me on Sunday 22nd May at 4pm. Please let me know if you cannot attend, otherwise I look forward to meeting you."

It was signed Marion Palmer.

My landlord had invited me to tea. Clearly she was the sort of woman who enjoyed formality and did not trifle herself with coming round and introducing herself on the doorstep.

As it happened, whilst I'd a number of tasks to complete on the Saturday of that weekend, Sunday was completely free. I decided there and then that my curiosity had been roused, so I would go and meet this Marion Palmer. It seemed wise to be courteous to my new landlord, the rent for the flat was some 20 percent below its true value.


That Sunday, after an hour at the Gym and a late breakfast perusing the papers, I duly got ready for my appointment. I spent a little time deliberating whether I could get away with jeans but decided the rather starchy nature of the invitation suggested slightly more formal attire. I settled on wearing one of my better blouses and a knee length denim skirt. It struck the right note of casual but not too casual.

I finished the outfit off with dark grey pantyhose and black ballet pumps.

In the bathroom I put on a little eye make up and lip gloss, again trying to strike the right balance between putting all of my face on and doing nothing.

All in all I felt pleased with my appearance. Just the wrong side of thirty as I was, I had no grey hair yet, so my long straight hair, once brushed and straightened a little, shone as it was in really good condition.

At just after 4pm I made my way round to the drive, up to the large black front door and rang the bell.

My first impressions of Marion were of the firmness of her handshake, the blackness of her precision cut chin length bob and the fullness of her lips.

"Ms Birch I presume?" she said in a rather deep voice.

"Yes, but please call me Jane," I wanted to be as relaxed as I could...

"You can call me Marion," came a rather icy reply, "though many just call me Matron."

"Oh I see. I take it you are still in the profession then."

"In private practice these days," but she stopped there and did not elucidate further. "Come through won't you, I've set things up for tea in my Study. It's cosy and we can talk properly there."

She led me through a rather dark hall with an oak floor and moulded ceiling. We then passed down a dark corridor and through into a small light study with a large wooden desk in the middle, and two small armchairs facing a stone fireplace with a brass fender in front.

"Sit there please," she said pointing to the furthest chair. It was an instruction rather than an invitation. I settled myself down rather gingerly, feeling as though this was going to be more like an interview than an easy going tea party. "I'll just go and fetch the tea."

Marion swept from the room, her 3/4 skirt billowing as she did.

I sat there and took stock. It was a pretty room, nicely sized for a study, with a bay window looking over the lawn and down to the conifers at the end of the garden. The furnishings and style felt old fashioned. Whilst the quality was clearly good, things seemed to belong to an era my grand parents would be more familiar with than me.

Over the fireplace was a portrait of a grey haired man with a formal bearing and dressed in a frock coat. He looked Victorian from the style of his clothes. There were few other pictures of note. Tall bookshelves lined each side of the chimney breast and they were full of hardbacks, mostly with red or black leather cloth covers and gold embossed titles on the spines. I perused some of the titles. They were mainly medical textbooks or Military biographies. I felt like I was in a medical man's inner sanctum, the only things missing were his white coat and stethoscope.

Soon enough Marion returned carrying a large tray laden with a china teapot, crockery, plates and sandwiches. She busied herself distributing the tea and offering the delicately cut cucumber sandwiches before settling herself down beside me.

"So Jane, what brings you to this rather quiet backwater of ours."

My earlier sense that I was going to be interviewed rather than having a womanly chat felt like it was about to be borne out.

"Well it was the job really Marion. Atlas Global made me an offer I just couldn't refuse."

"And what do you actually do?"

"Well I'm a specialist financial analyst and researcher."

"I see. And is that office based?"

"Some of the time. I spend about three days a week in the office, but we have very flexible work patterns these days. Most of my work is on-line. Tell me what do you do? "

"I suppose you could say that I help people realise their potential."

It was an obscure reply. I tried again.

"You mean something like a physical fitness trainer?"

"Well not exactly. There is some work I do that concentrates on the physical, but there is also some work on the mental side too?"

"I see," I said, not really any clearer.

"My work may take me in any one of a number of directions, i really depends on the nature of the client and what difficulties they present. No two clients have the same needs. Often, someone consults me who does not really understand what their difficulties are, and we have to spend time looking at their life and situation to devise the right course of treatment."

My interest was stimulated by Marion's vague revelations, but she then steered the conversation in another direction.

"So tell me, why is a pretty young woman like you apparently single?"

I felt immediately under pressure to talk about Hugh, and why our relationship had foundered. I fidgeted and picked up my teacup to give myself a moment by drinking before answering.

"Well I was in a relationship until a few months ago, but we found out that we had some incompatibilities so we parted company."

"I'm sorry to hear about that," Marion replied matter of factly. "I've some experience in helping people come to terms with relationship breakdown, but I will not pry, I barely know you and it is none of my business."

An idea came to me that I thought might change the subject.

"Marion who is that rather imposing gentleman in the portrait?"

She looked up at the portrait and smiled before looking back at me and answering.

"That is my great grandfather. Bertram Palmer. He built this house. He was a doctor. This was his study, and his surgery is down the corridor. I inherited this place when my mother died. He was I understand something of a medical pioneer in treating women's problems in his day."

She seemed to swell with pride as she spoke. I hadn't really noticed before, but her prominent breasts seemed to be straining the small delicate buttons of her striped blouse.

"You must be very proud of him."

"Yes indeed. In fact I've spent some time reading about his work. Many of his research papers are housed in the bookcases you can see beside you."

"Fascinating," I replied, trying to keep the conversation going.

"Anyway enough of that, tell me about your family."

"Well there isn't much to tell really. I have no siblings and my father is dead. My mother remarried and now lives in Germany."

"Oh reallly. I have always loved Germany. I think the Germans have very good attitudes and habits."

It seemed an odd thing to say. I helped myself to another sandwich.

The conversation moved on to a discussion about the town and its good points and bad points. Marion was firm in her opinions about the state of the high street and the number of Charity shops that were taking over. I chipped in with a few comments here and there, but there was no doubt she was talking about what she wanted to talk about and I Felt a little uncomfortable.

After a little while she went off to make some more tea.I looked at my watch. It was 5.15pm. I felt I'd been there for much longer.

When she returned with the tea, I asked her if I could use her toilet. The tea and my tension had got to my bladder which was sending uncomfortable signals.

She directed me to take the second door on the right down the corridor, and I left her to her tea mashing rituals.

I'm not really sure what I did wrong. I've thought about it many times since, but I must have miscounted the number of doors in the corridor, and opened the third door down from the study rather than the second. I stepped inside, closing the door behind me as I did. It took me a few seconds to absorb the shocking sight that greeted me...

It was a large bright room, clearly not a toilet. A very thin young woman with light brown hair was facing me. She was sitting in a wooden chair. She was naked and blindfolded. What was even more shocking was she was tied, so her arms were fastened to the arms of the chair and her legs to the legs. Her legs were widely splayed revealing a completely hairless pussy, and crammed into it was a black vibrator, that was humming loudly. A pair of pink panties were hanging out of her mouth.

I was stunned. I'm sure I also made a small squeal with the surprise of it all. I stood rooted to the spot for a few moments gazing at her youthful body, before muttering,

"I'm so sorry," and bolting out of the room.

Completely flustered I went back up towards the Study and opened the next door, which to my intense relief was the toilet.

It took me a couple of minutes to regain my composure. What on earth had I just witnessed? Was she a patient or Marion's partner? If it was the former then what sort of treatment was she getting?? and if it was the latter, there was quiet a big age difference between them. The girl tied to the chair looked a a little younger than me...

I emerged from the toilet after checking my face was not too flushed and made my way back to the study.

Marion was sitting waiting for me.

"Is everything alright?" She asked, concern in her voice.

"Yes, sorry, ..er...well I've had a bit of an accident. My period seems to have started early. I need to go home and change if that's ok?"

"Yes of course, sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do? I mean I've got pretty much everything one could possibly need in my dispensary. Can I fetch you something? Panty liners? Tampons?"

"No, no I have everything at home. It was very nice to meet you, and thanks for the lovely tea and sandwiches."

"Not at all. You must come again. Perhaps for a glass or two of wine one evening. After all you won't have to drive will you?" And she laughed a small rather artificial laugh.

"Yes that would be lovely," I lied. After the last few minutes I didn't know whether I ever wanted to be in the same room as Marion again. I was very unsure after what I'd just seen...

I bade my host farewell. The heavy front door clunked shut behind me.


That evening I prepared a light meal and then did some reading. Some time later I decided to have a bath and went to the bathroom to run it.

The light was fading, but there was still enough light to see. As I went to close the blind I glanced through the ventilation window as a bright light across the courtyard caught my eye.

The light was coming from a bedroom window. I had not realised how, with the shape of the house, these two windows were so close to one another. The distance was probably only five metres. I looked through the gap between the hinged pane and the window frame. The room over the courtyard was flooded with light from a chandelier. I could see a single bed with a small bedside cabinet, a dressing table with three mirrors and a small chair.

I took no further notice, closed the blind, added some lavender oil to the bath and undressed.

Lying there, pondering the extraordinary sight of the girl with the knickers in her mouth, my mind returned to Marion Palmer and what a domineering persona she was. The whole time I had been in her presence I'd felt that she was assessing me and I was nothing more than a disobedient student. What an odd woman she was...I would need to be careful I did not get into an argument with her. And what was she doing with that girl? Her tied up in one room whilst she took tea with a neighbour down the corridor - somewhat reckless it appeared to me...

I was disturbed from my meandering thoughts by the sound of voices drifting though the window. I bolted upright, sending water everywhere. It was Marion's voice... I was sure.

Carefully, I climbed out of the bath and grabbed a towel. The voice became louder and then went quiet. I was intrigued...

I knew it was wrong, but I switched off the bathroom light and pulled up the blind. Squinting through the gap between the ventilator and the window frame the brightly lit bedroom came into view once more.

My mouth fell open with what I saw.

Marion was standing in the room. She was in her Nurse's or rather her Matron's uniform. It looked slightly comical and old fashioned. However there was nothing comical in what she was holding. It was a thin cane, with a curved handle.

I shivered. I knew what was coming next...

The girl with the light brown hair now came into view. She had pale blue eyes and elfin features. She was wearing a thin cotton shift that just about reached her thighs. Her hair was now plaited into pigtails. Her cheeks were red as if from recent exertion.

"Take it off - now.." the instruction was barked at the girl.

Slowly the girl turned her back to Marion and the window, and with a deliberate seductiveness, eased the shoulder straps of the shift off letting it fall to the floor. She looked back over her shoulder at Marion, her face lined with worry.

"Now," Marion was almost shouting with fury. "Get over that chair."

And with that the girl presented her bottom to Marion, and what an ample bottom it was for one so thin...

My heart was in my mouth, I scarcely dared breathe. The girl was going to be caned by Marion and I would witness it...

It felt so wrong, but I was too weak willed to leave.

The girl got eight strokes. Marion made her count after each one, and she forgot to do this twice...

The severity of the caning surprised me. The first four strokes were nothing more than gentle taps, that sent the girl's buttocks quivering. The last four were considerably fiercer. Each one left a livid tramline across the pale cheeks and the girl howled with the pain.

I was shocked, really shocked by the tableaux as it unfolded. The girl draped over the chair howling and rubbing her buttocks frantically between the strokes whilst Marion stood watching, a sly grin of satisfaction on her face...

Suddenly Marion discarded the cane, and leaning forwards restrained the girl by holding the back of her neck with her left hand before insinuating the fingers of her right hand between the girls legs.

"You're dripping you little slut. Look..! I know what you want," and Marion's fingers then sought their target. The girl was finger fucked vigorously until she went into a large spasm that was clearly an orgasm, and then fell forwards, exhausted.

Marion picked up her cane, wiped her sticky fingers across the reddened cheeks of the girl's behind and disappeared from view.

I'd seen enough. I pulled down the blind again and went to my bedroom.

Sitting at the dressing table, removing my makeup, my thoughts returned to the events of the day. Remarkable was one description, but there was another and this was confirmed by the state of my nether regions.

My pubes were wet through and there was moisture all around my thighs and bottom. Yes, the word I kept coming back to was exciting... The events of the day had been very exciting...

Chapter 2

Before going any further relating what happened next with Marion Palmer, I want to explain a little about my past.

I had, by the time I moved to The Firs, been with three sexual partners.

I lost my virginity at eighteen to a nice boy named David who I met in Cyprus whilst on a post A level holiday with my best friend Sophie.

I didn't really member very much about it, as it was late at night and fuelled by vodka shots. It didn't last very long, the first time, and I was sore down below for a couple of days afterwards.

David and I did manage to repeat things the last afternoon we were there. We went to his hotel room whilst the rest of the party were still on the beach.

The second time he was considerate and gentle, but again his inexperience and over -excitement meant matters reached their climax before I was really aroused.

There was then quite a considerable gap during my time at Uni. I was anxious about getting a good degree and didn't really fall in with the fast crowd. Of course I masturbated, as everyone does, but I never really found that fulfilling. At least not until I met Helen.

Helen was on the same course as me and we decided to share a flat for our final year.

She was funny and pretty with long blonde hair and seemed much more worldly than me.

When we were together in the flat she was very laissez faire about how she dressed and thought it quite acceptable to walk round the flat with no panties on, or come and sit on the loo and have a pee whilst I was in the bath!

My puritanical upbringing was tested quite a lot by Helen. Her heart was in the right place though. She respected our friendship and never made a pass at me even though she was openly bisexual.

It was in our last term that we had our fling. Exams were over. We were partying every night whilst we waited for our results, and one June night after the Faculty Ball it just happened...

If the truth be told, I sort of led her on. We were back in the flat having a final nightcap on the sofa. It was one of those nights when the temperature was just not going to drop. I was hot, and in my drunken state I decided to talk my ball gown off to cool down.

Helen thought it was a brilliant idea and jumped up and offered to undo me. She did...enthusiastically...so in a moment I was down to my undies, and there wasn't much of them...

Helen sat back on the sofa and then spent a few minutes critiquing my body. I enjoyed the attention...no one had ever described my small tits as juicy or my bum as tantalising.

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