by Ava Sinclair
“Good morning, sweet Lucy,” he said. Thomas desperately wanted to kiss her, but had decided that romantic gestures should be kept separate from what transpired in the exam room. She looked delectable, clad in a clean thin shift that revealed her nakedness underneath. She still glowed with innocence, but there was something else in her demeanor today—the allure of a sexual woman who has discovered the power of her own body.
“Do you remember our conversation last night?” Thomas asked, walking over. He smoothed a strand of hair away from his ward’s face as he looked down at her. “About pregnancy?”
“Yes.” Lucy nodded. “I don’t want it to happen to me. I’m happier living as your child than giving you one, if that is what the both of you want as well.”
“It is,” both men said in unison.
“But pregnancy is a likelihood unless we take immediate steps. You need a fast-acting medicine.”
“Another shot?” she asked, her voice tremulous.
“No, not a shot. But a bolus—like a large pill—inserted deep into your bottom.”
She caught her lower lip and worried it with her teeth for a moment. “There’s no other way?”
“I’m afraid not,” he said. “But there’s more. In order for the medicine to be quickly absorbed, you must undergo a cleansing. Both the cleansings and the medication will be part of your regular routine, so you’ll need to be a good girl and listen to both of us, understand?”
“Yes,” she said quietly, but he could tell that she was nervous.
“Do not worry, little one.” Behind her, Benedict was already leaning down to raise her shift up and off. “We will take care of you.”
Lucy did not resist being led to the table. Thomas had already filled a large rubber bag with the cleansing mixture designed to relax and cleanse her insides. As he watched his colleague get her into position, he realized that this exam would likely test all three of them. Lucy was on all fours, and as Benedict instructed her to lower the upper portion of her body onto the exam table, the moons of her bottom rose in its perfection, the cheeks parted just enough for him to glimpse the tight dusky rosette of her bottom hole above the juicy peach of her glistening pussy.
He tried to ignore his cock twitching to attention as he patted Lucy on her haunch and began explaining what would happen next.
“I’m going to insert this nozzle into your bottom, Lucy,” he said. “It may sting a little as your bottom has never had anything inside it, I’d wager.”
She was looking back now and shook her head, affirming that she’d been yet untouched there.
“Once it’s seated inside, I’ll open a valve on the bag you see hanging by the table. A warm mixture in the bag will run through the tubing and out the nozzle into your bottom.”
“But it looks to be so much!” she said, her bottom lip quivering prettily. And Thomas realized it must be a daunting sight, the large bag bulging with contents waiting to fill her.
“Not to worry,” Benedict objected. “We are both right here to help you through it, and you’ll feel so much better once it’s over. I promise.”
She relaxed a little and Thomas guided the lubricated nozzle to her opening. He pressed the shiny tip of it against her rosette, and it twitched in a manner that had him stiffening all the more.
He did not delay any longer, and continued to watch, mesmerized, as the nozzle slid into her bottom. He could see the outer rim of muscles stretching to accommodate the invasion, but beyond a little whimper, Lucy offered little by way of protest. In fact, he noted with a degree of surprise that the further he pushed the nozzle in, the wetter the pussy below it became. He could smell her arousal by the time the nozzle was seated.
“What a good girl you are,” he said. “We will always do what is best for you. And you will always submit, no?”
Her response was to moan, and Thomas exchanged a knowing look with Benedict. The little minx’s excitement increased in proportion to her helplessness. And Thomas realized then that this may hold the key to making the balance of her treatment less stressful.
“We’re going to release the cleansing medicine into your bottom now, Lucy. And you’re going to hold it because we are telling you to. You’re under our control, do you understand?”
Her response was a needy moan as she moved her bottom back and forth. Thomas wondered if Benedict was as aroused as he was by their sweet little Lucy’s unintended allure. Part of what made her so captivating was her innocence; she did not fully realize the effect she had on them.
Thomas reached up and opened the valve on the bag, freeing the contents to stream through the tube into Lucy’s bottom. She began to whimper, but Benedict was firmly telling her to hold still as he reached underneath her to massage her lower belly as the mixture filled her.
“It hurts!” she cried after a few moments.
“It’s not hurt you feel, but pressure,” Benedict said. “Just relax and give in to it, Lucy. Let yourself feel the sensation. We are both right here. Concentrate on holding it inside.”
“I-I-I can’t! I need to go!” Her voice was taking on a frantic tone.
“Will it help if we plug your bottom?” Benedict asked.
She looked up at him, her face flushed and beading with sweat as she nodded.
Benedict hurried to the cabinet and retrieved a plug. These were sometimes used for patients in Lucy’s situation. The one he selected was wider than the nozzle, with a tapered end and a flanged head designed to hold it secure.
“Lucy,” Benedict said as he greased the tip. “I’m going to push this into your bottom. It’s going to stretch you more than the nozzle did, and may hurt a bit. But once it’s in you won’t have to worry that you’ll release the medicine before it does its work. Now, are you going to hold still, or do I have to spank you?”
“Oh, no. I’ll be good.” Her pussy was all but dripping now, but Benedict focused on her bottom hole, pushing the tip of the plug against it and urging her to take deep breaths as he pushed it in.
She was tight, but bore the stretching bravely. Even as she cried out at the sting caused by the widest portion of the plug just before it narrowed at the flange, she pushed back, as if welcoming the invasion. With it seated, she was helped to a reclining position by her two guardians, who kept here there for several more minutes before Thomas removed the plug and helped her to a room off to the side so she could release the medicine in private.
Both of Lucy’s guardians offered copious praise to their ward when she emerged. With her bottom now completely clean, it was time for the next step—the insertion of the bolus. Thomas helped her back up into position.
“How does your pussy feel today?” he asked. “Are you sore from last night?”
“A little,” she said. “But it’s a… pleasant kind of sore. It’s confusing.”
“No, it’s not confusing at all,” Benedict said. “Sometimes pain can be pleasant. Is it that way for you?”
She looked back at them. “Yes,” she said shyly. “When you put the plug in my bottom, it hurt, but it made my pussy jealous to be filled.”
The men exchanged amused glances at her frankness.
“We have to fill your bottom again, this time with the bolus. It’s made of medicine that will dissolve and be absorbed by your body to prevent both pregnancies and your monthly bleeds,” Thomas said. “There is no shame in whatever feelings you may have during all of this, Lucy. Sometimes only your bottom will be filled, and there is nothing wrong with taking pleasure in that alone.” He pushed the lubricated end of the bolus against her bottom. This was wider even than the plug, but oval in shape. “Tell me how it feels when I push it into you.”
She was looking back at him, her expression nervous. But she was flushed with excitement. “It… hurts a little. But I want to please you. I want to be a good girl. Being your good girl makes me feel warm and… ooohhh…”
“And you are a good girl,” Benedict said.
Encouraged by his dominant tone, Lucy was now p
ushing back as the bolus was pushed in. Both men were looking at her bottom now, amazed at how she seemed to almost revel in the feeling of being stretched. Once it was fully inside, they praised her and told her that the fullness in her bottom would subside as she absorbed the medicine internally.
“Would it help if we plugged you again?” Thomas asked.
Lucy nodded sheepishly and this time, an even wider plug was selected.
“Are you sure?” Benedict asked his friend.
“If she objects, we will stop, but look… she’s dripping with desire.” Taking the plug, he ran it up the slit of her pussy, lubricating it with her juices. Lucy was groaning now with open abandon.
“We’re going to put another plug in, Lucy. But this time, Dr. Allard is going to touch your pussy while I slide it in.”
At the touch of Thomas’ hand, Lucy rocked her hips back. Benedict kept the tip of the plug pushed against her orifice, letting her push her bottom onto it. Both men were surprised when she moaned as she worked herself back and forth on both the plug and Benedict’s long fingers. When she was close to coming, Thomas pushed the plug all the way in and she cried out, her pussy clamping down hard on Benedict’s fingers as she orgasmed.
“What a good girl, Lucy,” they both said together. “What a very good girl.”
Chapter Twelve: The Happy Trio
The research on nymphomania had been sidelined. Drs. Allard and Crane wrote the university and explained that they would be presenting a different and groundbreaking paper on how the healthy cultivation of female desire could be used to cure past trauma. They made no mention of their ward or the role she had played in the change of their scientific direction.
Lucy was relieved to be simply a ward. She knew their lifestyle was very different. Most women had one husband and mingled in adult society. She’d always been quiet and shy, preferring the quiet company of those closest to her. Thomas and Benedict had created a safe, lovely world for her, free of pressures. They doted on her, and she believed her station as their submissive partner was as much a benefit to them as to her. They’d begun seeing patients again, and she knew the work was demanding. At the end of the day, they’d come upstairs to fetch her with smiles on their faces. They were taking care of her, but she was also taking care of them. She was their retreat in a world fraught with sickness and sadness.
It was a blustery Wednesday afternoon that she sat on the floor in the upstairs parlor, playing with a doll that Benedict had bought for her a day earlier. She’d been embarrassed when he’d given it to her. It was such a childish thing to have. But the couple who’d raised her for Judge Bonham had been frugal. Pastor Priven believed that toys spoiled a child, and so there had never been any nice playthings. Lucy coveted the doll as soon as she saw it, but felt almost guilty taking it. But then he’d reminded her that there was no shame in pleasure, not even the personal pleasure of having something whimsical and lovely. Lucy had dubbed the doll Dorothy, and had kept it with her every waking moment since.
She’d set up a small table on the floor in front of the fire and had seated Dorothy in a tiny chair. As she’d shifted to arrange the doll, Lucy was aware of the slight soreness in her bottom, reminding her that at the end of a day spent in childlike bliss, her guardians would come to her and—either together or separately—claim her as a woman.
The men were so very different, and both awakened different parts of her sexuality. Thomas was the scientist who studied her, taking pains to explore her body and discover new ways of bringing her pleasure. Benedict was the passionate paramour, overwhelming her with hard passionate thrusts as he suckled the aching peaks of her breasts.
It was also Benedict who’d taught Lucy that not all spankings must hurt. They’d been together one evening when a cheeky remark from Lucy had ended up with her being thrown over Benedict’s lap. He’d given her two hard spanks, each with enough force to bring tears to her eyes. But in the wake of the blows, he’d begun to gently rub her upturned nates and then alternate the rubbing motion with slow, stinging slaps. Lucy had found herself becoming excited as she remembered her initial days masturbating to the first spanking she’d received from one of her guardians. But that spanking had been intended to correct her, where this one was clearly intended to excite.
And excited she had been. Even as her bottom heated painfully, her pussy throbbed with a desire only Benedict’s cock could satisfy. Moments later, as she grasped the headboard, the handsome doctor thrust into her from behind, his lean hips slamming into her hot pink bottom as she cried out her passion.
“Your playmate is a very naughty, naughty girl,” she giggled at the doll she now held in her hands, but Lucy didn’t have the heart to tell Dorothy that she was tiring of their tea party and looking forward to playing with her guardians.
When she heard footfalls on the stairs, she ran to the door. But it was only the housekeeper who came for several hours a day to tidy things up.
“Oh,” she said. “I thought you were Dr. Crane.”
“No.” The woman moved past Lucy and walked to the grate, where she checked the fire before turning back. “I believe they have had a late patient arrive. Your guardians are in much demand among the womenfolk of north London.” She chuckled. “You shall have to share, my dear.”
Lucy frowned at this, but only because it was true. But the housekeeper was right. Drs. Allard and Crane had helped her so much. She could not be jealous that they helped others as well. She was about to make that gracious observation when the housekeeper started again.
“You’re a lucky duck, being in out of this weather. It’s bitter cold out there. My hands were nearly frozen by the time I got in this morning, and no thanks to that rude man who blocked my way to ask me all those questions.”
“Questions?” Lucy asked. “What questions?”
“Oh, about how many adults lived in this house, how many children, that sort of thing. He said he was some sort of census taker.”
Lucy felt an uneasy feeling move through her. “What did he look like, this census taker?”
“Were he not so pleasant, perhaps I’d not have tarried so long answering his questions,” the housekeeper replied, and then guffawed. “Tis not every day a woman the likes of me gets to speak to so fine a man.”
An image came to Lucy’s mind. The man who’d fetched her from the Privens had been of unusually pleasant appearance, with dark wavy hair and keen brown eyes.
“What did he look like?” she asked. “What color were his eyes?”
“What color were his eyes?” The housekeeper laughed as she repeated Lucy’s question back to her. “As if I’d notice that with the wind blowing in my face. Besides, looking that directly at a man is too bold, even for me. And certainly not advisable for a little lady like yourself.”
With a flick of the feather duster, she was off then, leaving Lucy alone with her discomfort. When her guardians did show up later, Lucy was no longer in an amorous mood.
Over dinner, she picked at her food, catching Thomas’ notice. “Are you unwell, Lucy? You’ve barely touched your duck or your potatoes.”
Lucy moved her food around the plate with her fork before answering. “You don’t think he’ll come after me, do you?”
“Who? Dr. Litman?”
“No,” she said. “Judge Bonham.”
“It’s been weeks now, Lucy,” Benedict said. “Bonham annulled his marriage and made you a ward of St. Bart’s asylum. No doubt he expected you to die there. He likely thinks you already have. You’ve nothing to fear.”
“Are you sure?” she pressed.
“Lucy?” Thomas leaned forward, covering her hand with his own. “Why are you worried? Has something happened?”
She shrugged. “No, not really. It’s just that the housekeeper said a census taker was outside asking all manner of questions this morning. And she said he was…” Lucy started to say ‘handsome’ then remembered the housekeeper’s admonishment about paying notice to the appearance of men. Mustering a
smile, she shook her head. “You’re right. I’m just being silly.”
“Silly Lucy,” Benedict said. “Whatever shall we do with her?”
“Love her forever, obviously,” Thomas said with a smile. “Or we could perhaps take her mind off of these vexations.” He stood and walked over, tipping Lucy’s face up until she was looking at him. “Would a bit of schooling help?”
Lucy all but beamed at this suggestion. ‘Schooling’ was her guardians’ euphemism for a lesson in carnal pleasures. “Yes, sirs,” she said, and the men guided her upstairs.
“I think,” Thomas said when they were in their private parlor, “that we should explore new uses for our Lucy’s sweet mouth.”
“What a grand idea,” Benedict said, loosening his trousers. “Lucy, do you like it when Thomas and I put our mouths between your legs?”
She flushed. “Oh, so much,” she said innocently, but her voice had the huskiness of a wanton woman.
“Your men like that, too,” he said. “And today we shall teach you how to pleasure us as we have pleasured you.”
Lucy’s tongue darted out to touch her top lip as she watched Benedict pulling on his cock until it was long and hard. The idea of taking it into her mouth was very appealing. The men had already taught her how to touch them, to move her hand up and down their shafts, to recognize and stimulate the most sensitive parts of their manhoods. But this had been with her hands, and now she would apply those lessons with lips and tongue and the warm cavern of her mouth.
Thomas guided her as she snaked out her little pink tongue to quickly run it along the underside of Benedict’s cock, lapping away a salty, slick drop of arousal from the slit at the tip. She was rewarded by his manly shudder, and emboldened by the power her slightest touch gave her over the man she loved. With her gaze cast up, she opened her mouth and took him in, heeding Thomas’ advice to relax her throat as the other man’s cock slid in and out, going deeper each time until it was nudging at the back of her throat.
