Dr. Gregory's Seduction

by Serena Jones

  And yet it was clear that Mr. Brown found Daisy’s actions extremely pleasurable. Within seconds, his face took on an expression that Gregory recognized as a prelude to his climax. Indeed, Mr. Brown began to make his customary announcement. “My Critical Period is—”

  Daisy removed his penis from her mouth and pinched it firmly at the base. “Not so fast, Quick Draw. Take your time and enjoy it.”

  A look of pure astonishment came over Mr. Brown’s face. It appeared as if his climax had been stopped before it could fully begin. Still holding his penis at the base, Daisy ran her tongue up the length of it, and Mr. Brown shuddered in ecstasy.

  Miss Fortescue clasped both hands against her cheeks, which had grown quite red. She was utterly shocked by this grotesque display, and Gregory felt an urge to step in front of her and block her view. He restrained himself, however. Miss Fortescue was a scientist, as was he, and this was a sexual act that they had not studied. He had better take advantage of the opportunity.

  “Miss Daisy,” he said. “Would you please explain what you are doing?”

  What does it look like I’m doing? That was what Daisy was thinking, but mindful of who was paying for her time here today, she answered more politely. “It’s called a below job because, you see, I’m below. Did you want me to stop?”

  “Please, no!” Mr. Brown gasped.

  “You may continue,” Gregory said. “I just want you to describe what you are doing as you do it.”

  And how was she supposed to talk with her mouth full? Ridiculous man! Then Daisy glanced at Miss Fortescue, who had covered her face with her hands and was peeping out through her fingers. Ah, Daisy understood now. Miss Fortescue didn’t know how to do a man with her mouth, and the doctor wanted her to learn. Well, Daisy was nothing if not helpful.

  “You can give him a lick up and down,” she said, demonstrating. “And go round his knob.”

  Mr. Brown moaned and trembled. The head of his penis had gone very dark, it was so swollen with desire.

  “You can pop him in and out and suck on him a little.” Daisy worked on Mr. Brown’s member like it was a child’s candy sucker, her lips caressing his sensitive skin as his head went in and out of her mouth. Occasionally, Gregory could see Daisy’s cheeks compress as she sucked. To his surprise, Gregory was aroused by the sight. The Reminder prevented him from getting fully hard, but it was clear that some part of him found this oral sexual conduct more exciting than distasteful.

  “Then there’s this.” Daisy opened her mouth wide and slid it along Mr. Brown’s shaft until all of him was inside and her lips were pressed against the hair at his base.

  Elspeth peered aghast between her fingers. She did not know where Daisy could be holding Mr. Brown’s entire length, unless she put it down her throat. She was reminded of the sword swallowers she’d seen at carnivals.

  While Mr. Brown’s eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned shamelessly, Daisy slid him out of her mouth and grinned at Elspeth. “That takes a bit of practice so you don’t gag. A little at a time is the way to do it.”

  To her shock, Elspeth realized that Daisy’s commentary was directed at her. The girl was instructing her. Immediately she turned to Dr. Gregory. “I will not put Mr. Brown’s penis in my mouth.”

  “I would never ask you to,” Gregory replied, appalled at the idea. Still, curiosity drove him to ask Daisy, “What happens when he ejaculates?”

  Daisy didn’t know that word, but she could guess what it meant. “I’ll swallow it if the john pays me extra, but mostly I do this.”

  While Gregory and Miss Fortescue each cringed at the idea of swallowing Mr. Brown’s ejaculate, Daisy unclamped her fingers from the base of the young man’s penis, gave him a few strokes of her hand, and Mr. Brown made an outcry. He didn’t even have time to announce his “Critical Period” before he erupted with great gouts of white ejaculate. Gregory stepped back to avoid being spattered.

  Mr. Brown collapsed to his knees and then lay down on his back, one arm thrown across his face. “Are you all right, Mr. Brown?” Dr. Gregory asked with some alarm.

  The young man raised a hand and waved it weakly as if to say he was not harmed but would remain on the floor for now, if no one minded.

  Daisy, meanwhile, stood up and tucked her breasts inside her corset, feeling highly amused. If a below job shocked them, she wondered what would happen if she described taking it in the rear entry. One of them might faint, and not necessarily the girl.

  “Do you do that often?” Gregory asked, thinking it must be a very exotic and unusual form of sexual contact.

  “Four or five times a day,” Daisy informed him cheerfully. “It costs a lot less than fucking.”

  Gregory suddenly felt very naïve indeed—and foolish in front of his assistants. Here was something prostitutes were paid to do multiple times a day, every day, and he had assumed it was a bizarre fetish, if it existed at all.

  The truth was, young Ivan Gregory had grown up in a cloistered and unhappy household where sex was never spoken of and his very first introduction to it was at the age of fourteen when he caught his father having coitus with a maid. The elder Gregory had told his son that “a man has needs” and that since his mother did not enjoy womanly duties, she was happy to have him indulge his needs elsewhere. That was when Gregory’s interest in studying sexual arousal first began, but his experience was limited to what he himself had devised. The only woman he had ever touched was Miss Fortescue. He had never had sexual congress.

  Nor the below job which apparently could be had from the nearest hedge whore at a discount.

  Therefore, feeling discouraged and overwhelmed by everything he did not know, he covered his discomfort by helping the still moaning Mr. Brown to his feet while Miss Daisy redressed herself. “Thank you for your invaluable assistance today,” he said. “Miss Fortescue will provide you with your payment.” Quietly urging Mr. Brown to put his member back inside his trousers, he hustled the young man away.

  Elspeth watched them go. Daisy buttoned up the front of her dress, and Elspeth handed her the outrageous hat. She went to fetch the payment from where Dr. Gregory had left it, hesitated, and then—after checking to see that the men were out of earshot—took up a pen and wrote a few lines on paper. When she handed the payment to Daisy with the paper on top, the girl looked up at her, startled.

  “That is my address,” Elspeth said in an undertone. “I was hoping you would do me the courtesy of visiting me at my lodging house this evening. I—I have a few questions I would like to ask you.”

  Daisy was not surprised she had questions, but her request was highly unusual. “You could ask me now, miss.”

  Elspeth glanced over her shoulder. “I cannot.”

  Daisy’s curiosity was piqued. These three people were strange birds. Nevertheless … “I work in the evenings, miss.”

  “You have been well paid today. Perhaps you could take an evening of leisure. My room has a small gas burner. I will make us a warm supper.”

  Daisy had actually intended to take the evening off, but she’d been planning to soak her feet, not visit ladies in their boarding rooms. She wondered if Miss Fortescue even knew what she was asking of Daisy. “You don’t want the likes of me at your lodging, miss. Your landlady won’t let me in, and she’s liable to throw you out for bringing me there.”

  “Let me worry about my landlady,” Elspeth said. “Imagine what she’d say if she knew where I worked and what I did here, but she has no idea, and I shall tell her you are my guest and that is that.”

  ***

  In truth, Elspeth was a little worried about her landlady, who hovered in the parlor of the boarding house to get a peek at Elspeth’s visitor. When the doorbell rang, the woman moved faster than one would expect of someone her age and reached the entrance before Elspeth. Daisy had only reluctantly agreed to come, and Elspeth feared that one fierce look might set the girl running.

  However, Daisy stood on the doorstep wearing a plain, modest dress and
a simple hat. Her face had been scrubbed clean, revealing a span of freckles bridging her nose that made her look like an innocent farm girl. It was clear that her means were modest, based on the design and fabric of her garments, but Elspeth’s landlady never suspected for a moment that she was a prostitute.

  Elspeth felt ashamed of herself for judging Daisy’s appearance at the laboratory. The girl had come wearing her working clothes, something Elspeth should have realized earlier.

  After passing the landlady’s judgmental eye, Daisy accompanied Elspeth up to her room, where Elspeth had prepared tea and a light chicken and vegetable stew. Daisy appeared ill at ease, as if she’d never been someone’s guest before and didn’t know how to behave. Rather than hammer her with questions right away, Elspeth decided to build up to that. “May I tell you about the work Dr. Gregory does at his laboratory?”

  A mischievous spark lit in the girl’s eyes. “I was wonderin’ about it.”

  While they supped on stew and tea, Elspeth explained Dr. Gregory’s study of sexual arousal and climax as a means to produce happier families. She outlined some of their experiments, which caused raised eyebrows even from Daisy, a seasoned sex worker. Elspeth’s description of the Infernal Machine prompted an exclamation of “Oh, Lordy!”

  “The one thing we do not do,” Elspeth went on to explain, “is intercourse with a man’s naked manhood. Because of the risk of getting with child. So I have never—never felt—” She could not continue. Her companion fornicated with a variety of men every day. Could she possibly understand the deprivation Elspeth felt at not having one particular man inside her?

  But Daisy did understand. “You have your eye on the professor.”

  Elspeth’s cheeks grew red. “How did you know?”

  “Well, I didn’t think it would be that tow-headed pup. Not a smart lady like you.”

  “What you did to Mr. Brown today—when you stopped him from climaxing—”

  “Oh, you mean the little pinch.” Daisy put down her tea cup and demonstrated the hold with her fingers. “Yes, that keeps them from popping off too soon. Some of them get angry if it doesn’t last long enough, and they want their money back. Sometimes they use their fists to say so.” Elspeth flinched, and Daisy regretted telling her that. “Don’t worry, miss. I know how to handle ’em. I make sure they’re satisfied, one way or the other.”

  Elspeth frowned, not liking the thought of a man using his fists on a tiny girl like Daisy, or any woman, really. But the girl turned the conversation back to the matter at hand. “The pinch isn’t much good when you’re having a bit of stiff in your snuff. Too hard to keep a tight grip on it.”

  “Are there other ways to … to …”

  “He could wear a bit of lambskin on his Jolly Roger.”

  Elspeth sighed. She had heard of such a device, but there would still be something between them.

  “There’s no foolproof way, miss,” Daisy said. “I got caught with child once, but the wee thing came too early and never took a breath. I was near death’s door from blood loss, and when I got better, the midwife said I might never catch again, and I haven’t. But lots of the girls do.”

  Elspeth’s hands tightened around her tea cup. She didn’t want to show on her face the pity she felt in her heart. She did want to ask what came of those girls and their babes, but wasn’t sure how to do so.

  Meanwhile, Daisy had moved on. She tapped her forefinger against her lips. “Hold on now, Miss Fortescue. There is something you might try …”

  “Call me Elspeth, please.”

  Daisy gave her a look that said, You know the likes of me can’t call the likes of you by your Christian name. But what she said out loud was, “I had a bloke once whose fountain always went off as soon as he poked it inside me. He never hit me, though. He was just real sad about it. I told this tart I knew named Lil, and she told me what I could do to stopper him.” Daisy grinned. “I reckon what Lil told me might work for you.”

  ***

  Three days after the harlot Miss Daisy visited the laboratory, Elliot Brown’s head was still spinning. Never in his life had Archie enjoyed such a good time, and ever since, the poor fellow had been lurching around in Elliot’s trousers demanding more of the same.

  “Please sweep the floor, Mr. Brown,” Miss Fortescue would say.

  May I have Miss Daisy’s lips around me? Archie would ask.

  “Calibrate the centrifuge, if you would, Mr. Brown,” Dr. Gregory would say.

  I would like Miss Daisy’s tongue to lick me up and down, Archie would reply.

  “Mr. Brown,” Dr. Gregory would say sternly, “how many times today do you plan on using the cylinder to bring yourself to climax?”

  And Archie would groan, Ohhhhhhhhhhh!

  Finally, on the third day, Dr. Gregory shrugged on his overcoat and informed his assistants, “I have a meeting at the bank. Miss Fortescue, there are records to be filed. Mr. Brown, there are test tubes to be cleaned.”

  “Yes, Dr. Gregory,” Miss Fortescue had promptly replied. “We will take care of those things.”

  Out of Dr. Gregory’s sight, Elliot mouthed her words mockingly. We will take care of those things. His fellow assistant had a lovely pair of ripe fruits, but she was a real bootlicker, always hanging on Dr. Gregory’s every word. Elliot didn’t know a lot, but he did know there hadn’t been a real trial in this laboratory since Miss Daisy showed Ivan Gregory he didn’t understand half the things he thought he did. Elliot wasn’t complaining, because he didn’t want to lose a job that paid him for rousing Archie and releasing his pearly joy nearly every day. But he did know that Dr. Gregory had seemed despondent and dejected after the trial with Miss Daisy, and this was interrupting the thing Elliot loved best about his employment.

  However, shortly after Dr. Gregory had departed, Miss Fortescue called Elliot over to their testing area. “I have a trial for you, Mr. Brown,” she said, indicating that she wanted him to recline on what they called “the Bench.”

  “I thought there were none scheduled for today,” he said.

  She gave him a secretive little smile. “This is an experiment of my own devising. Dr. Gregory does not know about it.”

  Well, things were looking up, and one of those things was Archie, already stirring. Elliot straddled the horizontal portion of the Bench and rested his back against the inclined portion. “Do you want me to take Arch—er, my member out?”

  “If you would, please.”

  Elliot agreeably unfastened his trousers and lifted out his manhood. Archie was just waking up, swelling and stiffening. Miss Fortescue opened the restraints, and when Elliot placed his wrists inside, Archie bobbed in delight. Elliot suspected that there was something deeply perverse about the arousal he felt when his hands were restrained, but since this was one of the requirements of his employment, he would simply have to live with it.

  From a pocket in her dress, Miss Fortescue removed a thin leather strap with a small buckle on the end of it. Then she scooped up Elliot’s ball sack and slipped the strap beneath it. “Whoa!” he exclaimed. “Careful with the fellas, Miss Fortescue!”

  “I am always careful,” she said coolly, wrapping the leather strap up and around the base of his erect member. Elliot watched with mild concern—and a shiver of pleasure—as she threaded the end of the strap through the buckle and tightened it. This action pulled his scrotum up, pressing it against the underside of his penis. He sucked in his breath, and she asked, “Is this painful?”

  “No, but I think that’s tight enough.”

  “I’m not sure that it is.” She pulled the strap through two more notches.

  Elliot yelped, but after a moment, he realized it didn’t hurt. He felt squeezed, and indeed, his balls were bulging over the leather strap. Archie was at his full girth and height. Elliot’s pulse pounded. “What is the nature of this experiment?” he asked while Miss Fortescue secured the buckle.

  “I’m going to see if I can make you cum.”

  Miss Fortescue
’s use of that dirty word sent a white hot lance of lust through Elliot’s belly and down the length of Archie. The head of his manhood flared, clear fluid leaking from his tip.

  Miss Fortescue picked up the vessel in which Dr. Gregory stored the lubricating gel, an invention of his own devising. It was kept on a steam-powered burner, on low, so that it was always warm. Miss Fortescue poured a handful into her palm. Elliot sighed in anticipation and leaned his head against the cushioned incline, realizing what she was going to do next.

  Her fingers closed around Archie—warm, wet, and slippery. Elliot moaned as she ran those fingers over his length, spreading the gel all over him. Then she tightened her grip and moved her hand up and down.

  Elspeth watched Mr. Brown’s reactions carefully. He was as aroused as she’d ever seen him, his manhood upright and as hard as a pole, veins bulging beneath the taut skin.

  “Makes ‘em harder,” Daisy had said when she described tying a string around a man’s genitals. “And they last longer. That’s what you want, miss. The gent to last long enough for you to get your fill of him and be off before he pops.”

  Mr. Brown certainly looked as if he were in a state close to orgasm. “How near are you?” Elspeth asked. “Are you ready to climax?”

  “Yes,” he breathed. “I mean, no. I’m not sure. It feels so good. I want to …”

  She rubbed her fingers over the swollen head of his penis. “Am I doing this correctly? Is there something else I can do that would pleasure you more?”

  “I don’t suppose you’d do what Miss Daisy did?”

  “Your negative supposition is correct. I will not.” Elspeth removed her hand and wiped it clean with a towel. So far, her device seemed a success, but her scientific mind had picked up a problem with the procedure. She had never stimulated Mr. Brown with her hand before. Perhaps it was not the right sensation to bring him to orgasm.

  “I’ll return in a moment,” she said.