“Hello, Shelley,” the doctor greeted her, walking towards them and feeling her forehead with the back of his hand as he smiled warmly at her.
Shelley immediately relaxed. “Hello,” she smiled at the elderly man, with wiry silver hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and kind eyes, which were surrounded by tiny wrinkles.
As the doctor took his hand away, Henry lowered Shelley to the floor, standing her in front of Dr Phillips. Shelley anxiously watched Henry as he walked back towards the door. Suddenly tense, fearful that he might be leaving her alone with the doctor, she pleaded, “Don’t go!”
“Calm down, sweetheart. I’m going to stay right here with you,” he said reassuringly, as he closed the door and immediately returned to her. Taking her hand, he guided her towards his double bed. Shelley relaxed once more and gazed dreamily at the bed, hoping that she might one day share it with him.
“If you’ll just bare your bottom and bend over the end of the bed for me, I just need to take your temperature,” Dr Phillips told her, peering over the top of his glasses as she stared at him open-mouthed. “Come on, be a good girl, don’t be shy,” he said, smiling and taking her elbow. He pressed his hand on her back and pushing her resistant body towards the bed. “Come on, I’m a doctor, I’ve seen it all before,” he smiled.
“Nooooo,” Shelley shrieked, stepping away from him. Her eyes widened in shock when Henry immediately gripped her wrist and propelled her forward, sending her tumbling over the end of the bed. He grasped the hem of her nightdress and tugged it sharply upwards, baring her behind to the doctor. Her cheeks flushed as she remembered Henry had taken her bloomers off earlier, and her blush deepened when she realised her butt would show evidence of her recent strapping.
“Stop, let me go,” Shelley screamed, flailing her arms and legs around in a desperate bid to escape. She opened her mouth to protest further, yelling loudly when Henry landed his hand hard on her bottom. As he pressed one hand down on her back and the other hand rained sharp smacks onto her squirming backside, Shelley’s cheeks reddened in embarrassment. She couldn’t believe Henry was spanking her in front of the doctor. Gritting her teeth, she determined not to show herself up any further.
“Are you ready to behave,” demanded Henry, “or do you need to feel my belt again?” Shelley shook her head frantically. “I’ll be good,” she promised, trembling when Henry sat on the edge of the bed and held her in position, pressing down firmly on her shoulders.
She gasped as the doctor’s rough hands parted her buttocks, and she covered her face with her hands when he held her cheeks wide apart for several seconds before releasing them. She squirmed with embarrassment when her butt cheeks were parted once more and she felt his gloved and well lubricated finger slide deep into her bottom.
“Noooooooooo,” she wailed, but her protests were in vain as the doctor continued to probe her bottom hole very thoroughly. As he added a second finger and stretched her anus uncomfortably, Shelley wiggled her bottom and begged Henry to make him stop. Henry moved one hand to the back of her neck, applying firm pressure to hold her still, and his other hand gripped her trembling hand. As he whispered encouragement into Shelley’s ear and urged her to be a good girl, she tried hard to relax, but it was impossible with this stranger’s fingers thrust into such a private part of her anatomy.
Eventually the doctor removed his fingers and Shelley froze, immediately feeling the thermometer slide into her tight anus. It was pure instinct to kick her legs in a futile attempt to dislodge the rigid stick, and she shrieked in pain when the doctor smacked her thigh sharply.
“You naughty little girl,” he scolded. “No wonder your bottom’s so red if this is how you behave. Now lie still or you’ll hurt yourself, silly girl.” Shelley’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment. He was making her feel about five years old. Frustrated, she buried her face into the bedcovers and clutched Henry’s hand, hoping Dr Phillips would hurry up.
“Now hold still or I’ll take you across my knee,” the doctor warned. Shelley gasped, wondering whether it was his intent to take her across his lap to spank her, to take her temperature, or possibly both. Having no desire to find out, she obediently lay as still as she could.
After several long minutes, the doctor finally removed the thermometer from her bottom. He sighed deeply. “It is a little high,” he told Henry, “but hopefully it’ll be back to normal in a day or two. Call me if it isn’t, or if she displays any other symptoms. I’ll prescribe some medicine that you’ll need to give her before she goes to bed tonight.”
“Thank you, doctor. I’ll show you out. And you, young lady,” Henry said, turning to Shelley, “can stay exactly where you are. I’ll be back to deal with you in a minute, and God help you if you dare to move one inch. I expect better behaviour from you, especially when I’ve already had to warm your bottom once today.” Shelley’s cheeks flushed at his words.
She swallowed anxiously when the doctor and Henry left the room. Closing her eyes, she remembered how bad it had been when Henry had probed her bottom hole, but it had been ten times worse when this stranger had done it—and he had not been as gentle as Henry, she noted. She was distressed that her behaviour had once more angered Henry, and she wondered what further punishment she had earned.
Shelley trembled as she waited, bent across the foot of Henry’s bed, her bare buttocks stinging. She desperately wanted to reach back and rub, but she did not dare for fear of being caught and chastised further.
Several minutes later the door opened and quickly closed again. Henry sat on the bed and rested his hand on her bottom, and Shelley involuntarily shuddered. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Yes, and so you should be,” he told her sternly. “I can’t believe your behaviour in front of the doctor. You certainly won’t act like that in future, young lady.” Henry stood up and headed into his en suite bathroom, leaving a trembling Shelley hoping he hadn’t gone to fetch the large wooden bath brush.
Whenever she cleaned his bathroom, she eyed the brush cautiously. She had only once felt the sting of this formidable implement, when Henry had caught her reading a magazine in there when she was supposed to be cleaning it. She had howled when he took her across his lap and paddled her over her skirt, but her excuse that she thought he wouldn’t be home for hours only added to her punishment as her bloomers had been swiftly whisked down and the heavy wooden brush applied a dozen times to her bare, squirming backside.
Shelley trembled and clutched at the bedding as she heard Henry open the bathroom cabinet and move a few things around. When she heard the water running, she wondered what he was doing, but even when she raised her head and looked towards the bathroom, she was no clearer as she could only see his back.
Turning her head away, she waited and hoped that whatever he had in store for her would not be too awful. At least he didn’t appear to have collected the bath brush, which still hung on its hook on the bathroom wall.
Closing her eyes as she heard his footsteps moving towards her, Shelley flinched when Henry immediately parted her buttocks. She tried to clench her cheeks together, but was dismayed when Henry pressed insistently against her tight anus until she eventually relaxed enough to allow him to push something into her bottom. It was about the same width as the thermometer but seemed quite flexible, and Shelley panicked when Henry slowly fed it deep into her rectum. She raised her upper body and looked over her shoulder. Her mouth instantly fell open and her eyes widened when she focused on the large enema bag, hanging on a stand, with a long tube leading towards her upturned bottom. She recalled a similar item from her childhood, when she had been very unwell and her mother had given her a couple of enemas. She had absolutely hated them and had resisted, but was further humiliated when her mother had called on her nanny to assist.
Shelley was about to protest when Henry pressed his hand down on her lower back, reached up with his other hand and opened the valve.
Shelley immediately yelped and squirmed desperately when the warm soapy
water started to flow quickly into her. “Hold still,” Henry scolded, smacking his hand down firmly at the base of each butt cheek. Shelley gasped, clenching her buttocks as the nozzle seemed to move deeper into her and the water started to fill her. She wiggled her bottom from side to side, frantically trying to dislodge the nozzle or stop the flow of water. Her attempts were futile and eventually Henry shut off the valve. Although she felt some relief that the water flow had stopped, her tummy was bloated and she felt uncomfortable with so much fluid sloshing around inside her. She also had an urge to use the toilet.
“Get right up onto the bed,” Henry told her, helping her to crawl up onto the centre of his bed. “Lie on your side.” Shelley trembled as he guided her into position, encouraging her to pull her knees up towards her chest. He leaned forward and opened the clamp again, and Shelley jumped when the soapy water continued to flow into her. She clutched her swelling tummy and stared at Henry as he again stopped the water.
“Lie on your back,” he told her, helping her to roll over, before starting the water once more. He immediately hooked his arm behind her knees and lifted her, raising her bottom from the bed. Shelley’s cheeks flushed and she closed her eyes, unable to look at him as the warm soapy water continued to fill her, making her bowels churn uncomfortably.
Shelley felt a small amount of relief when Henry told her the bag was empty. She tried to get up, but he put a hand against her chest to stop her.
“No, I want you to think long and hard about your behaviour today. You really showed yourself up. You’re lucky Dr Phillips didn’t do this to you,” he added, rubbing her swollen tummy gently. “It was his suggestion that a good, strong, soapsuds enema might calm you down, and may also help to lower your temperature.” Shelley blushed when she thought of the kind-faced doctor ordering such a humiliating procedure. She was relieved he had not stayed to witness her ordeal.
“I’m sorry. It was embarrassing enough when you took my temperature, but he’s a stranger.”
“Oh, Shelley, he’s a doctor. He examines people every day. You have no need to be embarrassed with him.”
“But his fingers were too big. He hurt me,” she whimpered, doubling up in pain as a cramp hit her. Henry kissed her gently on the cheek. “Well, it’s all over now,” he whispered, reaching between her legs and carefully removing the nozzle from her bottom. “Be a good girl next time and he won’t have to be so rough.”
Shelley gritted her teeth and squirmed, her tummy doing cartwheels. Raising her upper body from the bed, she clutched her bloated stomach, terrified she was going to have an accident on Henry’s bed. This time she was relieved when he helped her to sit up, put his arm around her waist and guided her slowly towards the bathroom.
Turning her back towards the toilet, Henry pushed her down into a sitting position. Shelley whimpered when her burning sit spots pressed hard against the cool toilet seat. She squirmed uncomfortably, doubling up in pain as a cramp hit her. Henry sat on the edge of his bathtub and rubbed her back gently.
“Henry, I need to go,” she gasped, staring at him as she silently implored him to leave her alone.
“That’s the idea of an enema,” he smiled, lifting her nightdress and rubbing her swollen tummy.
“Please, leave me alone,” she begged, looking into his eyes, her cheeks reddening. She was dismayed when he shook his head.
Henry took her face in his hands and knelt in front of her. “I’m very fond of you,” he told her, stroking her cheeks and smiling encouragingly when another cramp hit her and she leant forward and rocked gently. “But I will not tolerate bad behaviour. If you show yourself up, I will embarrass you with humiliating punishments. I’m staying, so you’d better get used to it, young lady.”
Shelley clenched her buttocks together desperately and rocked back and forth on the seat. “Please go away,” she whined. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, her hands frantically pushing him away from her, but Henry stayed on his knees, shaking his head as he held her face in his hands.
Shelley groaned in distress as she desperately tried to hold onto the irritating liquid. She trembled as she began to perspire heavily, and when she felt a bead of sweat trickle down her spine, she shivered. “Please,” she groaned, but the next cramp proved to be too much and Shelley cried out in distress as her bowels refused to hold onto the soapy solution any longer. She blushed when Henry wrapped his arms around her, rubbed her back, and whispered encouragement to her. She tried to push him away as she sobbed at the humiliation of doing something so private in front of him, but when a second expulsion took her by surprise, she stopped fighting and clung to Henry as sobs wracked her body.
After the longest and most humiliating fifteen minutes of Shelley’s life, she was both relieved and embarrassed when Henry pulled her up from the toilet seat, bent her over the edge of the bathtub and carefully wiped her bottom clean. He quickly stood her up, took her by the hand, and led her into his bedroom, where he tucked her into his bed. She blushed when he kissed her cheek and told her to get some sleep.
Stretched out face down in his big bed, her hands protectively cupping her bottom cheeks, Shelley quickly drifted off into a deep sleep, absolutely exhausted from the morning’s activities.
* * *
When Shelley woke several hours later, she was shocked to find Henry sitting beside her, the bedcovers pulled back, her nightdress raised, and the thermometer once more sticking out of her bottom hole.
“Hold still,” Henry warned, as she started to rise from the bed, “unless you want another enema?” Shelley flopped back down and lay perfectly still, closing her eyes as she recalled the humiliation of having to expel an enema in front of him. That was one thing she never ever wanted to repeat.
When Henry slid the thermometer out of her bottom, she relaxed once more and was pleased when he told her that her temperature was back to normal.
“Come on, let’s go and get you something to eat,” he said, lifting her out of bed.
Shelley looked up at him, her lip quivering as she lowered her eyes. “Please, can we stay in your room a bit longer?”
Henry smiled and carried her across to a chair in the corner of his room, where he sat down and cradled her in his lap. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her softly. Shelley smiled and responded to his kiss. All the embarrassment of the morning was suddenly forgotten as she melted into his warm embrace and vowed never to do anything that would earn her such a harsh punishment ever again.
Chapter Eleven
After several minutes, Henry managed to pry Shelley’s arms from around his neck and lifted her up onto her feet. She immediately averted her eyes, still ashamed of the humiliating way he had punished her. Her cheeks coloured once more as he took her hand, kissed her on the cheek, and led her downstairs.
Immediately after Shelley walked into the dining room with Henry, Jessica burst into the room. Despite Shelley’s morose mood, she couldn’t help smiling. Clara followed close behind, carrying two plates. She handed one to Jessica, who proudly offered it to Shelley. Shelley looked at the sandwiches, frowned and glanced questioningly at Clara. “No worms,” grinned Clara, as Shelley gratefully accepted it. Jessica took the other plate from Clara and handed it to Henry. “Oh, thank you,” he said, crouching down and kissing his little girl on the cheek. Lifting the top off the sandwich, he peered inside. Shelley giggled when Jessica scowled and placed her hands on her hips. “Daddy,” she shouted, her frown deepening. “No worms!”
Shelley watched Henry ruffle his daughter’s hair affectionately. “Thank you, these look beautiful,” he praised her, and a huge grin returned to Jessica’s face. She quickly grabbed Clara’s hand and tugged her towards the door. “Me and Clara get some worms,” she squealed with delight, leading a very unenthusiastic Clara out into the garden.
Shelley sat down beside Henry and ate her sandwiches in silence, smiling and nodding politely when the butler served them tea. When she had finished eating, she reached across and took Henry’s ha
nd. “I’m truly sorry,” she whispered, looking up into his face. She breathed a sigh of relief when Henry smiled and took her face in his hands, leaning forward to kiss her. Shelley wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him as his hands wound their way around her waist and he pulled her closer to him.
“Daddyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy,” squealed Jessica, suddenly bursting into the room. As she rushed towards them with her arms outstretched, Henry and Shelley reluctantly moved apart.
“You kissed Shelley,” she grinned, clambering onto Henry and bouncing up and down on his lap. “Daddy kissed Shelley,” she squealed to a flustered-looking Clara, who appeared seconds later. “He really did,” she squealed.
“That’s nice,” Clara replied coolly, taking Jessica’s hand and frantically trying to pull her away from her father.
“Come on, let’s go brush your teeth,” Clara urged, tugging on the little girl’s hand once more. “No,” Jessica pouted stubbornly, clutching her daddy’s hand. Henry looked at Jessica with raised eyebrows. “Why do you need to brush your teeth?” Jessica scowled and looked to the floor. Shaking his head, Henry turned to Clara.
“I’m sorry,” Clara sighed. “She’s been eating soil. I did try to stop her.”
“Jessica,” he said mock-sternly, ruffling her hair. “We don’t eat soil, do we?” Jessica frowned and turned away. “Don’t ignore Daddy.” Henry’s voice was stern and Shelley immediately tensed, recognising the warning tone. She gasped when Jessica jumped down onto the floor and stamped her foot. It was so out of character for the normally well-behaved child. Before she could make another movement, Henry’s hand had closed around her tiny wrist and a stunned Shelley watched as he pulled her towards him. He looked at her sternly and Jessica pouted. Holding his other hand in the air, Henry raised his index finger. “One,” he said quietly. “Don’t make Daddy count to three,” he warned.
The Delinquent Bride Page 12
