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Alex smiled as he heard the bell above the door jangle. It was the end of the day, cases upon cases of important - but often rather dull - injuries and maladies had flooded into his practice since the morning, which he did not mind, but they were not nearly as diverting as the issue now brought to bear.
‘Mr. Beckwith,’ he said, warmly, standing to greet the tall, slightly built man now standing in his doorway, ‘it is good to see you again.’
Thomas Beckwith - rather a bore, in Alex’s humble opinion - grunted in return, his walrus-esque whiskers moving with the force of his breath. ‘I wish I could say the same, doctor,’ he grumbled, with a voice not unlike a handful of freezing gravel to the face, and looked over his shoulder with a frown, ‘will you come here, Martha.’
Alex smiled softly, as his patient, one Miss Martha Beckwith, entered the office. Her face was fixed in an irritable frown, pale gold brows furrowed at the centre, but - much to Alex’s delight - her expression lightened just a touch when her soft, green eyes met his own.
‘Miss Beckwith,’ Alex took her outstretched hand with a smile, shaking it gently, ‘it is good to see you, too.’
Miss Beckwith raised an eyebrow, and her eyes twinkled a little as she gave his hand a squeeze before the familiar mask returned - brows and mouth both turned down in annoyance, ‘I wish I could say the same, sir.’
Mr. Beckwith rounded on her with a glare, his knuckles turning white around the head of his cane, hissing ‘ Manners , Martha,’ as she appraised Alex with indifferent eyes.
It was not the first time Mr. Beckwith had brought his daughter to Alex’s door, nor the second, nor the third. Mercifully the man was not bright enough to twig what exactly the nature of his daughter’s treatment entailed, and did not begrudge Alex several attempts to cure her of what the irritating man called her ‘problem’.
Beckwith, still frowning, nodded his head apologetically to Alex, ‘As you can see, doctor, she is hardly improved.’
Alex smiled in return, a picture of medical sympathy despite the rather heated look Miss Beckwith was giving him, ‘It is a difficult malady to truly cure, sir, as you and I can both see, but that does not mean we should renege on Miss Beckwith’s treatment, I am sure she will be the very picture of health in good time.’
Beckwith grumbled again, his large, drooping brows giving him the appearance of a terribly downtrodden bird, ‘Of course, of course, doctor, I shall leave Martha with you, then? No need for me to sit around here waiting for you to deal with her, is there?’
On ‘here’, Beckwith looked around the room with a disdainful eye, taking in the comfortable chaise longue and settee, the small desk, the rich, dark colours of the wallpaper, and Alex swallowed the urge to raise an eyebrow. The man was an insufferable snob, yes, but he paid well, and his daughter was fast becoming one of Alex’s favourite patients. He could not afford to offend him.
‘You are welcome to leave Miss Beckwith with me, sir, if you return in one hour we shall see what can be done, shall we not, miss?’ Alex looked to Miss Beckwith with a soft, entirely innocent smile, which she returned in an amusingly ironic fashion, her lips twisting and her eyes squinting just a touch.
‘We shall, sir,’ she replied, going on her tiptoes to kiss her father on his bristly cheek, ‘goodbye father.’
Beckwith, seemingly eager to leave the small office, said his goodbyes briskly, and swung the door shut behind him, leaving Miss Beckwith and Alex alone.
‘We shall , sir,’ Alex repeated, light and mocking, ‘you’re doing an excellent job at irritating him, you know?’
Miss Beckwith - Martha , now they were alone - grinned, a bright, fox-like thing, her teeth glinting in the soft lamplight.
‘Well that is rather the idea, is it not, Alex ?’
Even her voice changed, when her father was not in the room. No longer high and wispy, it took on a lovely, husky quality that tripped over Alex’s skin like a warm bath. He chuckled, quietly, and held out a hand for her to take, ‘I suppose it is, my dear.’
Martha settled herself on the examination table with a grin, which Alex returned, his face crinkling mischievously in the dimmed light. It was a familiar dance, Martha unlacing her boots and setting them to one side, Alex cleaning his hands at the small sink, both circling around one another until they were quite ready.
Alex stood beside her with a smile, and brushed an errant, strawberry blonde curl out of her face. She was a terribly lovely young woman, all soft, freckled skin and slender curves, her hair curling sweetly and her eyes twinkling with a fierce wit and intelligence that Alex could not help but find terribly appealing. Her father would never allow her to marry a doctor, much less one such as himself - the horrid business in the Arctic had done his reputation no favours - but on occasion, Alex could allow himself to dream.
‘How have you been, my dear?’ he asked, quietly, moving slowly around the table until he was standing between her legs, ‘any symptoms or problems that you ought to tell your doctor? Besides the obvious, of course.’
‘Of course,’ Martha parroted back with a charmingly crooked grin, ‘there is something , doctor, that I think you ought to be aware of, you know?’
‘Oh? And what might that be, Miss Beckwith?’
This, too, was familiar. The push and pull of their conversation, the ebb and flow, flirtatious without becoming entirely incriminating, but enough to set Alex’s heart rate a little higher than usual.
‘Well, doctor, I am having a rather troubling sensation,’ she purred, slowly tugging up the hem of her dress to reveal her petticoats, ‘it is terribly difficult to get anything done, you see, when it occurs.’
Alex forced his face into a concerned frown, nodding soberly as he traced the hem of her light, summery skirts with the tip of his finger, ‘Oh I am sorry to hear that, miss, and where do you find this sensation originates? If you do not mind my asking?’
Martha’s eyes twinkled, as she looked at him, her mouth turned down in exaggerated upset.
‘It is terribly embarrassing, sir, I can hardly say without fear of your judgement,’ she batted her eyelids delicately, every part the sweet, bashful girl, ripe for the picking, ‘you know I hold you in such dreadfully high regard, after all.’
Alex nodded sympathetically, and gently took a hold of one of Martha’s delicate ankles, slowly pulling it to one side so as to step a little closer between her legs, ‘I understand completely, my dear, but I am a medical man, you know, and nothing you say here will garner harsh judgment on my part, I assure you.’
Martha smiled shyly up at him, spreading her legs to accommodate his body, letting him stand so he could feel the warmth radiating from beneath her skirts. He breathed in, softly, inhaling the scent of her - floral and delicate, with a sharp tang of musk from her drawers - and briefly finding himself enchanted by the coquettish, nervous look on her face.
‘Are you sure, doctor? Only it is a rather private place, somewhere I would not expect a man to know of,’ she fluttered her eyelashes again, smirking as Alex brushed his hands over the soft fabric of her drawers, the silk of her stockings, ‘but you are a medical man, I suppose, and always so kind to me…’
‘A terrible hardship, I assure you, miss,’ Alex breathed out, his hands trailing a little closer to the heat of her core, a pale patch of moisture already beginning to show through the fabric, ‘but I am here to assist you, of course, in any way I can. You must tell me where this sensation originates, or else I fear I may not be successful in my treatment.’
Martha sighed, softly, as Alex brought his hands to rest on either side of her cunt, his thumbs pressing firmly against the outer labia and spreading her open through her drawers.
‘It’s - oh, Alex - at, at the head of my - oh I can hardly say it,’ her voice was rough, hitching sweetly as Alex pulled her drawers open, tracing a line through her slickness with the tip of his index finger.
She was all but dripping already, poor girl, but Alex had never let an opportunity to tease pass him by.
‘Say it, my dear,’ he murmured, pressing gently inside her cunt, moving his finger in small, circular motions, ‘say the word, and I will assist you in your little problem , hm?’
Martha gasped, as he stroked the inside of her cunt, nowhere near enough to bring her to crisis, but enough to draw a slick, steady line of wetness from her, pooling on the examination table, soaking her drawers beautifully. She twitched around him, the soft, heated muscles of her body fluttering as he worked.
‘My cunt , you little tease,’ Martha whimpered, pushing her hips forward so as to impale herself on Alex’s finger, ‘at the head of my cunt , now will you please do something about it, doctor, or must I beg?’
Alex chuckled, reaching up to wipe the sweat from her brow before plunging two more fingers inside her, stretching her cunt out sweetly enough for her legs to begin to tremble, ‘Of course I will do something about it, my dear Miss Beckwith, you need only ask.’
He crooked his fingers firmly, rubbing up against the slick, hot walls of her cunt with a chuckle as she began to shiver beneath him. It was rare, for him to truly treat women for hysteria - privately he thought it a nonsensical condition, but he was not averse to the methods supposed to help with it - but he took great pleasure in assisting the occasional patient who was brought to his door with a ‘serious case’ of the malady. Every woman brought to him - who was alleged to have the condition - also seemed to take great pleasure in his ministrations, though they, of course, did not admit to this outside of his office.
Martha whimpered gently, her mouth falling open as he sped up the gentle pressure of his fingers, and he smiled down at her, smoothing her hair from her face as her hips jerked upwards, grinding his fingers into her soft, wet cunt.
‘Is this what you were hoping for, my dear?’ Alex purred, pushing his thumb upwards to massage her clitoris.
Martha, her head thrown back, her eyes closed, nodded quickly, ‘ There , Alex - just there - Christ alive your hands …’
He sped up his movements then, rubbing small, quick circles over the wonderful pearl above her cunt, grinding his fingers up and in until Martha’s body was twitching and shivering, wracked with the pleasure he was wringing from her. It was an intoxicating sensation, in truth, pulling these delightful moans and movements from such a beautiful creature, and as he felt her cunt clench around his fingers he did not stop.
Her back arched and bowed in turn as she reached her release, her mouth wide and keening in such a lovely manner that Alex could not resist reaching down to kiss her, brushing his tongue over her plush lips as he fucked her through her peak, his fingers only slowing as she began to whine into his mouth, gasping with overstimulation.
‘You’re a devil, Doctor McDonald,’ Martha sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply.
‘There is no need to be rude, Miss Beckwith,’ Alex chuckled in return, easing his fingers from her cunt and rubbing soft circles over her entrance, causing her body to twitch in his arms.
‘Perhaps I would not be so rude if you had truly cured me of my malady, sir?’
Martha grinned up at him, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint that Alex knew all too well. She was far from done with him yet.
‘I was not aware you were so wise in matters of a medical nature, my dear,’ Alex returned her grin, pressing against her slick, soft cunt until her eyes fluttered shut and her legs trembled slightly, ‘do you not believe yourself cured?’
Martha swatted him on the arm, laughing, schooling her terribly pretty features into a mask of sincere concern, ‘I do not believe myself cured, doctor, I still feel positively dreadful , you know, my mood is all a-flutter.’
‘That’s not all that’s a-flutter, Miss Beckwith.’
Alex snorted as his unruly patient smacked him on the arse, bending down to kiss her again.
‘So you will not continue my treatment then, doctor?’ Martha asked, her face a picture of virginal innocence, despite the sweat beading freely on her brow.
‘Well, my dear Martha,’ Alex murmured, removing his hand from between her legs and lapping at the translucent, musky slick of her body, meeting her gaze and sucking his fingers into his mouth with a soft groan, ‘I never said that.’
It was Martha’s turn to snort, now, and she grabbed a hold of his wrist with a devilish grin, tugging his fingers down to lick at them herself, brushing her tongue over the webbing like a kitten with a bowl of milk, sighing as she tasted herself. Of the few women Alex has treated for hysteria - or whatever problem of the mood their families decide they have - Martha has taken to it with even more relish than most.
She even pouted, as he pulled his fingers away.
‘Now, now, my dear, I need this hand to continue your treatment, and you do wish for me to continue, do you not?’
Martha rolled her eyes, reaching up to tug gently at his hair in the manner he so enjoys, pulling a groan from his throat, ‘ Yes , I wish for you to continue, you cheeky bastard.’
‘Excellent, Miss Beckwith.’
He pressed his fingers back into the warm, welcoming channel of her cunt, causing her to gasp softly, and repositioned himself between her legs, kneeling on the cool, tiled floor to watch as he gently fucked his fingers in and out of her, flicking the pad of his thumb over her clit with a soft chuckle.
‘Such an eager young lady, are you not, my dear? A worse case of this disease I have never seen,’ Alex said, softly, pressing a kiss to the inside of her knee, covered in the pale silk of her stocking.
‘Oh yes , doctor,’ Martha replied, the broad grin upon her face evident in her tone, ‘I am terribly sick with it, I think, such a horrible malady.’
Alex hummed in agreement, pressing his thumb up against her clitoris - now engorged and peeking slightly from its darling little hood - and frigging her roughly, fucking his fingers up against the soft, spongy wall of her cunt until she began to clench and flutter around him once more, whimpering sweetly.
They continued like this until Martha was all but a puddle of her former self, turned to jelly on the examination table. Her hair askew, her skirts rumpled, and her cunt puffy and wet as Alex spread her folds with his fingers, tapping lightly on the small bud of her urethra before drawing a careful circle around her swollen clitoris, light as a feather.
‘These paroxysms will help your sickness, my dear Miss Beckwith, more than anything else I may prescribe you,’ he murmured, rising up from his knees to dab the sweat from her lovely, flushed face with his ‘kerchief, ‘but our time is almost up, I am afraid.’
Martha pouted again, her eyes a little glazed with lust but focussing on his face with a soft smile, ‘I do not wish our time to be up, darling Alex, and besides, are you not suffering now, also?’
Alex chuckled, following her gaze downwards towards his prick - hard as iron and throbbing almost painfully against the seam of his trousers, ‘It is a sweet suffering, my dear, and not what I am paid - by your father no less - to bring my expertise to bear upon, unlike this -’
Martha all but sobbed as he pressed four fingers into her puffy, sensitive cunt, grinding back against him with shivering, desperate desire. Alex felt his breath catch in his throat, as she reached to grab a handful of his hair once again, and whispered a single word against the shell of his ear: ‘ More .’
He arched an eyebrow, eyes glittering with amusement as Martha stared up at him, her eyes hazy and unfocussed but filled with need. This has happened before: Martha so flustered with desire that she wished for his entire hand to fill her cunt.
‘You are certain, my dear?’ he asked, gently, stroking the soft, sweet wetness of her cunt until she nodded, grinning bleary-eyed up at him.
‘I am certain, my darling doctor, fill me up until I can think of nothing but your beautiful hands.’
‘A surgeon’s hands, miss,’ Alex chuckled, his fingers disappearing inside Martha’s cunt with ease, stretching her carefully with two, then three, then four, until she was gasping and trembling beneath him.
He traced his thumb over the pink, swollen bud of her clitoris, rubbing softly against it, drawing out sweet little gasps of pleasure before tucking it carefully into the cradle of his fingers, and pushing .
Martha’s reaction was instantaneous. Her entire body melted into the table, all tension pushed out of her by the pressure of his hand in her cunt, her eyes and mouth fell open, struck dumb and delightful. Alex smiled softly down at her, pressing his hand deeper inside until he felt her cunt let him in his entirety, his hand sinking into a warm, heavenly pool of slick, swallowed whole.
He rolled his wrist gently, giving her time to acclimatise to the size of his hand within her. Martha’s whines filled the room, her chest heaving, small, soft breasts pressed up against the neckline of her dress in an exceptionally tempting manner, her legs trembling, as he began to fuck her shallowly with his hand.
It would not do for him to injure her, so despite her protests he kept his movements gentle, shallow little rolls of his wrist until her cunt was loose and fluttering around him, squeezing him slickly as he brought his free hand to the brush against her twitching clitoris. Bless her heart, but she wailed as he began to frig her properly, flickering his fingers across the head of her cunt with single-minded focus. Stroking her clitoris and fucking her with his hand until her body froze, her cunt seized around, and a flood of slick utterly drenched him, coating him from wrist to chest with her wetness as her climax appeared to remove every higher thought from her wonderful mind, leaving her nothing but a panting, lustful creature, chasing her pleasure as her hips ground down upon his hand.
Alex watched the minutes tick by, as Martha returned to herself, mindful that her father would return soon and entirely destroy his enjoyment of the afternoon. Her face was soft and sleepy, as her eyes blinked open, cheeks flushed and pink with exertion, and her lips bitten and utterly delightful. His wrist ached, his fingers were sore and pruning gently, but her expression was worth it - more than worth it, the truth be told. Such a darling girl, such a responsive thing, it would indeed be a terrible shame when Mr. Beckwith deemed her to be cured.