Hysteria

**Author's note** I have been intrigued (and repulsed) by the concept that doctors used to masturbate female patients as a means to treat hysteria. Fantasy is fantasy, however, so here is a story based in this concept.

*****

She had been referred to this doctor by her guardian. Guardian was not the right term, only the legal one; he was her uncle, a traditional conservative old man who had not wanted to take on the burden of an "old maid" such as herself. Another misleading term; she was no old maid - simply a young unmarried woman. After her parents had died, and since she was still unmarried, she was to become a ward of her uncle. As she bounced along in the carriage on the way to the doctor's office, her creamy brow wrinkled in repressed anger as she recalled how it had been - living as her uncle's ward.

Before her parents deaths, she was able to spend most of her time at the university library, studying under the scornful eyes of the library patrons. Her parents respected her independent streak, and allowed her to behave in ways which were considered most unladylike by polite society. Once she moved in with her uncle, she was expected to fit nicely into the cute pink box that her uncle - and society - had constructed for her. When her set up weekly luncheons with the local ladies; she hid in her room and refused to entertain them. When her uncle forced her to serve whiskey and cigars to his "eligible bachelor" friends, she shocked them all by daring to discussing political happenings; things that were most inappropriate for a young lady such as herself to worry about, let alone discuss. Needless to say, living with her uncle had been troublesome.

So to say she had been referred to the doctor was also incorrect. She was being forced to go. This morning when she walked out of her room, her uncle and the household staff were all waiting to swiftly sweep her into the waiting carriage and sent her off. Her escorts were the burliest men her uncle had on staff; his stablemaster, his footman, and his butcher. All of the men were physically intimidating, and all were loyal to her uncle. She sighed as she looked at her silent co-passengers. Perhaps she would be able to reason with the doctor. Her heart started picking up, and her hope raised as she thought of the possibility that the doctor could be a progressive! 'How salacious!' she thought, a smirk pumping her cheeks, 'how utterly perfect that would be; we could laugh at my ridiculous mired down uncle!' She smiled to herself and brushed a loose lock of her hair back from her face. The butcher turned his dark features to her and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. She stared obstinately at him until he scowled and turned away. Grinning in victory, she thought, 'I am a 20 year old woman, I am not a child for him to order around and control!! Unless this doctor is giving me a chance to walk away from my uncle all together... there is nothing I need from him!' She settled in to her seat, resigned to the pointless doctor's visit.

-

Inside the doctors waiting room, she felt silly surrounded by her three guards. She was escorted to a chair while one of them went to the secretary to alert the doctor of her arrival. No one spoke to her, she was prodded along by the lurking men her uncle sent. Suddenly the man who had spoken to the receptionist walked back to her holding a small paper cup. Without speaking to her, he thrust the drink up to her face. She pulled back in disgust and anger, and started to sputter "Excuse you!" as she reached up to grab the hand forcing the cup in her face. Her heart fluttered when she felt his other hand reach out and grip her wrist. His hand was warm, fingers powerfully curling around her, stopping her motion. She felt her hope burst as if popped by a needle. While holding her captive with his hand, he used his other to finally rest the rim of the cup against her lips. She kept her lips firmly shut, and gave a small shake of her head - it was the most resistance she could offer.

His hand gripped her wrist tighter, his fingers encircling her bones and nearly crushing them. His voice was deep and soft, almost in her ear; and she was startled to realize he had leaned in towards her. She could feel his breath stirring her hair against her neck, and she shivered and felt certain that the only way out of this situation was through it. Resigned, defeated, bordering on humiliated - she relented and parted her lips.

The cup tipped and the chilled liquid slipped onto her tongue. It had a faint metallic taste, almost bitter, and she struggled to swallow it. She choked slightly on it, as the man tipped the cup farther. "Easy," he said, causing that same curious shiver to course down her back. "That's a good girl." he murmured when she relaxed and swallowed the remaining liquid. Her stomach did a strange jolt when he said the last part. She felt a flush in her womb, a heat beginning to bloom in her groin.

She realized she was slumping in the chair, against one of the other men who had escorted her. It was the butcher. She leaned into his warm, solid shoulder, nuzzling into his scent; an earthy odor. She jerked a bit, suddenly quite aware of what she was doing, but the thought was fleeting and scattered; she was soon awash in the gauzy cotton haze that seemed to cloud her mind. She could hear some discussion going on around her, and she frowned, finding the buzzing words faintly annoying.

"Heh, looks like the medicine is working already. Awe look, she likes you!"

"Shut the fuck up. If it's working, let's just get her to the doctor."

She was rudely jerked under her armpits to standing. She opened her eyes and saw the footman standing in front of her. He was young, nearly her age. She always thought he was handsome, and he was always so polite and genuine to her. It felt right to lean into him, to wrap her arms up around his neck and hug him. She sighed as she felt his sturdy chest under her cheek, and she listened to the hammering of his heart. Amidst the chuckling, she was turned, and with his arm around her, the footman walked her out of the waiting room. She stumbled, and felt a strong arm slip around her waist from the other side. This hand rubbed up her side, and grazed up against her breast. She started to protest, but her words were slurred, and she wasn't even sure what she was saying. The hand squeezed her in response.

They helped her along, dragged her when she couldn't handle walking, and brought her through a doorway into a sterile room. She could vaguely make out the doctor, he was more a shimmering floating white coat. She tried to look around her, but she was dizzy and just wanted to sit down again. She soon rested her head against the footman's shoulder again, leaning her weight into him.

"Looks like she's ready for the procedure." the voice spoke from the doctor's coat, and was firm and cold. "Help me strip her."

She immediately began shaking her head, murmuring and slurring out protests. The footman turned her so that her back was against him. He held her upright, and shushed her protests while the other two men began undressing her. The butcher gruffly told the stable-master to remove her shoes, as he began to immediately undo her shirt buttons. His greedy fingers made quick work on her shirt buttons, and she shivered as he unceremoniously brushed the fabric off her shoulders, exposing her skin to the cold air. Before she could process the injustice, she was forced to one foot while the stablemaster removed one shoe, then the other. She felt cold under her feet, and was confused. Then realized that he had also removed her stockings. By this time, the butcher had undone the button fastening her skirt, and he ran his hands down the sides of her hips, his rough skin burning across her as he dragged her skirt off.

For a moment, she was aware of the fact that she was standing with four men, while clad only in her basier and panties. She could feel her nipples hardening, and she began to protest again, trying to cover herself with her hands. Before she could, however, her hands were grabbed and shoved through the armholes of a paper gown. Then she was marched forward and sat down on the examining table. With a spinning head, she allowed herself to be laid back. She felt the paper crinkling under her buttocks, and heard a metallic sound. She felt a hand grip her foot, and rest it in a cold foot hold. Her other foot was soon placed in another hold.

Again, for a brief second, she was aware that she was laying in a most obscene fashion in front of these men... she had never been in a situation like this, and she was embarrassed of how she might look. It was a brief second, and then she lay back, too tired to move, to think, to worry.

"All right gentlemen, I'll let you know when the procedure is done." the white coat said, it seemed to be gathering tools.

She was starting to enjoy this floating feeling, and stopped listening to them, so she didn't comprehend or even realize when the butcher said, "Listen, there's an extra fifty bucks in it for you if you let us watch." Nor did she see the slip of paper exchanging hands, or realize that an audience of three was now standing looking down at her.

Without any warning, she felt a gloved hand against her groin. She bucked up off the table, able to squawk out a startled "What?!"

"Stop that!" the white coat chastised her.

She was confused, he was the doctor, so she lay back.

His hand molded against her, again. She could do nothing but feel the weight of his hand against her labia majora. She had never felt anyone's hands on her like that - not even her own. She had however felt this same heat and heaviness in her groin. It reminded her of the times she had sat on the arm of a chair - straddled it - and rubbed against it until she was panting and shivery, and the heat in her groin had gone away. She started flushing, she couldn't help but begin to feel that same buildup growing. The doctor's hand was gently squeezing her, massaging in an up and down motion. She exhaled forcefully, and unconsciously raised her pelvis up against him to increase the pressure.

"Awe look, she likes that doc!" A dark voice cut through her haze, again forcing her into reality. She squeezed the doctors hand as she yanked her thighs closed. She became aware of the crinkling paper under her elbows as she fought to sit up.

"Restrain her."

Suddenly she felt her feet forced back into the stirrups as her one hand was caught and pulled up over her head. Someone was pressing on her shoulders, forcing her to lie back. She was only vaguely aware of something encompassing her ankles, and then her wrists, holding her in a spread eagled position on the table. She pulled weakly at them, they were soft, but unyielding. She was still so tired, so woozy, that she could only meekly pull at the restraints and shake her head. Each shake, each tug at the restraints got less and less forceful as she receded again back into the drug induced haze.

Almost immediately again, she felt the hand against her mons pubis, stroking her, drawing a finger up and down the slit made by her labia. She was helpless to do anything other than let the feelings build up within her. The hand was slow, torturous, and so methodical. It cupped against her, squeezing her vaginal lips together and pressing into her. Then it released her and drew one fingertip lazily around, tracing her lips, and running up and down her slit with debilitating slowness. She groaned without realizing it, her hips raising off the table to follow his fingertips; and yet she was deaf to her own moans, and to the crinkling of the paper as she bucked off the table to continue to feel his ministrations.

"Look she's already getting wet!"

She groaned and turned her face away from the voices, as the hand withdrew. She was suddenly very aware of four pairs of eyes on her, and she could see herself in her mind's eye. Her face was flushed and scrunched, her hands fisted and pulling against her restraints, and her legs splayed widely open to make her panty clothed pubic region a focal point. She could feel the cold air against her, and knew for certain that her vagina had gotten damp. Sometimes after she straddled her chair, she would find this same dampness in her panties. She was embarrassed that they were seeing this shameful stain.

"That's nice." Someone said, and the deep tones of his voice, the primal hunger buried in it made her both flush with shame and mortification, and also filled her with a perverse devilish pleasure. Without realizing she was doing it, she relaxed her hands, and let her legs fall open farther. Her hips barely raised off the table in a gentle rhythm. She couldn't help it, the silence was filled with desire and heavy; it made her anxious, made her dizzy, and increased the pressure in her womb.

"Maybe she needs some other stimulation as well." The calm, detached voice floated towards her from the white coat, "She's not responding to the treatment yet... she might need a more *ahem* hands on approach."

Her eyes were closed tight, her chest rising and falling in shallow but rapid breaths. She lay still, now hanging on the words spoken, and trying to first comprehend them, and then interpret what it meant. She did not have to wait long before she felt a shift in the air around her head, and felt a strong pair of hands latch squarely onto her breasts. She groaned aloud, trying to shift her shoulders to shrug out of the grip, but that only pushed her chest up into the hands.

Before she could process anything, the doctor began his ministrations again. He ran his fingers up and down her labia, stroking her, probing at her, and pressing into her. The hands at her chest massaged her, cupped her weight, and ran it's thumbs across her erect nipples. She pulled at the restraints now - not to escape, but because the pressure building within her was out of her control. She wagged her head back and forth, sometimes pressing her forehead into the hairy forearm on either side of her head. She breathed in the scent of the skin beside her, the earthy odor filling her nostrils. She opened her eyes and looked up into the dark eyes of the butcher. He stood at her head, his arms reached out across her, manhandling her breasts. When they made eye contact, he squeezed on her nipples, twisting them and pinching them gently. A sadistic smile curved his lips. She mewled out, her body freezing and melting as it accepting this delicious feeling. She kept her gaze locked with his, even as her womb began spasming, sending out waves of bright crashing light that coursed through her body with her heartbeat. He rolled her nipples gently as the hand at her vagina cupped her while pressing one finger up between her lips. Her panties were wet, her breathing was ragged, and she began to realize what had transpired.

She licked her lips as she looked up into the butcher's eyes, unsure of what to do, feeling vulnerable because of the situation, but also burning with that same perverse pleasure, the sheer thrill of being seen is such a raw and primal state.

"You just came, didn't you?" The butcher said bluntly, cupping her breasts and pressing them together.

The embarrassment and shame flooded back, so she turned her gaze away. Her respite did not last long. The butcher continued to stroke her breasts, as the doctor used his glove finger to snake around her panties and pull them to the side. "Looks like she might have." the doctor's voice wafted up from her pelvis. She groaned audibly, and she could feel her vaginal opening squeezing. She couldn't help it, she was thrilled as much as horrified that her naked body was so intimately on display.

The thought entered her mind almost immediately, 'I hope he touches me... oh god, I want him to put his finger inside of me!" She moaned again, gnawing at her bottom lip and again gyrating her hips.

"Hmm... looks like she might need more, but I am going to need to increase the stimulation. She still isn't responding the way I'd like her to."

She felt the panties pulled farther away from her body, and heard the metallic snip of scissors being worked. Two more soft *snick*s and then her panties were pulled fully out from under her backside. She could hardly protest this - perhaps did not even want to protest this - as the laces holding her gown together were undone, and the gown was pushed up off her shoulders. She could feel the gold air rushing against her skin, and felt goosebumps pimple her flesh, her nipples again hardened against her braiser. Keeping her eyes closed, she felt the cool metal of the scissors along her shoulders, and knew that they were cutting the gown away to get around her restraints. Then she felt the scissors on each strap, and across the middle of her chest, between her breasts. She opened her eyes as the cups sprang open, and was again looking into the face of the butcher. He roughly yanked the bra and the gown out from under her body - now she was naked, strapped spread eagled on the examination table.

She looked around at the scene, the doctor seated between her legs, the butcher standing at her head, smirking down at her. The young footman and the burly stable-master were standing beside her, close enough to see her shivering breath. She couldn't bear it, so she looked away. Her eyes landed on the footman's groin. He had an obvious bulge, one that he was absentmindedly stroking. She groaned and bucked up again, driven utterly wild at the thought of what was contained within his pants, wishing that someone would touch her again.

As they had worked to fully strip her, the doctor had been giving directions to the men. The footman was now positioned by her head, next to the butcher. The doctor was between her legs, and the stable-master was directly behind him, already touching her calf. She was panting, her breasts quivering, she was aching for attention.

Finally the hands reached out and touched her. She groaned aloud, overwhelmed by the attentions. The butcher and the footman both fondled her breasts. Their asymmetric motions kept her off guard and thrilled her. She moaned a low guttural moan when the doctor slipped a finger along her wet labia, running up along her slit again. The stable-master was running his hand up and down her leg, until he was shoulder to shoulder with the doctor, and they were both gently prodding at her. She grit her teeth and hissed, bucking up with her hips when she felt someone pull her labia open. The hands on her chest were restless, caressing her, sometimes running up to trace her neck, feel her pulse, or trail along her ribcage. Multiple hands were assaulting her, and all she wanted was more.

"Yes, this better. Perhaps some penetration would help." These words were offered with the sweet pressure at her entrance. She still, trying to feel each sensation. As the other hands continued to molest her, she lay, waiting, feeling the fingertip ease into her vaginal opening. She groaned and pulled against her wrist restraints as the finger slid into her.

"Mmmmmpplease..." she whined, unaware that she even did it, she was wild with desire, her breasts heaving, nipples sending twinges down to her vagina as they were pinched and pulled. The finger inside her was frustratingly still. Suddenly she became aware the the stable-master was now tracing her labia, tenderly stroking her pubic hairs as the doctor kept his finger slid deep inside her. She could feel her body clenching around him, trying to pull him deeper into her. She pleaded again, when the stable-master ran his finger across her clitoris.

"Very nice.." the doctor murmured, his voice now thicker, still cold and detached, but more.. Feral. He neatly slid another finger into her virgin hole, she groaned as her body stretched, but she needed the fullness, and the pain soon bloomed into more delicious pressure. "Perhaps even more attention to the clitoris, eh?"