The Duke's Possession Read online

  Something was definitely wrong.

  Still pondering her parents’ strange behavior as of late, Charlotte wandered down to the breakfast room at her usual hour of half past eleven. “Good morning, Mother,” she intoned as she made her way to the sideboard. Ignoring the eggs, sausages and stewed tomatoes laid out in polished silver chafers, Charlotte instead piled her plate high with pastries and preserves.

  “Charlotte,” admonished her mother, Lady Brunswick. “It is unseemly the way you gorge yourself on sweets each morning. For goodness sake, please take a spoonful of eggs at least.”

  Charlotte smiled as she completely disregarded her mother’s plea and sat down at the table. Allowing a footman to pour her a cup of tea, she relaxed against the plush seat. Apparently she had worried over nothing. Her mother was returning back to form with her gentle scold. No doubt her father would return to his half-hearted complaints about the cost of her dresses and their scandalously low necklines with a few grouses about how late she stays at balls. Everything was as it should be.

  “By the by, dear, you cannot go on calls this afternoon,” her mother stated tentatively, worried about Charlotte’s angry reaction. Her daughter was never one to be told what she could and could not do.

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Mother, I am joining Anne at Lady Campbell’s today for tea. I could not possibly cancel at this late hour.”

  “I’m afraid you must,” insisted Lady Brunswick. “There is a doctor coming to pay a call. He is to examine you.”

  “Whatever for?” exclaimed Charlotte. “I’m in perfect health.” Rising from her seat, she delicately brushed the crumbs from her scone from her dressing gown. Giving her mother a placating kiss on the cheek, she said, “Send the doctor on his way. I will be at Lady Campbell’s.” Charlotte sauntered out of the room.

  In desperation, her mother followed her out to the hall. “Charlotte your father insists!”

  Charlotte laughed, calling over her shoulder as she ascended the sweeping staircase to the upper rooms. “You both are so adorable to worry about me so, but there is no need I tell you.”

  Lady Brunswick wrung her hands in agitation, worrying the fine lace-edged handkerchief she held. Her husband had entrusted her to handle the delicate matter of Charlotte’s examination. The Duke was insisting on proof of her purity before the marriage banns could be read. Lord Brunswick had hinted at rushing through the affair with a special license, anxious to get his wayward daughter off his hands. Lady Brunswick also suspected her husband was worried his daughter’s purity would not stand the test. A suspicion his wife shared.

  The Duke would not budge. His title demanded a formal wedding in a church followed by a customary wedding breakfast at the bride’s home. This meant a reading of the banns and a formal doctor’s examination.

  Lady Brunswick’s face lit with inspiration. She rushed after her daughter. Finding her in a state of dishabille in her dressing room with her lady’s maid. The poor maid was pulling with all her might on the silken cords of Charlotte’s corset.

  “Tighter, Mary!”

  “Oh miss, I can’t,” whined Mary. “You won’t be able to breathe!”

  Charlotte grabbed the mirror frame for purchase and braced herself. “Tighter!” she ground out, ignoring Mary’s pleas. Charlotte hated the torturous things. Each time she forced herself into a corset it felt like two massive hands slowly squeezing her ribcage till the bones cracked and she fought for breath. There was nothing Charlotte could do. The fashionable dresses she loved to wear required a corset. Mary tied the cords into a tight knot over Charlotte’s stomach.

  Charlotte admired her reflection. The corset had cinched in her waist emphasizing the soft swell of her hips. Her ample bosom practically spilled over the frilled top. Grabbing a puff from her vanity, she dabbed powder over her décolletage to get rid of the light sheen of perspiration that had formed during their struggle. She caught her mother’s eye in the reflection.

  “What do you think, Mother? The sage green or the pale pink?” Charlotte walked over to her wardrobe gesturing to the two dresses she had pressed for the occasion, unable to decide. Both were very feminine with layers of flounce and lace.

  “Dear, I didn’t want to alarm you but there is another reason for the doctor’s visit.”

  Charlotte sat at her vanity, allowing Mary to start pinning up her luxurious chestnut locks into a complicated mass of braids and curls. “Well? What is it?”

  Lady Brunswick paused uncertain. Finally, she decided to lie. It was for her own daughter’s good after all.

  “There is a terrible rash spreading among the ladies of our circle!” she blurted out. “It is red with blisters and starts as slashes on the back but eventually works its way to the face. Permanently disfiguring it with scars,” said Lady Brunswick, warming up to her task.

  Charlotte rose so quickly she upset the upholstered stool she was sitting on. Rushing over to the mirror, she began to twirl in circles trying to get a clear view of her back. Horrified to see the slight blush of red on her creamy skin that could be a red slash.

  “Oh my god! Mother!” screeched Charlotte. “Get the doctor!”

  Lady Brunswick smiled. She knew the scratches were from Mary forcing her daughter into the corset, which Charlotte should as well if she hadn’t been worked up into an agitated frenzy worrying about her looks.

  “But, miss, those are just from…” started a confused Mary.

  Lady Brunswick rushed over and grabbed Mary by the shoulders, gently directing her out of the room. With a telling look, she said, “You are correct to worry, Mary. Now go down and send a messenger to Lady Anne’s giving Charlotte’s excuses. I will help my daughter back into her dressing gown.” A still confused Mary left the room.

  Lady Brunswick started to unknot the cords of her daughter’s corset. “Never you mind, dear. I am sure we caught it in plenty of time. Now step out of your petticoat and chemise. The doctor has requested you be completely disrobed under your dressing gown so he may better examine you.”

  Lady Brunswick knew that checking her daughter’s virginity did not require her to be completely naked but the note from the doctor was very specific and since he was sent directly from the Duke, they did not dare question it. Apparently it was to be a very thorough examination.

  ***

  An hour later, Charlotte found herself ushered into a small ante-chamber usually reserved for visiting lady’s maids. There was usually just a small iron-framed bed, a writing desk and trunk but today a small stool had been placed at the end of the bed.

  “Good morning, Lady Charlotte, shall we get you ready for the doctor?”

  For the first time, Charlotte noticed the woman standing near the corner. She was dressed in soft grey with a severely starched white apron with large white cuffs to match. Her advanced years and severe expression belied the polite salutation.

  “I am the doctor’s nurse. Please remove your dressing gown and lay on the bed.”

  “Remove my gown! But I will be exposed!” exclaimed Charlotte.

  “Lady Charlotte,” said the nurse with an exasperated sigh. “The doctor is the sole of discretion and decorum. Now, will you do as I ask, or do I need to go get assistance from the servant’s hall?”

  Charlotte was horrified at the thought of anyone down in the servant’s hall knowing let alone being a firsthand witness to her humiliation, as the nurse knew she would be. With a small whimper, Charlotte undid the satin belt to her dressing gown, exposing every inch of her pale skin and laid down on the bed.

  “Raise your arms above your head and grasp the rails of the bed if you please,” said the nurse in the same no nonsense tone. Charlotte reluctantly complied and instantly felt her wrists enclosed in soft leather.

  Twisting her head about to see what was happening, Charlotte asked with alarm, “What are you doing?”

  As the nurse tightened the small buckles over each wrist, effectively lashing them to the bed rail, she casually responded, “Modest ladies such as yourself tend to fidget and fuss during the examination, irritating the doctor. This will help keep you still. Now close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

  “Lady Charlotte, please stop asking so many questions. I have asked you to close your eyes so that I may place the eye mask over your face. I have told you the doctor is the height of discretion and decorum. It would not do to have a young innocent such as yourself gaze upon her own nudity during the examination,” stated the nurse with a great deal of affront. Charlotte complied and felt the cool touch of soft silk enwrap the upper portion of her face, closing out all light. Charlotte started to breathe heavily as her uncertainty and fright grew.

  Next she felt the cold, efficient touch of the nurse grabbing her calf. Charlotte gave out a startled cry.

  “Hush now. I am just securing your limbs.” The nurse forced her leg to bend at the knee. Charlotte felt more soft leather straps being buckled around her knee and calf. The nurse repeated the gesture on her other leg. Then to Charlotte’s horror, her thighs were spread wide open as the nurse secured the straps around her knees to the bottom bed posts.

  “Oh! Oh! Please don’t! This…this…I can’t. I don’t care about the rash! Release me at once!” yelled out a truly alarmed Charlotte as she felt the cool air touch an area she dare not mention or think about.

  “How you take on so,” commented the nurse dryly, ignoring Charlotte’s pleas. She grasped Charlotte firmly around her hips and pulled her to the edge of the bed.

  Charlotte felt the curve of her bottom slip over the edge. Her knees fell open even wider, further exposing her.

  “I demand you release me or I shall…I shall scream!” threatened Charlotte.

  “Oh that would be a site. I daresay you will give your footmen quite a shock when they come rushing in to see to your safety.”

  Charlotte snapped her jaw shut and did not make any more protest.

  “Good girl. Now let’s get you all pink and pretty for the doctor,” said the nurse.

  Charlotte had no idea what she could possible mean. She heard the nurse moving about the room. There was the sound of water splashing into a basin. The muffled shuffle of a stack of linens and then the unmistakable sound of a razor being sharpened on a strop. Charlotte’s mind whirled. Not wanting to anger the nurse any further, she also could not lie there listening to the swish, swish of the razor as it skimmed the heavy leather surface.

  “Nurse. Is that a razor I hear?” she asked with trepidation. Directing her question in the general direction of the sound. Damn the eye masking blocking her gaze, she thought.

  “Why yes, dear, it is,” responded the nurse with far too much cheer in Charlotte’s mind.

  “What,” Charlotte paused to moisten her lips, “what…are you going to…to shave?”

  “Your little cunny of course!”

  Charlotte’s body visibly sagged with relief. She was half out of her mind that the nurse was going to say her beautiful hair. Not knowing the particulars of the rash her mother mentioned she was worried it might entail her losing her hair. The relief was short lived when she focused on what the nurse actually had said.

  “My what?”

  Charlotte could hear the scrape of the wooden stool as the nurse took a seat between her open thighs. She felt a cool hand on her inner thigh and started. “Easy now, dear. You don’t want to be jumping about like that when I have a sharp razor in my hand.”

  More cool sensations as something thick and creamy was spread over her exposed cunny. Charlotte could feel the rich lotion melt and slide down over the lower curve of her bottom. The nurse’s cool hand spread over Charlotte’s lower stomach as she pulled the skin taut. With a steady, efficient hand, she scraped the sharp edge of the razor cleanly down the right side of the strapped down girl’s cunny. Wiping the razor on a linen towel placed across her lap, she repeated the motion on the left side.

  Charlotte was breathing so heavily she felt faint. Having never been sick a day in her life, she had extremely limited experience with doctors and their nurses. She had no idea if this was what all women had to endure. All she knew was that it was terribly scary and embarrassing.

  The scrape of the razor continued on Charlotte’s soft flesh till she was shaved smooth and pink. Satisfied with the results, the nurse cleaned up the shaving tools and returned to rub a silky feeling lotion that smelled like verbena onto the newly exposed skin.

  “There now. No more silly hair to cover that pretty pussy. Much better for the doctor’s examination.”

  “Oh please, Nurse. Don’t let him look at me there!” begged Charlotte.

  “Silly girl! What else on earth do you think he is here to do?”

  “Check…check for a rash,” replied a confused Charlotte.

  The nurse just chuckled and moved about the room preparing the necessary tools for the doctor.

  Just then, the door opened and the doctor stepped in.

  “Excellent job, Nurse. I see our patient is ready.”

  Charlotte laid very still. Her poor mind could not process so many humiliations at once. The very idea there was a strange man looking at her in such a position was too much. She had no idea it was about to get so much worse.

  “Good morning, Lady Charlotte. I’m Dr. Stacid, and I will be examining you today.” His polite greeting almost a mockery given her circumstances. Why his tone implied they were meeting over sweet biscuits!

  Starting when she felt his warm hand on her stomach, Charlotte tried to concentrate on what he was saying.

  “Now we are going to start with this fine bosom of yours. You are to be congratulated, my dear. They are quite the specimen.”

  Charlotte blushed furiously as she felt Dr. Stacid test the weight of each breast. Rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he squeezed. Charlotte was unprepared for the harsh pinch. “That hurts!”

  The doctor repeated the cruel gesture on her other exposed nipple. “Nurse, please make a note. ‘Strong reaction to nipple stimulation. Recommend clamps as possible punishment.’”

  Charlotte had a hard time concentrating on the strange note as she felt the dull throbbing coursing through each strained nipple.

  “Now, let’s examine your mouth. Nurse, the oral dildo please. No, no,” he corrected as he saw the nurse reach for a small rubber dildo about a half inch in diameter. “The red one if you please.” The red one was at least an inch and a half in diameter.

  Having no idea what a dildo was, Charlotte was surprised to feel a large rubber object being pressed against her partially open mouth. She immediately closed her lips tight.

  “No, no. None of that, my dear,” said the doctor gently as he harshly pinched her nipple.

  Charlotte gave a cry of pain that was muted when the large bulbous tip of the dildo pressed into her soft mouth. Of its own accord, her tongue swirled around the foreign object feeling the mushroom like shape and the odd, ashy taste of rubber.

  “Now you must try to relax. I am going to push the dildo far back into your throat to test your gag reflex.”

  As the doctor pushed the awful object in further, it scraped along the edges of her lips, forcing her mouth open wider. In desperation, Charlotte bit down.

  “Tsk. Tsk. We must never use our teeth, my dear. Let’s try this again with a little help.” The Doctor cupped his hand under her jaw, his long fingers pressed into the soft flesh of her cheeks. The gesture forced the skin of her inner mouth to scrape against her sharp teeth. Out of instinct, her mouth opened painfully wide, trying to escape the pain.

  Once again, the doctor made a slow push further into her mouth. Charlotte panicked and started to pull on her leather strapped wrists as she felt the dildo press down on her tongue. Her upper body jerked up as she started to choke and gag, feeling the tip press against the back of her throat.

  At that moment, the door opened again. The offensive dildo was pulled free from her mouth and Charlotte gulped in several large breaths. She could sense that someone else had entered the room, but they were not greeted or acknowledged by the nurse or the doctor.

  Lord Asherton gazed down on his intended bride. Taking in her beautiful, heavy breasts, so large they curved out beyond her small ribcage. Her flat stomach that sloped, slightly inward creating a tantalizing hollow below each hipbone. Long, coltish legs spread wide to reveal her sweet cunny, looking pink and exposed after her recent shaving. Her ivory skin covered in a delicate pink blush from head to toe. Asher motioned for the doctor to proceed.

  He had chosen Doctor Stacid carefully. The man was in his seventies and thanks to a war injury courtesy of Napoleon, he no longer got a rise from the fairer sex. The closest he now came were these special examinations he performed for select members of the ton. The Doctor was given strict instructions not to acknowledge his presence in the room during the examination. It was also why his intended had her eyes covered. This was not how he wanted her to learn he was to become her lord and master.

  “Let us proceed, Nurse.”

  Once again, the offensive object was pushed past Charlotte’s resisting lips. Her tongue was forced down as the hard rubber cylinder slid further in. Charlotte’s throat convulsed.

  “Breathe through your nose,” instructed the doctor.

  Charlotte obeyed and her throat relaxed slightly. The doctor gave the dildo another small push till he felt the resistance of the back of her throat. Using a bit more pressure, he popped the mushroom head past the narrow flexing muscle and deep into her throat.

  Charlotte’s hips left the bed as she struggled to breathe through her nose and not choke. Giving the dildo a small shimmy, the doctor pulled it free from her mouth. Charlotte took in several harsh breaths. Her throat felt raw and sore.

  “Excellent job,” said the doctor casually as he patted her exposed shoulder. “Nurse, make a note, ‘Slow gag reflex. Able to swallow a one inch dildo with little effort.’” He glanced over his shoulder to observe the pleased expression on Lord Asherton’s face.

  Charlotte would have disagreed with the phrase ‘little effort’ had she not been so intent on getting air into her abused lungs.

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