“You aren’t shifting about like that to make yourself spend, Miss Blanchet, I hope,” he said. “One part of my training is to ensure that you do not.”
She was so taken aback by this statement that she said nothing, and her mouth went slack for a moment before she even realized it. She could feel the color creeping across her cheeks.
“The other,” Dr. Doyle said, drawing his fingers over her cheek, “is to cure you of the modesty that has been so imparted upon you, for while it might be considered appealing in proper society, the Moulay requires a girl who does not blush at his every whim.”
“Sir,” Lina said sharply, before thinking. The admonishment escaped her without her thinking of it first, for it was the sort of thing she was supposed to say if conversation should turn unsuitable for the presence of ladies, and while she was uncertain of much, there was a deeply embedded fiber of morality inside of her that made such a reaction second nature.
Dr. Doyle poured her some tea, smiling. He then poured some for himself. “Naturally, Miss Blanchet, you have been instructed by your guardians in the proper behavior of a lady in society—that is, the society to which your guardians pertain, and the society to which a great number of men and women pertain outwardly. But there is behavior for when one is seen in such society, and behavior when one is behind closed doors. Surely, after your escapade with Mr. Carrington, you are aware that the two are distinct.”
Lina momentarily forgot the absurdity of the situation, the ache between her legs, the fact that she was seated upon a plug inserted into her bottom by a man who had strapped her and made her crave him doing so again—and the vestiges of her modesty and stubbornness rose to the forefront of her mind.
“I did nothing improper with Mr. Carrington, Dr. Doyle,” she hissed. For good measure, she jutted her chin, which made her whole body move and subsequently brought the object inside of her back to the forefront of her mind, making her lip tremble slightly.
Dr. Doyle regarded her seriously for a moment, head tipped to the side. He seemed to be thinking of something, and then seemed to clear it from his head with a swift shake that sent some of his dark blond locks tumbling.
“Mr. Blackstone reports to me that you have been most cooperative with his training thus far. Most... able.”
Lina blushed, struck dumb yet again.
“My training, I’m afraid, will be much more difficult, Miss Blanchet,” he went on to explain. “For I am going to assess your level of arousal, and train you to bring it about upon command, but I have been instructed by Mr. Blackstone to leave you unsatisfied throughout the day, so that we may assess your obedience.”
Lina sucked in her breath, her mouth agape again, her lower lip trembling like her thighs. The hot rush of pleasurable pain between her legs was almost unbearable, and she knew it was also humiliating, for she could feel the bright red as it crept across her cheeks. The back of her neck grew hot.
“Remember, Miss Blanchet: you have no choice in the matter. You will submit to your desires and your nature, which is to submit to your masters. When you do this, freely and without shame except for the shame your master wishes you to feel, you will become quite content.”
Blood pounded in her ears, and rushed outward to every ending of her nerves and her skin.
“For now, Miss Blanchet, you will take refreshment,” Dr. Doyle told her, serving a scone to her from the heaped tray.
* * *
They walked throughthe gardens following refreshment, Lina on Dr. Doyle’s arm. As she walked, the object in her bottom moved and stimulated her in those deep, foreign, naughty places, and sometimes the pleasure of the obscene torture was so great that she felt like crying out. Her face went quite red, she was sure, with the effort of maintaining her composure, while Dr. Doyle walked her around and around in circles, saying nothing at first.
At last, he paused by a bench, and turned to her, studying her face with his keen eyes. “You look quite unwell, Miss Blanchet, how are you feeling?”
She shook her head, and diverted her eyes to the pond. “I am quite... well, Dr. Doyle. Thank you.”
She thought she could see a smile form on his lips, but she kept her eyes on the pond.
“You do not wish to rest, Miss Blanchet? Perhaps the device Mr. Blackstone has placed in your bottom is making you uncomfortable?”
She could feel the rush of blood to her face. Her lips barely moved as she shook her head quickly. “It is not,” she said, barely a whisper.
“Do you wish to continue walking, then, Miss Blanchet? Or shall we continue in my private surgery?”
Lina thought on the question a moment, and she had many, many questions about what might take place in his surgery that would not take place out here in the open. She was uncertain which fate might be better, or worse, and for a moment she despaired.
“As you wish, Dr. Doyle, sir,” she said, in a sudden flash of inspiration.
Doyle placed a hand over hers and patted it gently. He leaned quite close to her ear, so that she could feel his breath, and smell the scent of tobacco and his masculinity, making another wave of goose-flesh travel over her neck, though it was quite different than the one delivered by Mr. Blackstone’s arousing menace. “That is a very good answer, Miss Blanchet. Very obedient. All you must do to make it perfect, is to address me as master.”
Lina’s brow furrowed in slight confusion. “Are you my master, Dr. Doyle? I...I... th...thought...?”
“I am.”
His voice was quite firm, even if it seemed warmer than Mr. Blackstone’s.
“Say it again, and as you do, Miss Blanchet, enjoy the sensation of submission that it gives you. Even to speak of your submission to the will of your master will arouse you, once I have trained you. Try it now.”
