windar
Teller of Tales
You're wearing white???View attachment 1160658 Hmmm … what makes these twoclownsheroes think that I would necessarily choose either of them?
He would definitely be finished if you hadn't left town!!!
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Against All Odds: A Gilded Age Romance
- Thread starter Barbaria1
- Start date
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- humour punishment romance sex
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
A prequel ... how wonderful
...
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Pellegrino has simply his own ways to do business! And people don't do business to be found nice guys!
It is a rather uneasy alliance of two rivals. They reluctantly have to trust each other. To me it still recalls....
.... The Moore,View attachment 1160658 Hmmm … what makes these twoclownsheroes think that I would necessarily choose either of them?
the Bad and the Ugly
twonines
LIMERICUS
Perhaps your sojourn at Dr. Darwin`s Institute wasn`t such a bad idea from your exasperated father, after all!
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Chapter 33
It was late Saturday night. After a long day of administering treatments to his charges Dr. Darwin took the time to sit in his study and attend to some business matters. The girls had all been locked for the night into the second floor dorm room. He had given the matrons the night off. Max, who was still on duty, had just brought him a decanter of brandy and a cigar.
After dismissing Max, he poured himself a drink, lit a cigar, leaned back in his chair to enjoy his smoke and drink before pulling a piece of stationary from the desk drawer. He stared at the blank page for a minute or two while he gathered his thoughts, and then began to write in his rather pinched mechanical style:
“My Dear Mr. Moore. As I am sure you are aware, two weeks have nearly passed since you left your lovely daughter Barbara in my care. I write to you tonight to report on her progress to date under the regime of treatment I have prescribed to bring under control her tendency to succumb to overt sexual impulses. While l can report that some progress has been achieved, I also must regretfully inform you that she has shown herself to be far more resistant to my methods than anticipated. I think we can both agree that Barbara is quite unusually headstrong. That is something that can, of course, be overcome. My methods are invariably successful, even in dealing with extraordinarily difficult cases, but it is clear that an effective cure for Barbara will require treatments that are far more intense and radical than previously anticipated. These treatments will also require more time. In short, I must recommend to you that Barbara’s time at the Institute be extended well beyond the originally contracted three weeks. And most regrettably I must ask that you meet the additional fees which that will require. Please see the attached billing, and do let me know if you have any questions. I am, as always, your most humble servant, James Darwin.”
*************
That Sunday morning, under the cover of the clink and rattle of breakfast eating utensils and the general buzz of chattering voices in the Institute’s dining hall, a quiet conversation was taking place between the three girls seated at the ‘sarong’ table. The topic … Barbara’s absence from the table.
“Where is Barbara this morning?” whispered Hazel, between mouthfuls of gruel.
“The matrons took her off this morning before anyone got up. Didn’t you notice?” answered Clara, speaking out of the corner of her mouth as she leaned forward to be heard.
“No, I was actually asleep then,” admitted Hazel. “Gwendolyn and Elisabeth, as you no doubt were aware, had Barbara and me up half the night sucking on their nipples and licking their pussies.”
“Yes, we all heard those two bitches squealing and moaning. It’s disgusting what they do right under the matrons’ noses. And it’s not fair that they force us sarong girls to get them off every night!” interjected Florence. “It’s like we’re their private sex slaves!”
“Be that as it may, I think Barbara’s absence this morning is due to the fact that I overheard Darwin saying she was to be severely punished today … something about being staked out in the garden all day long, and then double whipped before dinner by our good old friends, Gwendolyn and Elisabeth,” confided Clara with a roll of her eyes.
“That’s awful,” declared Hazel. “Today is promising to be a real scorcher. There’s not a cloud in the sky!”
“Yes, poor Barbara’s going to suffer terribly,” concluded Florence.
“And for what? Getting it off after Darwin crams a dildo up her cunt and strokes her bud until … well …. I mean … what does he expect? … who wouldn’t eventually do that?” snorted Clara derisively.
“Yes, who here believes Darwin’s methods really work?” asked Florence, looking knowingly at the other two, each in turn.
“Of course, they don’t!” laughed Hazel. “The man’s a fraud. “The dildos, the electric shocks, canings, whippings … all that stuff … does nothing but feed his own abnormal appetites. The truth is that there’s nothing wrong with any of us, and he knows it. But he’s making a fortune off our poor misguided parents, selling his so-called diagnoses of overactive libido and scientific shock treatment remedies. I’ll bet anyone who manages to get out of this hell hole is no more chaste in her carnal thoughts and desires than she was when she entered. But she and her parents, even if they suspect they’ve been duped, would never publicly admit it. How embarrassing! Instead they just keep quiet; perhaps they’ll even write a testimonial for Darwin.
“Shhhhhh … not so loud. Matron Marston is looking our way!” chorused the other two in hushed tones.
“Okay, sorry. It just makes me so damned angry.” groused Hazel. “Oh, by the way, and changing the subject completely, did either of you notice last Sunday, when Darwin had us all run that naked race out to the gate and back, that there was a man crouching behind the wall watching us?”
“No, was there really?” gasped Clara.
“I didn’t see anyone,” declared Florence.
“We’ll, I did. He was crouching down, staying well out of sight, but definitely looking us over.”
“Probably a local, just passing by at the right moment,” giggled Florence.
“Sure got an eyeful. Wonder what he went home and told his wife?” smirked Clara.
“Or better yet, what he went home and did to his wife?” declared Florence, winking wickedly.
“No, I don’t think so. He definitely wasn’t a local … too well dressed … you know … wearing exactly the kind of sporting attire so popular with proper gentlemen these days.”
“We’ll, that is interesting then,” observed Florence thoughtfully. “If Darwin has us run that silly naked race again today, let’s all be watching for this mysterious peeping gent.”
“Sure, why not?” the other two agreed.
*****************
By mid afternoon, Barbara, was suffering terribly out in the garden, just as her ‘sarong’ girlfriends had predicted. She’d been stretched out, lying on her back, stark naked, in spreadeagled fashion, since daybreak. Max and the matrons had tied her down, binding outstretched wrists and ankles to metal stakes driven into the ground between gaps in the flagstone paving stones on which she lay.
The morning hours had been more or less bearable, as she was shielded to some extent from the direct rays of the sun by a partially cloudy sky and the shade of nearby trees. But these protections, such as they were, had disappeared by midday as the sun reached its zenith and the clouds cleared out. It was then that she had begun to swelter. Her body became sheened with perspiration. Her throat was parched. Her arm and leg muscles had begun to cramp.
As she lay there, Barbara listened to the other girls exercising under Darwin’s direction. And by craning her neck, she watched as they reprised that naked race to the gate and back, with the winners earning the right to enjoy a bowl of ice cream.
And as an added torment, Darwin had them eat their ice cream while standing over her. Gwendolyn, who was again one of the winners, had cruelly enjoyed flicking little bits of her ice cream onto Barbara’s face and shoulders. Elisabeth had thought that quite funny. The other girls, though, clearly did not, as they all turned their backs and wandered away.
“Enjoy baking!” sniggered Gwendolyn, turning on her heel to follow after the others. “You’ve got a few more hours to go so we’ll leave you now to swelter alone. But never fear, dear Barbara, Elisabeth and I will be back later to administer your whipping. We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
It was late Saturday night. After a long day of administering treatments to his charges Dr. Darwin took the time to sit in his study and attend to some business matters. The girls had all been locked for the night into the second floor dorm room. He had given the matrons the night off. Max, who was still on duty, had just brought him a decanter of brandy and a cigar.
After dismissing Max, he poured himself a drink, lit a cigar, leaned back in his chair to enjoy his smoke and drink before pulling a piece of stationary from the desk drawer. He stared at the blank page for a minute or two while he gathered his thoughts, and then began to write in his rather pinched mechanical style:
“My Dear Mr. Moore. As I am sure you are aware, two weeks have nearly passed since you left your lovely daughter Barbara in my care. I write to you tonight to report on her progress to date under the regime of treatment I have prescribed to bring under control her tendency to succumb to overt sexual impulses. While l can report that some progress has been achieved, I also must regretfully inform you that she has shown herself to be far more resistant to my methods than anticipated. I think we can both agree that Barbara is quite unusually headstrong. That is something that can, of course, be overcome. My methods are invariably successful, even in dealing with extraordinarily difficult cases, but it is clear that an effective cure for Barbara will require treatments that are far more intense and radical than previously anticipated. These treatments will also require more time. In short, I must recommend to you that Barbara’s time at the Institute be extended well beyond the originally contracted three weeks. And most regrettably I must ask that you meet the additional fees which that will require. Please see the attached billing, and do let me know if you have any questions. I am, as always, your most humble servant, James Darwin.”
*************
That Sunday morning, under the cover of the clink and rattle of breakfast eating utensils and the general buzz of chattering voices in the Institute’s dining hall, a quiet conversation was taking place between the three girls seated at the ‘sarong’ table. The topic … Barbara’s absence from the table.
“Where is Barbara this morning?” whispered Hazel, between mouthfuls of gruel.
“The matrons took her off this morning before anyone got up. Didn’t you notice?” answered Clara, speaking out of the corner of her mouth as she leaned forward to be heard.
“No, I was actually asleep then,” admitted Hazel. “Gwendolyn and Elisabeth, as you no doubt were aware, had Barbara and me up half the night sucking on their nipples and licking their pussies.”
“Yes, we all heard those two bitches squealing and moaning. It’s disgusting what they do right under the matrons’ noses. And it’s not fair that they force us sarong girls to get them off every night!” interjected Florence. “It’s like we’re their private sex slaves!”
“Be that as it may, I think Barbara’s absence this morning is due to the fact that I overheard Darwin saying she was to be severely punished today … something about being staked out in the garden all day long, and then double whipped before dinner by our good old friends, Gwendolyn and Elisabeth,” confided Clara with a roll of her eyes.
“That’s awful,” declared Hazel. “Today is promising to be a real scorcher. There’s not a cloud in the sky!”
“Yes, poor Barbara’s going to suffer terribly,” concluded Florence.
“And for what? Getting it off after Darwin crams a dildo up her cunt and strokes her bud until … well …. I mean … what does he expect? … who wouldn’t eventually do that?” snorted Clara derisively.
“Yes, who here believes Darwin’s methods really work?” asked Florence, looking knowingly at the other two, each in turn.
“Of course, they don’t!” laughed Hazel. “The man’s a fraud. “The dildos, the electric shocks, canings, whippings … all that stuff … does nothing but feed his own abnormal appetites. The truth is that there’s nothing wrong with any of us, and he knows it. But he’s making a fortune off our poor misguided parents, selling his so-called diagnoses of overactive libido and scientific shock treatment remedies. I’ll bet anyone who manages to get out of this hell hole is no more chaste in her carnal thoughts and desires than she was when she entered. But she and her parents, even if they suspect they’ve been duped, would never publicly admit it. How embarrassing! Instead they just keep quiet; perhaps they’ll even write a testimonial for Darwin.
“Shhhhhh … not so loud. Matron Marston is looking our way!” chorused the other two in hushed tones.
“Okay, sorry. It just makes me so damned angry.” groused Hazel. “Oh, by the way, and changing the subject completely, did either of you notice last Sunday, when Darwin had us all run that naked race out to the gate and back, that there was a man crouching behind the wall watching us?”
“No, was there really?” gasped Clara.
“I didn’t see anyone,” declared Florence.
“We’ll, I did. He was crouching down, staying well out of sight, but definitely looking us over.”
“Probably a local, just passing by at the right moment,” giggled Florence.
“Sure got an eyeful. Wonder what he went home and told his wife?” smirked Clara.
“Or better yet, what he went home and did to his wife?” declared Florence, winking wickedly.
“No, I don’t think so. He definitely wasn’t a local … too well dressed … you know … wearing exactly the kind of sporting attire so popular with proper gentlemen these days.”
“We’ll, that is interesting then,” observed Florence thoughtfully. “If Darwin has us run that silly naked race again today, let’s all be watching for this mysterious peeping gent.”
“Sure, why not?” the other two agreed.
*****************
By mid afternoon, Barbara, was suffering terribly out in the garden, just as her ‘sarong’ girlfriends had predicted. She’d been stretched out, lying on her back, stark naked, in spreadeagled fashion, since daybreak. Max and the matrons had tied her down, binding outstretched wrists and ankles to metal stakes driven into the ground between gaps in the flagstone paving stones on which she lay.
The morning hours had been more or less bearable, as she was shielded to some extent from the direct rays of the sun by a partially cloudy sky and the shade of nearby trees. But these protections, such as they were, had disappeared by midday as the sun reached its zenith and the clouds cleared out. It was then that she had begun to swelter. Her body became sheened with perspiration. Her throat was parched. Her arm and leg muscles had begun to cramp.
As she lay there, Barbara listened to the other girls exercising under Darwin’s direction. And by craning her neck, she watched as they reprised that naked race to the gate and back, with the winners earning the right to enjoy a bowl of ice cream.
And as an added torment, Darwin had them eat their ice cream while standing over her. Gwendolyn, who was again one of the winners, had cruelly enjoyed flicking little bits of her ice cream onto Barbara’s face and shoulders. Elisabeth had thought that quite funny. The other girls, though, clearly did not, as they all turned their backs and wandered away.
“Enjoy baking!” sniggered Gwendolyn, turning on her heel to follow after the others. “You’ve got a few more hours to go so we’ll leave you now to swelter alone. But never fear, dear Barbara, Elisabeth and I will be back later to administer your whipping. We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
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Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Barb you simply inspire everyone to greater heights ...
This position ... so very erotic ...
And the ants began to march!!!!
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
On flagstones? Not on the lawn? It would have been a great occasion for Max to test his driving skills with the institute's newly acquired 1892 state of the art compact steam lawn mover!
windar
Teller of Tales
Abnormal? Moi?
Bennett Medical College, Class of Last Week!
You see, I'm a gentleman. Would someone tell James Moore, please?
I find this treatment very useful...
...well, me and my guests like it!!!
...well, me and my guests like it!!!
and my invitation said “garden party … enjoy an afternoon of drinks, treats and lawn croquet as a guest at the Treehouse.
Apparently the drinks were for Tree and his good buddy, Admi, the treats were me and three of my blue state girlfriends. And I’m rather concerned now, as I lie staked out naked on the lawn with legs spread wide, about what Tree meant by lawn croquet!
I was only referring to putting something in the 'goal'... You worry too much!!!
OH NO!!!!!
"Trust me! I am a doctor!"
And I’m the Queen of England! Gimme a break Lox!
Forgive me Lox, I stand corrected.
Some “thing”???? Is that what they call it in Arkansas?
I don't use that kind of language in front of ladies!!!Some “thing”???? Is that what they call it in Arkansas?
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Just remember, it is a judgement by medically confirmed wayward women!
Doragon
Tribune
You are so lost for words, you fall back to collections of emoticons?
