Part 2 - Procedure
After my second pot of tea and my sandwiches I had the commissionaire flag down a Hansom Cab. The journey to my practice was uneventful, but quicker and drier than had I waited for a bus or walked.
I arrived with a good half hour to spare, and due to the fact it was the weekend and my assistants were not there I had to set about lighting the fire to heat the large granite rooms and the gas lamps for light as it was dark enough to feel like dusk already.
The door bell rang out at exactly three o'clock, and I hurried to let the Contessa and her chaperone in out of the rain.
"This is Bernhardt, my travelling companion and chaperone," the Contessa said, introducing him to me. "He wishes to observe the treatment you give me. It is part of his remit."
"Out of the question Signorina. There are strict rules, and unless you are under sixteen and Bernhardt is your parent, or is an associate of mine then he is not allowed in the room," I stated without a hint of apology. "Since it is you, however, I will allow him to have a look at the room and equipment prior to your treatment. It is a medical procedure after all - we can't just let anyone in."
"I see," Bernhardt exhaled and screwed his face up.
"Now, you have to understand, Bernhardt, that women have been known to be very vocal during this procedure. Very vocal indeed. And almost violent - thrashing around as if in a fit. However, rest assured it will help her keep her hysteria in check and calm her nerves. Try to resist the temptation to come to the Contessa's rescue unless you hear me shout your name."
"Okay," he said in his deep accented voice, sounding thoroughly unconvinced. Although shorter than myself I had not until now noticed just how broad and muscular he was. If he did come to her rescue there would not be much I could do but get out of his way. I would much rather that he were on my side than against me.
I showed them both to the main surgery up in the first floor wherewithin I was to carry out the procedure. I sat the Contessa at a small table in the corner to fill in forms while Bernhardt had a look at the equipment. He had a vague understanding of what was going on, and wished to make sure that none of the equipment was likely to harm the woman he was paid to protect. Only when he was satisfied, though slightly red of cheek, did he leave us and retire to the waiting room where there was a good supply of Readers Digests and Women's Realms for him to pass the time with.
I checked through the forms that the Contessa had filled in for me while she smoked a cigarette. I read that she was only twenty-one, came from Northern Italy originally, and had been traveling for the past two years. When I asked she told me she had been visiting vast telescopes and observatories across Europe, surveying the night sky. Stars, galaxies, and planets, cosmic explosions, vast clouds of stardust, and of course our very own satellite, the moon.
Satisfied that there was nothing untoward in her medical history that might complicate matters, and that her menstrual cycle was not due I asked if she was ready for an examination prior to the procedure.
"Of course, Doctor. Where will I put my clothes?" she asked.
"If you go behind the screen in the corner you will find a chair to lay your clothes on and a gown for you to wear," I instructed her. "Take as long as you want."
As the Contessa went behind the screen I went to close the shutters on the windows. Although we were on the first floor and it was the weekend it was still possible that we could be overlooked from across the road, and my patients always received the greatest privacy.
Although dark outside the streetlights had been lit early. I couldn't help but notice that the light shining through the last unshuttered window came in at the perfect angle to reflect off of the white wall behind the screen, casting a shadow on the screen itself in the manner of a Japanese puppet show.
I stood mesmerised for a moment, catching a glimpse of a private moment, feeling like one of those perverted voyeurs you read about in the trashy newspapers. Seeing the Contessa's side-on silhouette with one booted foot on the chair was undeniably erotic. Even though I knew that I would be seeing her in a state of undress in only a few minutes there was a deliciously naughty feeling about that moment, seeing something that I ought not to.
First one boot came off, followed swiftly by the second. Watching the shadow of the curve of her luscious backside was a treat indeed.
I found myself holding my breathe as the laces on her bustier were slowly undone, delicately and deliberately. Even though I worked here five days a week and had carried out countless of these procedures there was something wonderful about the tease that was undoubtedly for my benefit. At least I liked to imagine it was for my benefit. Most of the procedures that I carried out were for women in their forties who felt they were missing something from their lives, and that this could be their last opportunity. Seldom were they this young, or beautiful, or fascinating.
I breathed out slowly and as quietly as I could as the pale silhouette shimmered along with the light from outside. My heart was pounding as the curves of the Contessa's breasts had their shadows thrown on the white linen screens, her nipples long and erect. If I were an artist of any repute I would have begged her to stay posed for me while I painted her outline on the impromptu canvas. My view was, however, short lived as the Contessa put the gown on. I turned my back on her as she removed her skintight trousers and undergarments from beneath her gown and finished closing the shutters. I tried to get my heart rate back down so that I wasn't obviously having unprofessional palpitations.
Several deep, slow breaths with my eyes closed returned a certain amount of my equilibrium so that when I heard the screen scrape across the floor I could turn with a look of professional detachment on my face.
Even in a medical gown cross-tied at the front the Contessa looked stunning. Her eyes flashed behind her long dark lashes and she smiled a nervous smile at me.
"As I said Signorina, I need to do a quick examination to determine if we can safely go ahead with the procedure. There's no need to be nervous, it's fairly straight forward," I said in my low, calming doctor voice.
She took a deep breath. "Okay Dr. Stein, what do you wish me to do?" she asked, a mix of nervousness and anticipation in her soft voice.
What I really wanted her to do at that precise moment was to get on her knees and undo my trouser buttons to allow my hard manhood the freedom it so craved. I swallowed hard as I turned and walked to my desk in the corner of the room. "If you'll follow me I'll take a few statistics from you."
I measured her height - five foot three; her weight - seven stone two pounds; her vital statistics- 34-23-34. I sat her down opposite me and took her blood pressure - 120 over 68. I listened to her chest. There was no sound of fluid on the lungs nor bronchial problems.
"Your heart rate is quite fast," I stated. It was about eighty two beats per minute. High for a seated, relaxed, healthy female.
"I'm nervous," she said, slightly shaken. Her eyes were wide. Such a vivid green.
"If there's anything that you don't understand, or reservations that you have then please ask. If there's anything you don't like then say, and I'll explain as we go along."
"But you see, I'm a .... I've never ... " she stuttered. Now I understood more her nervous disposition.I smiled to encourage her to continue. I found it somewhat at odds with the self-confident woman whom I had first encountered at Harrods. She looked me in the eye and sat up straighter, regaining her composure and taking a deep breath.
"I now consider you to be my official physician while I am in your country, so I expect I will be granted full confidentiality in all medical matters," she started, her voice gaining strength. She was a woman used to being in command. I of course nodded in agreement. "Being from a royal family leads to certain ... expectations. For a female member of the family at least. And one of the big requirements, as you probably know, is that I enter my wedding bed fully intact. Unsullied. My maidenhead unbroken. "
She lowered her head and looked at the floor.
"How much do you trust me?" I asked openly. She looked up at me, not sure what answer I expected.
"If I were to swear on the eternal souls of my dead wife and unborn child that this procedure would in no way compromise the integrity of your hymen, would you believe me?" I asked with gravity.
She looked shocked at the seriousness of my pronouncement and the meaning behind my words.
"Of course. But what happened to ..."
"Another time, Signorina, another time," I said softly.
She nodded understanding. "Shall we proceed? Where do you want me?"
I beckoned to the adjacent corner, where there were a covered chair, a small movable medical equipment trolley and a large cabinet of electrical and pneumatic equipment. I walked over and pulled a number of switches, starting up the Vigouroux/Granville Mark 2 Electromechanical Excitation system. Lights glowed, gauges flickered to life and valves hummed quietly.
I removed the cover from the chair, letting the Contessa see it for the first time. It was an unusual contraption, built to my specifications. It was built in a semi human form with a body, arms and legs, especially for women of varying sizes, as if to perfectly hold a sitting woman, arms relaxed at either side, legs spreadable as if for childbirth. It was immensely adjustable to accommodate almost any size and shape of woman and was covered in well worn red cushioned leather.
"Would you care to sit? And I will get you fitted in properly. "
She looked askance at me, and decided that I was serious. She nodded her head as if making a decision. "I trust you," she said in all seriousness.
She moved forward, turned around and sat down, then indicated with a nod that she was ready for me to adjust the seat. It took me a few minutes to adjust the length of leg, stirrups, arm rest height and head rest. When we were both happy with the fit and comfort level I moved behind the Contessa and tilted the chair back to about forty five degrees. I then used a foot pedal to pneumatically raise the chair to a suitable height.
I couldn't help but notice that she still wore a pair of silk stockings - I found it surprising considering that she had been wearing skin tight trousers. It was good to know that in a world that was becoming increasingly androgynous that women still enjoyed their femininity.
I wheeled my own chair over between the Contessa's feet, and wheeled the equipment trolley over next to the seat. I turned one of the dials up until the gauges read one hertz, a frequency of one vibration per second. I took off my jacket and put on my white doctors lab coat that I kept on the back of the door.
I took my seat. "Are you ready Signorina?" I asked.
"Absolutely," she said breathily. "Whenever you are, Doctor." I spread the leg rests and slid forward. She looked down on me from slightly above, down the length of her body and I could imagine her seeing my head pop up from between her spread knees. She bit her bottom lip.
I have seen, in my professional life, literally many hundreds of pudenda, belonging to every class, colour and age of the fairer sex. And without fear of contradiction I can say that I wished that the chance to see this particular one had been outwith my professional life; where there was no need to be stiff and formal, professional and reserved.
I untied the cord of her gown and opened it, folding it up to her waist, exposing her lower body to me completely for the first time.
I paused, very unprofessionally. I could feel myself blush as I gazed upon her beautiful womanhood. Her dark pubic topiary appeared to have been trimmed into the shape of - was that a heart? My! I had never come across that before. I had encountered everything from barely pubescent wispy blonde cotton candy to a bush so thick and luscious that I half expected to bump into Dr. Livingston, and back again to old and grey and worthy of cleaning pans with, but this was a first.
Her nether lips were barely showing, tucked up out of sight. I noticed a glistening of moisture.
I had a struggle to hold myself back. I felt myself moving forward, desperate to smell her intimate scent, to stroke the soft olive brown skin above the top of her silk stockings, to delicately kiss the smooth rosy flesh which appeared to match my own blush and watch her delicate petals open up like the most beautiful orchid to sunlight.
I licked my lips and sat up straight, trying to pull on a mantel of respectability. Our eyes met. I could feel my blush deepen, and wished that I hadn't put on quite so many lights.
"Is everything okay?" the beautiful Contessa asked. There was a hitch in her voice that I took to be concern, but in retrospect could have been excitement.
"From what I can see everything appears to be in tip top shape," I answered through a dry mouth. I knew that I must come up with a means of retaining the doctor/patient dynamic - to enable me to carry out the procedure without worrying about whether the Contessa knew what dalliances were bubbling through my mind.
"Signorina," I started, making it up as I went along, "since we have plans later today at the Observatory, I am going to recommend an unusual course of action to speed up our present process."
I paused, receiving a nod to continue.
"It is well known to doctors and physicians that if one loses a sense, whether it be sight, hearing etc, then it is not unusual for the other senses to be affected with a heightened sensitivity."
"Indeed my good doctor. Tell me then, what are your intentions?" she appeared to see right through what I finally saw as my deceptions, but I blustered on regardless.
I stood up and walked in circles, almost instantly thankful for the long white loose lab coat : since I was no longer sitting it gave blood the opportunity to flow more freely.
"I ... intend to blindfold you, Signorina Vincente," I stated with more certainty than I felt. Her persona, her elegance, her demeanour and her beauty, not to mention the allure of her intimacy had me feeling like a virginal Victorian schoolboy at a glimpse of a female ankle.
"Please, proceed. As I have informed you, I trust you implicitly to do what you feel is necessary. Please do not feel that you have to inform me of every decision you make. You have my permission to do whatever you wish."
Perhaps I misheard the emphasis on 'whatever' and read too much of receiving her permission - I was still very much her physician and would act accordingly. I had never had recourse to try a blindfold before, having a general immunity to the doe-eyes of the women who normally ended up in the chair. Perhaps my dozen or so years of self-enforced chastity were taking their toll. Still, she was European royalty and I was feeling but a base animal.
I knew that I had a black eye-cover that I would use if I wished to grab forty winks when my medical diary showed a break. I retrieved it from the drawer of my desk.
Walking back I couldn't help but notice the Contessa staring at me. "Do you do this often?" she asked, alternating between looking at my face and my nether regions.
"Not at all, this is my first time," I replied. The glint in her eye told me that she wasn't sure whether or not to believe me, but she was taking it as a compliment.
I stood behind her; she looked up at me and smiled, which I returned. She lifted her head forward allowing me to blindfold her. From this angle the top of her breasts were visible under the loose material of the gown and clearly blushed, rising and falling with the deep breaths the Contessa was taking. Unlike the more matronly women who came for my services, her breasts were beautifully pert and pointing to the skies. They were also slightly flushed. I'm not certain that I didn't sigh, because I heard the Contessa suppress a giggle. I felt my manhood twitch, tightly bound in my trousers.
I returned to what would be the business end of the chair, easing myself onto my seat. That was entirely uncomfortable, but I would take care of it in a minute.
I reached across to the trolley and picked up the excitation device which was connected by an electrical lead to the power supply in the cabinet. I pushed the switch on it, turning it on. It vibrated with a deep throb, once per second. It was ceramic, five and one half inches long, and shaped like a fat cigar tube. Inside the casing the electromechanical machinery was quiet at this speed. I could hear the Contessa's breathing speed up in anticipation, and could see her breasts heaving. My manhood felt trapped with nowhere to go.