Kitty waited in the anteroom with her mother and Dolly. All three of them sat with their gloves on and their hats pinned securely as if they were at tea. Unfortunately, they were not at tea. They were at Dr Eichbaum’s St Petersburg surgery.
The excitement of getting an appointment with such a distinguished practitioner had subdued somewhat, now that they were here. Every visit to a doctor involved endurance and privation and this would be no exception. Kitty had seen sufficient doctors, (with their falsely compassionate expressions and their prescriptions for calomel and purging and cold baths) to know this was going to be an unpleasant experience.
At intervals, a thin stick of a woman, Nurse Olga, would enter the room, with some papers for Mama and questions and Mama would do that irritating thing all parents do; talk about their offspring as if they were absent.
Yes, her Mama said, Kitty has trouble sleeping. Yes, she has crying fits. No, she won’t eat properly. No, she won’t take walks in the park. Her embroidery gives her headaches, she refuses to go to balls or concerts and all she wants to do is sit in her room, with the curtains closed and write melancholy poems. The nurse pursed her wrinkled little mouth and wrote everything down.
Kitty found her mood shifting from lethargy to fury. She was 18 years old and quite grown up enough to answer these questions for herself. But apparently not. She must be treated like an infant, just because she’d turned down an unwanted marriage proposal, and made herself an object of gossip. And yet, here she was at yet another doctor’s surgery and probably about to undergo another bloodletting.
The door opened and the nurse entered again. She stood upright, all starch and officiousness from her elastic sided boots to her crisp, white cap.
‘The Doctor will see you now, Princess Ekaterina.’
Kitty stood up. Her mother’s face was wan and Dolly didn’t dare meet her gaze but gave a wave of the hand. Then she was through the heavy door, following the nurse closely down a corridor of white tile, harsh electric lights and hissing pipes. They passed door after door, inset with grilles. Some of the rooms were dark and other brightly lit. At one latticed window, she saw a woman, who quickly darted away. It gave Kitty a disagreeable feeling, a kind of anxiety that cooled her anger and made her wonder what exactly the Doctor did here.
The nurse’s rapid boots squeaked to a stop outside a pair of double doors.
‘Just wait here if you would, your highness.’
‘Call me Kitty, please’ Kitty protested at her title’s grandeur; she’d be able to endure the coming examination if the atmosphere was a little more informal. The nurse gave a curt nod, and stepped through the forbidding doors.
Alone in the antiseptic corridor, Kitty was at leisure to examine her surroundings. There were a lot of the little rooms. She thought they were for patients but they did rather look prison cells. The whole clinic was cold and inhospitable and she wished she’d never come. In the distance came a long, ululating cry that startled her. As if it were a signal, the nurse pushed through the double doors and beckoned her into the surgery.
‘That’s right. In here! ‘ The nurse was full of false cheer which didn’t help her nervousness at all. ‘This is Dr. Eichbaum.’
Dr Eichbaum was not an imposing man. He was of medium build, with a pointed little beard and swept back hair, dressed in a long white coat over rather formal clothes. Being a German scholar, he had a duelling scar under his left eye. It rather heightened his very direct gaze. He glared at her through a pince-nez, which he sharply removed before coming unnervingly close. He looked at her longer than was comfortable and there was no hint of ‘Pleased to meet you’, no handshake. Just the examining stare.
‘Nurse, please prepare the patient.’ He strode further into the surgery and pushed back a screen to reveal a little padded chair, which stood right in front of a very strange device. It was a box as tall as a wardrobe, of polished wood. Set into it, in a regular pattern, were round dials such as she’d seen in the cabins of trains. Long appendages protruded from the case. Some were rubber and some were metal and they all looked horribly efficient. Her heart sank. More bloodletting. Dr Eichbaum left the room, presumably to bring lancets and bowls.
As she stood there, feeling rather despondent, the nurse came and beckoned her behind a screen.
‘We need to make you ready, so I’ll help you undress.’ Olga said, already pulling the laces from Kitty’s bodice. ‘You need to be completely stripped so that the Doctor can make a thorough examination. Now, now, don’t be silly! The Doctor isn’t going to hurt you and he sees hundreds of naked young ladies. If you’re going to be obstructive, Dr Eichbaum will be obliged to issue a sedative and order restraints.’
With excruciating embarrassment, Kitty allowed herself to be peeled right down to her shivering skin. The nurse had clearly undressed young ladies of quality many times, as she knew where to loosen tapes and where to unhook seams. Kitty stood there, rather hunched over, with her hands attempting to cover the small rise of her breasts and the neat triangle of her mons pubis. It was so cold in the surgery her breasts prickled and pointed at the tips. The nurse, however, didn’t seem impressed at all.
‘Now, into the chair. Quickly!’ Nurse Olga’s brisk tone spurred Kitty into action. She couldn’t see the Doctor and was relieved he wasn’t there to see her awkward haste as she climbed into the utilitarian seat. The nurse draped a white sheet over her, from her breasts to her knees, much to the girl’s relief. Kitty sat in the padded leather seat, feet on little rubber stops, hands on the armrest where the nurse had instructed her to place them. Behind her, the nurse seemed to be adjusting the machine. There was the sound of clicks and taps, something was unscrewed and twice she heard a sharp crackle of sound and the hair on the back of her pale, slim arms stood on end.
She was still trying to see what the nurse was doing when Dr Eichbaum came back into the surgery. He marched straight to Kitty and peered at her again, very closely, staring into her eyes through his lenses. His gaze moved over her face and down her sheet-draped body and gave an inspecting look to her hands. Then he straightened up, pulled off the pince-nez and tapped them into his palm.
‘Uncover the patient, nurse. Everything is ready.’ At his words, the machinery behind Kitty began to thrum and rumble, as if some huge engine revolved inside it. In alarm, she strained her head around to see it and cried out as the nurse swooped forward and remove the covering sheet with one sharp flick. The doctor remained there, still tapping his palm with his glasses, his gaze now moving over her body and then, to her horror, directly between her legs. She clamped her knees together, for modesty’s sake.
The doctor walked away to his imposing desk, ‘The restraints, please, nurse.’
The nurse leaned forward with a practised motion. She grabbed one of Kitty’s hands, holding it down while reaching out and pulling a metal arch right over the other wrist, pinning it. Kitty was so shocked, she had no time to protest before both hands were securely locked in place and she was left tugging ineffectually against the cuffs. Nurse Olga then moved behind her and bent over; there was a loud creak of hinges and a padded bar swung up from under the seat and pressed Kitty’s ankles against the chair frame. She was caught like a mouse in a trap.
‘She’d secure, Doctor. I don’t think we’ll have any accidents this time.’
The doctor peered over his lenses. ‘I hope not.’ He moved across the room, his attention on a sheet of papers before dropping them onto an instrument table behind Kitty’s chair.
‘Humm.’ he began, stroking his beard once. ’Humm.’ He adjusted his pince-nez and looped a stethoscope into each ear, leaning over the chair to place its cold rubber disc on her body between her breasts. He listened to her heart, with his eyes rolled up in contemplation. ’Humm. Well, I think the usual treatment should suffice. Green sickness. Hysteria. It’s all part of the burden of the fair sex.’ He walked to the centre of the room, never taking his eyes off Kitty, and stood there, one hand on his cheek, the other across his body, as if her observation was to be a lengthy matter.
Whatever the usual treatment was, Nurse Olga was well versed in it. She took a pair of yellow rubber gauntlets from the instrument table, and pulled them on, tugging at the wrist and flexing the fingers together, much as Kitty did with her kidskin gloves before a ball.
The nurse brought out a kidney bowl, and began dabbing at Kitty’s collarbone with an astringent solution. It was icy cold, making the flesh roughen up into goose pimples and the points of her breasts rise and stiffen, turning a dark pink. Nurse Olga continued to stipple the cold fluid on the skin, slowly working her way up to the nipples themselves. She disappeared behind the chair and unhooked something from the machine, a pair of long thread-wrapped wires, which ended in a little metal clasp. Kitty bit her lip in anxiety when she saw them, and squeaked when the nurse reached out and took firm hold of an exposed breast. The clasps opened under pressure from the fingers but, despite her best effort, Nurse Olga couldn’t attach them to Kitty’s nipples.
The doctor, watching all this time, gave an irritated sigh. ‘Well, you’ll just have to draw them out as best you can, Nurse. I can’t possibly do the procedure if I can’t monitor the patient.’
‘Yes, Doctor.’ The woman hooked the wires to the chair and moved in front of Kitty. She had an expression of mild distaste as she reached out with both gloves hands and wrapped them around the fullness of Kitty’s breasts. Kitty jolted in the chair from shock but the nurse did not pull away. Instead, her fingers began to move, gently squeezing and flexing. The heat of her hands warmed the skin, and the nurse slid her fingers to the nipples. She pinched each one, and gently rotated them between finger and thumb. Kitty was horrified. It didn’t hurt but it produced such feeling of such shame her face flooded with colour. It made no difference what she felt; the nurse persevered with her earnest manipulation of each little berry of flesh until it stood proud. Then she tried again to attach the clamps, to no avail.
Nurse Olga gave a glance to the doctor. He waved his hand with an air of exasperation, issuing his consent. The nurse then stepped onto the bar of the chair, rising up over Kitty. She gripped Kitty’s shoulders and, to the girl’s horrified disbelief, bent down and took a nipple in her puckered lips. The woman put Kitty’s breast right inside her mouth, as if she was a nursing infant! The girl began to squirm away, but the nurse held her firmly by the shoulders and her wrinkled mouth worked on the pale soft flesh as if she was sucking on a peach. Her tongue could be felt probing around and around the nipple, forcing it to aching rigidity, while her cheeks worked in and out to keep the suction. It all felt so strange, so new, that Kitty was dizzy, her breath coming in gasps despite her dismay. The nurse grabbed the clasp and opened it. With a jerk of her head, she stretched out the nipple, holding it between her yellow teeth. The clasp snapped shut, gripping the little red button between its metal jaws.
Doctor Eichbaum nodded. ‘You do so well with the more difficult patients, Olga.’ The nurse gave him a thankful smile, before turning her energies to Kitty’s other nipple, licking and nibbling and sucking, until she was again able to pull on the flesh like pink caramel, clipping the clasp tight. Kitty stared at the metal pinchers in a panic. They didn’t hurt terribly, but there was a vague burning sensation and a tension that ran all the way from the clamps right down to the sinful place between her spread thighs.
Kitty’s breasts were then presented for inspection. The doctor peered at them, clamped and still shining with Nurse Olga‘s saliva. His intensely dark eyes were so piercing that it was almost as if his glance was palpable, a tickle of pressure on her skin. He continued his gaze, down her body to her navel, and tapped it with a manicured finger.
‘Swab it, would you’?’
The nurse brought out the kidney basin again, and took a fluff of cotton on her forceps, wiping the cold liquid around the rim of Kitty’s belly button. She held it up for the doctor’s inspection.’ Very good. Clean habits.’ The Doctor patted Kitty’s leg, clearly satisfied. He took hold of her knees and abruptly pushed her thighs wide part, applying that same hard glare to her most hidden secrets. His face came very close; his prominent nose was almost buried in her private hair. Something had caught his attention. He adjusted his lenses and looked a moment longer, before standing up with a frown.
‘She’s still intact!’ he said to Nurse Olga, almost as an accusation. ‘I can’t do anything if she’s still a virgin! What are these mothers thinking about? Bah!‘
He paced backwards and forwards in front of the chair, the lenses tap-tapping into his palm as he considered what to do. ‘Very well. She has a cruciform hymen, so you’ll need to use the cusped retractor until you can get some leverage.’ He nodded at the nurse who turned to the machine and started pulling knobs and opening valves.
Behind her, Kitty heard the note of the apparatus change, from a low purring to a deep, powerful throbbing.
Nurse Olga leaned in and gave her a yellow smile.
Dr Eichbaum came forward, not looking at Kitty, or the nurse, or even the bulbous flexible pipe Nurse Olga held in her hand. He was looking at the machine, occasionally reaching forward to rap on the glass of a dial. Every time he tapped, he gave the machine an admiring smile that stretched the duelling scar on his cheekbone.
‘We do seem to be ready. Prepare the instrument!’ He gave a prod of his pince-nez in the general direction of Kitty’s most intimate parts.
Kitty’s sense of horror was heightened when Nurse Olga brought the instrument into better view. It was thick, thick around as a cucumber, long as a woman’s forearm and made of dark red rubber. She cried out, struggling in the seat to bring her knees together. She knew enough of the matter to be sure the nurse was going to introduce this fearsome object into the cavity of her body. There was no way she could endure it.
‘Silly girl!’ snapped the nurse. ‘You’ll break something if you keep that up!’ and with a strength that belied her scrawny frame she laid hold of Kitty’s left knee, The Doctor gripped her right knee and together they widened Kitty’s straining, trembling thighs.
Kitty continued to struggle and protest, in terms that were increasingly desperate, as Nurse Olga lowered the broad rod between her legs and held it, with its blunt nose nudging the equilateral triangle of hair.
‘See, we’re not going to hurt you!’ Nurse Olga depressed a button on the rod and it began to make a thrumming noise, its bulb resting on the pad of flesh on her mons pubis.
It didn’t hurt. The sensation was so unexpected, that Kitty stopped her frantic pleading and looked down in surprise. The dark bulging tip, big as a tomato, was somehow moving very rapidly. It moved fast, but in tiny movements so she couldn’t actually see anything as it hummed against her skin. Oh, but she could feel it! A constant vibration, like hummingbird wings or an alarm clock or…
Kitty sagged a little in the chair. The sensation of the fat little tube was spreading out, from a small area of buzzy heat, to a wider pool of strange delight. As the nurse drew tiny circles in the tangle of her hair, the feeling grew and she had no choice but to catch her breath and gasp aloud. Both the doctor and the nurse left go of her knees. Kitty kept them wide apart herself, oddly eager for the instrument’s quivering touch. She felt herself swell out, somehow, as if hidden parts of her were expanding in interest, and the seat under her started to feel sticky.
‘Oh! I can’t breathe!’ Her cry made Dr Eichbaum apply his stethoscope to her breasts, between the wires clamped to her nipples. He listened for a while, his head on one side, before giving her thigh a reassuring squeeze.
‘You’re fine. Lungs and heart, strong as an ox, unlike some of the Russian aristocracy. Carry on, nurse, while I monitor the patient.’ He flicked his gaze up over the bouncing needles in the dials, apparently satisfied, while the stethoscope listened to the princess’s fluttering heart.
Nurse Olga seemed to know her work. She gently poked at the coiled curls for a while, like a dog’s inquisitive nose. Then, she brought the stick down, dragging its vibrations over the slitted skin and gently stroking, back and forth, back and forth. A tiny area seemed most insistent that it needed to be touched and Kitty’s hips rose every time the bulbous tip passed over the spot.
She gasped at the fierce little prickle that grew in urgency, with her thighs straining wide. Dr Eichbaum paused in his monitoring and gave a stern glance to the state of her sinful womanhood, which felt as if it had swollen like a plum, a plump, ticklish plum that dripped juice onto the chair. The nurse and the doctor seemed to be in discussion, with both of their heads staring between her legs and all the while. the trembling rubber knob danced in victory over that
magical little place. She trembled with it, her buttocks clear of the seat, mouth wide as she watched the flexible tip flick lightly at a little nodule of flesh, like a pink pearl, hidden in the folds of her womanhood.
‘Any moment now.’ murmured Dr Eichbaum, head tilted to listen to Kitty’s cantering heart.
Kitty suddenly spasmed against the restraints, her open mouth crying out a long string of ‘Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!’ as the most delicious sensation spiralled up from the point of the rubber stick. It filled her with heat and delight as she bounced up and down on the chair, toes flexing and hands grasping. A splash of something sprayed out from her, deftly caught by Dr Eichbaum in a clean kidney basin.
Panting, like she’d won a race, Kitty sagged in the chair. Her skin glowed over her throat and chest, and her legs still trembled, even as the rod was withdrawn and hung on the throbbing machine behind her seat. Nurse Olga gave her knee a gentle pat.
‘That wasn’t too bad, was it? It’s to get you ready, my dear, so I can use this.’
She pulled a glass cap from a bright, steel tube. It wasn’t as thick as the first rod and it wasn’t smooth. Instead, it was made of ridges, running top to bottom, as wide as a finger.
‘But you’re not quite ready yet. First we have to make you slippery.’
Dr Eichbaum was staring at the specimen of fluid he’d collected from Kitty’s hysterical paroxysm. He shook his head. ‘I don’t think the usual olive oil will do. You’ll have to augment it, nurse.’
Nurse Olga gave a nod of understanding.
To be continued…