Dorothea Simms wobbled and nearly lost her balance as she tried to dodge the large puddle that had formed right in front of the door of the doctor’s office. Thankfully, it was her boots that ended up a bit damp, and not the rest of her. ‘Imagine that!’ she thought. ‘What an absolutely frightful sight to arrive at the doctor’s soaked through.’

She could still hear the rain hitting the roof as she opened the door of the building and made her way to the small desk. A rather nice looking young fellow was sitting behind the desk, and, clearly bored, was reading the morning paper. 

Dorothea cleared her throat. The young man fumbled slightly, but put his paper aside, straightened himself up, and, his cheeks flushing slightly, attended to her.

‘Name, please, Madam?’

‘Mrs Dorothea Simms.’

The young gentleman shuffled a few papers around, looking for something, and then said, ‘Are you here to see Dr. Tavistock?’

‘I am, yes.’

‘Excellent. He is just with another patient, but will see to you shortly.’

‘Thank you,’ Dorothea said.

Turning to leave, so she could sit down and wait, she heard the young man ask, ‘Excuse me, Madam, are you the daughter of Mr Roger Simms?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘I am his wife.’

Again, the young man flushed, clearly embarrassed. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled.

‘How do you know my husband?’

‘My father does business with him, on occasion.’

Dorothea smiled softly. ‘Quite,’ she replied.

She went and sat down and waited for Dr. Tavistock, her mind wandering as she floated off into her own little world. She could’ve sworn she heard her husband’s angry voice, accusing her. ‘You’re away with the fairies again, Dorothea! Pay attention.’ Retreating into herself and going off into her own little world was all she could do to endure such a hideous man, and such a hideous match.

The last time she had come to see Dr. Tavistock was just over two years ago, when she was not long married to Roger. She’d come here to procure certain tools, so that she wouldn’t fall pregnant. If she had Roger’s baby, it would make it harder for her to leave him. But today she was here for an altogether different reason.

Dr. Tavistock came out into the waiting room, a homely looking woman walking out beside him. Everything about her was short and round; from the shape and size of her body, to her face and cheeks. She was looking very bonny and rosy-faced, and she thanked Dr. Tavistock several times.

Accepting a folder of papers from the young man behind the old oak desk, the Doctor smiled and said, ‘Please, follow me Mrs Simms.’

Once inside the Dr’s private room, Dorothea noticed an unusual smell. Her nose crinkled slightly, trying to identify the scent. It smelled vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.

‘How may I help you today Mrs Simms?’ asked the Doctor. He was a handsome man, with intense, curious blue eyes, that Dorothea imagined saw everything. He didn’t seem like the kind of man to miss much about a person. His light brown hair was clipped short and fashionable, as was his beard, and the clothes he wore were new and smart and they looked like they were made on the Continent, rather than in England. He smelled of rich tobacco.

Dorothea felt foolish all of a sudden, and she hesitated slightly. Dr. Tavistock raised an eyebrow, questioning her. ‘As of late, Doctor, I’ve found I’ve been very frustrated with just about everything, and I know not the cause of this. My moods too, have been irregular. One moment I can be choleric and angry, and the next, indescribably jubilant. I’ve started biting my fingernails,’ she said. To prove her point, she held up her hands, where indeed, the Doctor saw that the nails had been nibbled at and were ragged looking. If she continued this, there was no doubt that she’d bite down to the quick and potentially do some real damage.

Dorothea continued. ‘Some days I feel so angry and pent up, that I could just burst, but alas, I am unsure of how to release these feelings or how to calm myself down.’

‘I see,’ Dr Tavistock said.

‘It was thought that an Aunt of mine suffered from an affliction of the mind, and she was always prescribed laudanum when she was feeling particularly tense and angry, or even if she was too happy.’

‘I see,’ he repeated. He inhaled and then exhaled deeply, studying Dorothea’s face. ‘And you’d like me to write you a prescription for laudanum, Mrs Simms?’

‘If you believe it to be the right thing to do, Doctor.’

He was silent for a moment, thinking this over. He tilted his head slightly and looked at her curiously. She was a pretty young woman, it had to be said. He of course was aware who her husband was, and frankly, he thought it a shame that she was married to an old man.

‘Would you please remove your shoes and get up onto my examination table, Mrs Simms?’ asked the Doctor. Carefully, and with more grace and dignity than he was used to seeing, she gently got up on the table and lay down. ‘Have you heard of female hysteria?’

‘I have.’

‘Do you know how it is treated?’

‘I have heard only rumours, Doctor,’ Dorothea said.

Dr. Tavistock smiled to himself. ‘I enjoy rumours. Tell me what you’ve heard.’

Dorothea hesitated, feeling embarrassed, but in a small voice, she said, ‘I had heard that sexual intercourse is a treatment.’

‘Not sexual intercourse,’ said the Doctor, correcting her. ‘No, there are other methods.’

‘Am I suffering from female hysteria?’ asked Dorothea.

‘If you are left untreated, you may very well become hysterical.’ There was a pause, and all Dr. Tavistock could hear was the loud ticking of the clock on his desk and Dorothea’s rapid breathing. ‘If you would please raise and spread your legs.’

Again, Dorothea felt unsure, but she did as was told. After all, he was a Doctor, and she was the patient. He knew what he was doing. Her knees bent and feet flat against the examination table, she felt Dr. Tavistock pull down her stockings and lift and fold back the many layers of her clothing. Thank goodness the wide crinoline was on the way out.

She felt a distinct waft of cool air against her inner thighs, as well as her nether regions. She felt tense and nervous. Her wretched husband was the only man thus far to see her nakedness. She felt intensely vulnerable. The only way she could calm herself was to try and retreat back into the corners of her mind and into her fantasy world.

‘If you could please try and relax, Mrs Simms?’

Dorothea tried to calm her breathing, becoming very conscious of her inhales and exhales. When she felt his fingers touch her sensitive inner thigh, she yelped. ‘It’s quite alright, Mrs Simms.’ His fingers traveled further up her thigh until he was near to her most private parts. He inched slowly nearer the area and stroked the dark triangle of soft pubic hair. Dorothea closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.  ‘Now, with your permission, I’d like to treat you further? It won’t take very long.’

Dorothea swallowed hard, clenching and unclenching her fists. ‘He’s a Doctor,’ she repeated to herself. ‘He knows what he is doing.’

‘Yes,’ she answered quickly, giving herself no time to think on it more or change her mind. Dr. Tavistock traced two fingers up and down the length of her vagina. He parted the lips and saw that she was pink and puffy, her clitoris small and still hiding. Very slowly, so as not to hurt her, he pushed a finger inside, and waited for the reaction. He heard a long low moan, and when he slid his second finger inside her, she moaned again.

He felt her starting to lubricate fast around his fingers, and deciding that he may not need to use the oil, he pushed his fingers in and out a few more times, and then pulled them out for good, tracing them up the lips of her vagina and placing them near her clitoris.

Dorothea’s breathing increased more and more, as she felt something new and exciting. Her body had never had this reaction to anything before, not even with her husband, who’s lovemaking was always quick and rushed.

She felt him start to rub her, and her knees jerked. ‘It’s quite alright,’ she heard the Doctor say, his voice slightly muffled from where he was sitting at the end of the examination table, her many layers of clothing obstructing her view of him. He rubbed again, this time more gently, and Dorothea felt her body relax further, her limbs feeling nice and loose.

The gentle rubbing seemed to be having the right effect on her, so he upped the ante. He started to rub a little faster as she lubricated quickly, his fingers having no problem in gliding over her clitoris as he worked to try and cure her. His cock started to strain against his trousers, and her delicious sounding moans started to fill his office. He dare not relieve himself though, not while he was with a patient.

‘Oh my God,’ Dorothea thought, over and over again. She felt so alive and ready to burst. In her mind, she imagined walking up to a precipice and peering over. Would she take that leap and let go? Oh but it felt so good.

‘Not long now,’ Dr. Tavistock thought, as he once more picked up the pace and rubbed furiously. Her musky odor had hit him hard, his cock desperately wanting to be free. ‘Not long now,’ he repeated to himself.

Dorothea closed her eyes and imagined the precipice once more. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, and the muscles in her thighs were jerking and twitching. If she wasn’t careful, the spasms would cause her to go overboard. She gripped her skirts, and clenched, pulling them slightly higher. She was edging slowly closer, the fall was growing nearer and nearer. She had to jump, she had to.

As soon as she imagined leaping into the precipice, her body gave in and she burst. She writhed on top of the examination table, her mouth open, one long moan escaping her. Her breasts were rising and falling rapidly and her hips were rolling with the motion.

Dr. Tavistock slowed his touch of her, waiting until she had ceased to moan and her body had stilled itself once more before he removed his fingers from the area altogether. From around her ankles, he pulled her stockings back up and then folded down her skirts.

When Dorothea sat up, her face was flushed, and she was smiling widely. The Doctor looked more than satisfied with his work. He wiped his hands off and sat back down at his desk. ‘Would you still like that prescription for laudanum?’ he asked.

‘I don’t think I’ll be needing it,’ replied Dorothea.

Dr. Tavistock quickly scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to Dorothea. ‘This will be an ongoing treatment. I shall see you in two months' time.’

Dorothea Simms wobbled and lost her balance as she tried to dodge the large puddle that had formed right in front of the door of the Doctor’s office, her shoes soaked and the bottom of her skirt dragging through the puddle. She did not care.