“And when your guardian inspected you, afterward?” the doctor asked gently, on the view screen. The clinic spared no expense: whoever was directing the presentation of this little drama to Priscilla’s bridegroom had at least two cameras between which he could cut, so that William got to see both Dr. Gowdy’s patient expression and Priscilla’s deep blush, accentuated wonderfully by the milk-white pallor of her skin.

  William couldn’t keep the smile from his face at the sight of that blush. He had felt sure Priscilla’s body had yielded to his goodnight kiss in the most delightful way, and she had made a wonderful little sound deep in her throat that seemed to suggest he might have awakened feelings she hadn’t even known she could experience.

  He had known from the beginning that Priscilla Auden might have that kind of spark inside her. At the school début dance when he had decided she would be the girl he courted, he had seen her blush and turn away when he caught her looking at him. He had put his name on the list for consideration by her guardian and her parents, knowing full well that he could have any girl he wanted, but so enchanted by her blush and by the sight of her sweet young breasts and slim hips demurely covered in the pink silk of her coming-out gown that he felt he couldn’t make another choice.

  Each potential suitor was only allowed one dance with any girl at the début, but William had tried to make the most of his with Priscilla, not venturing to take liberties with the hand with which he held her narrow waist, as some of the other administrative-class men would try to do—the more so because they knew their wealth allowed them to escape censure—but waltzing skillfully and moving her across the floor with a light touch until he could tell she had become wonderfully dizzy. He did not think that her parents would give her a say in accepting him or refusing him either as suitor or as husband, but Priscilla’s shy little face, framed in its red curls, had already made her so dear to him that he wanted to make her feel a regard for him that might become, in time, the sort of worshipful love a bride should feel for her bridegroom.

  On the view screen Priscilla lowered her eyes again, as she already had so many times. William wondered how he could enjoy her embarrassment so very much and yet also pity her for it. Whatever the answer might be, he felt the urge to take his girl in his arms and shield her from the gazes of the world—of doctor and parents and guardian. Her blushes would be for her husband, henceforth.

  “Mr. Tester made me take off my clothes and bend over,” she whispered, “and then he said he smelled immorality.”

  “And he punished you?”

  “Yes, doctor.”

  “How?”

  “He made me lie on my bed over a pillow, to raise my bottom up, and he whipped me with the family strap.”

  The picture cut to a quick close-up of Mrs. Auden, whose cheeks had become a little pink themselves. William wondered how often Mr. Auden applied that same strap to his wife’s backside, and how frequently the elegant matron had her governor turned up to its highest setting. Perhaps she was well-governed, as men called it when they turned a girl’s pleasure up, right now, under her elegant gown, aching for the release only her husband could give.

  “And how did being punished for your immorality that way make you feel?” the doctor asked.

  The view shifted to Priscilla, once again looking down, a tear now appearing in her right eye but not falling.

  “Ashamed,” she whispered.

  “Not ashamed enough!” her mother exclaimed.

  “Oh, mother!” Priscilla said, but very softly and as if defeated.

  “Tell the doctor what I found you doing the very next night!”

  “Please, mother.”

  William’s cock had grown so hard that he considered pressing the call button and at least having a blowjob from the pleasure girl after all, but he decided to keep his vow of fortitude. He would have to wait until tomorrow, according to statute, to have his first premarital visit, but surely—perhaps with the help of a cold shower—he could remain strong until then. Even the prospect of enjoying Priscilla for the first time, once the doctor had installed his blushing fiancée’s governor, though, barely provided the incentive necessary to restrain himself from adding to his enjoyment of the scene unfolding now with a little female help.

  “Mrs. Auden, again I think you should try to remember,” the doctor said gently, “what it felt like to be nineteen yourself, when Mr. Auden came to take you in hand. Perhaps you were never punished yourself as a young bride, to guard you from immorality…”

  But now the screen showed that the color had actually risen higher in Mrs. Auden’s cheeks. Dr. Gowdy clearly saw it, for he paused in his little speech. Priscilla, as if not knowing the reason for the interruption, looked up at her mother with a startled expression in her eyes, and she clearly saw the blush as well.

  “Mother!” Priscilla said in a shocked little voice.

  It was Grace Auden’s turn to look down at the black handbag in her lap. “It’s not appropriate that we discuss it, Priscilla,” she said quietly. “Just as you won’t discuss this with your own daughter. I would like you to be a better girl than I was, though, and to need less discipline than I needed.”

  “But…” Priscilla said.

  “No, Miss Auden, your mother is right,” the doctor said smoothly. “But perhaps it will help both of you to remember that courtship and married life are full of hazards of this kind, and that Miss Auden is here specifically in order that she learn about the medical means endorsed by the government to keep young ladies’ households in order, and marital discipline to a minimum.”

  The picture shifted back to Priscilla; apparently she hadn’t expected the doctor to turn the conversation in that particular direction. No, William thought, of course you didn’t, darling. You’re expecting a routine exam, aren’t you? Today you’ll learn much more than you really would like to learn about your bridegroom’s expectations and privileges.

  “I… I don’t understand…” Priscilla began.

  “You will understand soon,” Dr. Gowdy said, patting her shoulder. “For now, though I know it will be rather embarrassing, please do tell me what happened the next night after your guardian whipped you for giving in to that immorality when Mr. Verner kissed you.”

  Priscilla still seemed desperate to avoid the confession. She looked from the doctor to her mother and back, but found no mercy there. She looked down again at her little hands, folded in her lap.

  “I touched myself,” she whispered.

  “Where, Miss Auden?”

  “In the bathtub?” She looked up uncertainly, confused by the ambiguous question.

  “No, Miss Auden. I think you know what I meant.”

  Priscilla looked down. “Between my legs,” she mumbled.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Auden, but it’s important that I have as precise an idea as I can get of what you were doing. If you won’t tell me, I’ll have to ask your mother what she saw. It’s vital to your happiness as a young bride that you can frankly confess the immoral, pleasure-seeking behavior in which I gather you engaged. For a young lady to touch herself between her legs is not by its nature an immoral act. I can tell, though, from your face and your voice that your mother found you doing a good deal more than that.”

  “I certainly did!” Mrs. Auden apparently couldn’t restrain herself from saying.

  “Please, Mrs. Auden. Don’t make this more difficult for your daughter than it has to be. Now, Miss Auden, I do need you to tell me, though. Did you abuse yourself? Did you use your fingers to try to make the immorality your guardian found the previous night return?”

  William smiled though the stiffness in his trousers made him shift in the easy chair.

  “Yes,” Priscilla whispered.

  Chapter Three

  “How long were you abusing yourself before your mother discovered you?”

  Oh, how could Dr. Gowdy even say such things?

  “I don’t know,” Priscilla replied almost in a sob, squeezing her eyes shut and willing the doctor’s office just to vanish. “A few minutes?”

  “Mrs. Auden, was she close to a climax, do you think? Or had she had one, perhaps?”

  Climax? Interested despite the terrible heat in her face, Priscilla opened her eyes again and looked at the doctor’s really very kindly face as he turned his attention to her mother.

  “I don’t think so, doctor?” said Grace Auden doubtfully. “She certainly wasn’t making very much noise.”

  No, I wasn’t, Priscilla thought, remembering. Even though I felt like I wanted to.

  Her fingers, slippery with soap, playing in the crisp, curly red hair. Thinking about William, about William kissing her. About William inspecting her, and telling her he had to take care of the immorality he found, as only a husband could do.

  About William being the one who put her over the pillow and whipped her bare bottom until she cried out into the covers, then held her tight afterward, kissing her and calling her a good girl.

  She had felt like something lay out of reach, some kind of release, but her mother had come brusquely in without even a knock upon the bathroom door and caught her.

  “And did you have a servant whip her there in the bathroom?”

  “No, I made her dry off and then go to her bed and lie on it, while I told our housekeeper to fetch the strap. It’s the way she’s always been punished.”

  “Naked, always?” the doctor asked blandly.

  “Yes, doctor. Isn’t that the way recommended for young ladies, once they reach eighteen and the time has come to use the strap?”

  “Indeed. Indeed. To enlist their shame in correcting their behavior.” He made a few notes on his tablet, then turned to Priscilla. “Did you learn your lesson, Miss Auden?”

  “Yes, doctor,” Priscilla said meekly. It had seemed so hard not just to try to soothe herself that way again, especially after Mrs. Perkins had allowed her to get up and put on her nightgown over her terribly sore bottom, and she had lain awake practically the whole night thinking still about William. But she had restrained herself nevertheless.

  “I’m glad to hear it. A young bride can get herself into a good deal of trouble with her husband if he catches her abusing herself. Many men punish that kind of immorality in their wives with the cane instead of the strap.”

  Priscilla gave a little gasp. “But surely…”

  “Ask your mother, Miss Auden, if you don’t believe me. It’s an infrequent occurrence, thank goodness, but the stories do get themselves told.”

  Priscilla turned her eyes to her mother’s face, to see a furrow on Grace Auden’s brow. She nodded, tight-lipped. “Yes, Priscilla. Pay attention to Dr. Gowdy, now. Doctor, should I excuse myself?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Auden. It’s time for the private part of the examination. Miss Auden, I’ll be explaining a bit more about that sort of immorality after your mother has left us. Go ahead and get undressed, please, and hop up on the table.”

  Grace rose and kissed Priscilla on the forehead. “Be a good girl,” she said, looking down into her daughter’s face.

  “Do I have to take everything off?” Priscilla said pleadingly, turning to Dr. Gowdy.

  “Of course,” said the doctor. “Just as you would for an inspection by your guardian, or for a whipping.”

  She looked up at her mother desperately.

  “Remember what you learned in school, Priscilla,” her mother said. “A Prosperian young lady must be modest, but she must also be obedient. It will be easier when you are married and you have Mr. Verner to instruct you.”

  “Exactly,” said Dr. Gowdy. “This is a confusing time for you, Miss Auden. I know it’s difficult, but I’m here to help, just as your guardian was during courtship. It won’t be long now until Mr. Verner takes you in hand, and then your duties will be much clearer to you. Indeed, that’s what we’ll discuss now, once your mother has gone and you’ve gotten undressed for me.”

  “I’ll see you in a few minutes, Priscilla,” Mrs. Auden said firmly, giving her another kiss but then turning and walking to the door.

  Priscilla looked at the doctor and found his face still kindly, but now a little firmer. The door closed behind her mother, and still she found she couldn’t move.

  “Miss Auden,” Dr. Gowdy said, “the law gives me the authority to paddle you, if I must, to ensure your compliance.” He pulled open his top desk drawer and took out a long wooden paddle with air holes cut into it—the same kind they used at school on the over-eighteen girls. Priscilla had had to watch her friend Marjorie Jenks punished in front of the class with it, for getting an F on a quiz. She swallowed hard, thinking of Marjorie upended over the punishment stool, her skirts raised and pinned and her drawers taken down in front of everyone.

  “And Mr. Verner would, I’m afraid, probably spank you as well, on his first premarital visit. A bridegroom who hears his bride has been naughty at the doctor’s usually takes the girl over his knee to make sure she understands he won’t stand for such misbehavior.”

  “Premarital visit?” Priscilla whispered.

  Dr. Gowdy nodded. “We’re going to discuss that, too.” He sighed. “I can tell you’re a good, sweet, obedient girl, Miss Auden. As I said, I know how confusing this all is. But I have many patients to see, and if I have to use my paddle I won’t hesitate.”

  Biting her lip, Priscilla stood up and began to unlace her gown. Two thousand years of the development of fashion had left Prosperians with the ability to cover themselves—and their women and girls in particular—with very modest and even restrictive garments that imitated the Victorian Age on Earth but which could nevertheless be donned and doffed without the help of servants. Upper-class Prosperians did of course have servants from the practical class—footmen, parlor maids, butlers, housekeepers—but the Victorian custom of the body servant had been deemed dispensable by the founders, Priscilla had learned in school. At a touch, her corset and petticoats parted to leave her in chemise and drawers.

  “You may hang your gown on the stand in the corner,” the doctor said, looking up from his notes. “Then take your underwear off.”

  Blushing, Priscilla hung her gown, which rearranged itself into its resting configuration, smoothing out a few wrinkles as it did so. Her underwear had no such technological advancements: the chemise down to her knees and the pantalets that hung with a scalloped edge just below the chemise’s hem, both of white muslin. Priscilla reached under the chemise and untied the knot at the waist of the drawers, trying not to think about what she did.

  It had been terribly shameful to have to undress for Mr. Tester’s inspections, but something about having to undress for the doctor seemed worse, because of the unknown but obviously intensely embarrassing things about which he intended to speak to her now.

  She dropped her drawers and stood with her heart racing, until she had found the courage to loosen the string at her chemise’s neck. Then, very quickly and trying not to look at anything but the examination table, she tugged the garment over her head. She bent down, willing herself not to imagine the doctor’s eyes on her naked, bending form and failing. She picked up her undergarments.

  “You may put those on the chair,” said the doctor. He had taken a stand at the end of the table, and he seemed to be fiddling with something. When Priscilla turned back from laying her chemise and drawers on the chair, she saw that the table had undergone a transformation into a kind of seat, with two metal extensions emerging, raised to either side. Plastic fixtures with straps attached made the ends of the extensions.

  “Hop up here,” said Dr. Gowdy, patting the part of the seat where Priscilla could see her bottom must go. “Knees in the stirrups.”

  “Stirrups?” she asked. Suddenly a vision of what she would look like filled her mind, and she took a little step backward, covering her breasts with her right arm and putting her left in front of the furry place between her legs that seemed, according to Mr. Tester and her mother, the source of such immorality.

  The doctor picked up the paddle from his desk and tapped it sharply against his other hand. “Miss Auden, please don’t make this harder than it must be. I know it will seem embarrassing, but it’s important to your future husband that you be prepared for him to take you in hand properly. The part of you I must examine now—the part you played with in the bathtub—is the part of you over which Mr. Verner must exercise his authority most strongly. Part of the purpose of this premarital exam is to help you understand that when Mr. Verner tells you to spread your legs and show him your most private places, you have no right to disobey. Let’s make sure you get off on the right foot, alright?”

  Priscilla’s breath came in little gasps through her nose. She opened her mouth, but could not think of anything to say, nor did she think she could have made a sound if she had thought of something. She watched Dr. Gowdy tap the paddle on his hand again, and looked up into his face to see him raise his eyebrows as if inquiring whether she would obey him and spread her knees into those horrid stirrups or suffer the consequences from the paddle now—and apparently also from William sometime soon.

  But William would never spank her, would he? Or… cane her? Even if she did that thing again, he wouldn’t, would he? Somehow she had thought that because he kissed her like that, maybe William would tell her she was allowed to touch herself, as long as she let him watch.

  Thinking of William—Mr. Verner, she corrected herself—Priscilla managed to take a step forward, then another, fixing her eyes only on the examination table, or chair, or whatever the terrible thing was. She used the little footstool to climb awkwardly onto it. She bit her lip and, refusing to look down but unable to keep herself from imagining what she looked like, she spread her legs and found that her knees actually fit rather comfortably into the stirrups.

 

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