Like a Wisp of Steam by Thomas S. Roche

and Arthur had first married, but since he'd shown no interest, Victoria had remained in this undeflowered state until now—but no longer.
    For she was about to be taken, strapped bodily into this seat with her legs spread and with curious sensations of pleasure filling her body. Good God , Victoria thought to herself. I feel as if I'll be ill ... I feel spasms coming on .
    Then, as Charles's fingers gently opened her up, Victoria gasped to feel the thickness of the "riding horn," which she now realized was ... was ... Oh, she couldn't think it. She couldn't even imagine such a thing. And even so, the sensation was so delicious. It was like being taken roughly by her husband, without the untidy business of his disinterest.
    And certainly Victoria was not to become pregnant with this procedure, was she?
    Victoria squirmed in her bonds, seized with the sudden desire to break away and run from this unacceptable intrusion into the most secret places in her body. Then, as Charles spoke to her, Victoria felt herself succumbing, surrendering, giving herself over to the unforgiving interior caress of the doctor's firm instrument.
    "Take a deep breath, my dear," Charles said to Victoria in his most soothing tone. "A deep breath..."
    "Oh God! Yes!" The unexpected shriek came from Miss Clara Brook, who was wildly riding the stationary bicycle, pumping faster and faster as she shuddered and bounced on the narrow seat. Her dress was looking quite worse for wear, almost lifted off the lower half of her body. Her moans and shrieks grew louder as she pumped faster, and sent a new intensity of vibrations into the curious wand still being held at the top of Victoria's sex by the firm hand of Dr. Charles Fitzmartin. This brought a new series of gasps and moans from Victoria's lips, as the sensations in her body suddenly increased in intensity.
    "Keep pedaling, Miss Brook," snarled Charles uncharitably.
    "It won't do to stop the treatment now, you tawdry bitch. It would be complete disaster!"
    Quite unexpectedly, a shudder went through Victoria's body at the sound of Charles using such rough language.
    Charles quickly changed his tone.
    "Forgive me, Victoria," he said smoothly. "I forgot myself.
    She can be so difficult sometimes."
    "Don't mention it," Victoria heard herself mumbling as Clara launched herself into her task with a brand new enthusiasm. Within seconds, Victoria found herself completely incapable of further reply.
    Then Charles was coaxing her further, his gentle voice caressing her ears as he instructed her to take a deep breath and then let it out. Another breath. Another. "We're very close now, Victoria ... Very close ... Just relax..."
    Then, with her fourth exhalation, there was the gentle yet forcible thrust of the doctor's instrument inside Victoria, stretching her open, penetrating her maidenhead, entering her utterly. Writhing in her restraints, Victoria let out a loud, low moan of pleasure. And as Charles thrust the shaft to its maximum depth inside her, Victoria began to thrash wildly, as an unexpected sensation came over her.
    It seemed like a wholly new experience, though she remembered it from the depths of her girlhood fantasies. She could recall this very same sensation, this feeling of release, from her long summer afternoons fantasizing about Dr.Fitzmartin, in the days of her fondest crush on the good doctor. Was there some connection?
    Victoria certainly didn't care. She was entirely swept away with the explosion of pleasure inside her, and it was as if another woman entirely were screaming the words "Fuck oh fuck oh fuck me god damn you fuck me harder you fucking prick fuck me with your cock oh fuck me." Another woman entirely. Was it also another woman bucking her hips against the leather belt, trying to pump the thick member deeper inside her womanhood, trying to force its thick, thrusting pleasure permanently into her body? All so she would experience this heavenly sensation forever, constantly being