Ladies Medical Agency Ch. 02

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Thanks for the encouraging feedback I received for chapter 1. One asked if the treatment for hysteria was genuine, yes it was. It really happened, quite routinely, and quite clinically. Hence the air of clinical detachment from the nurse in chapter 1.

The journey home was all but silent. Florence had a dreamy, slightly detached look of contentment on her face. Elizabeth was too well mannered to fidget, but she occasionally shifted uncomfortably when the hansom cab jolted on the cobbles. Twenty minutes later, or half an eternity in Elizabeth’s opinion, they arrived at Florence’s house.

“Will you come in for lunch, Betty?” asked Florence.

“Certainly,” Elizabeth replied.

The two ladies entered the tiled hallway.

“I’m sure Cook will be able to accommodate you, I’ll just go into the kitchen a moment.” With that Florence headed into the back of the house, leaving Elizabeth hanging her coat up. Elizabeth could hear babyish laughter from upstairs, where the nursery occupied the middle bedroom.

Florence reappeared a moment later.

“Lunch is almost ready, Betty, do you want to come through?” Florence said, opening the dining room door.

The table had already been set with a simple lunch, cold meats and a large pork pie alongside bread and cheese. As Elizabeth sat down the cook arrived with a tureen of hot soup.

“I’ll just set this down ‘ere, mam,” said the cook. “I’ll be back in a mo’ with another bowl and cutlery.” She disappeared again, as Florence settled herself across from Elizabeth.

The cook reappeared as quickly as she had gone, and laid Elizabeth’s place, then started serving the soup.

“So, where’ve you been this morning, mam?” asked the cook. “Anythin’ excitin’?”

“Just a medical appointment, over in Ancoats,” said Florence.

The cook looked at her as she finished Elizabeth’s bowl and walked around the table.

“Not one of those ‘isteria places were it? I reckon they’re a fad. Didn’t need ’em in poker oyna my day,” said the cook, with a slightly disapproving air.

The look on Florence and Elizabeth’s faces revealed that the cook had hit the nail on the head.

“Listen mam, you don’t need to go paying all that money out for some quack to make you feel good. Give me an extra couple o’ pennies a week and I’ll sort you out.”

Florence gaped at her.

“It wouldn’t be nowt I ain’t done before. Why do you think the nanny and maid have stayed so long? I keep ’em ‘appy, that’s why. Don’t like moody girls under my feet, so when they start acting up cos their fellers ain’t making ’em ‘appy I do it for ’em instead. And I didn’t need no medical training neither. Just what I got learnt when I were startin’ out.”

The cook started cutting the bread to put on their side plates. She looked at Florence. “Mind you,” she said, “it does look to have done you the world o’ good. Right worried you’ve been lookin’ lately. Must ‘ave been a good session you ‘ad.”

She looked across at Elizabeth. “Do you want some relief mam? You look like Mrs Fothergill was looking yesterday.”

Elizabeth had turned crimson, but then the colour drained from her face and she toppled forwards into her soup. The cook and Florence dashed around to her seat, pulling Elizabeth’s head up and splashing her face with water from the jug sat on the table.

“We need to loosen her corset,” said Florence.

“Let’s lay her down on the carpet first, mam,” said the cook.

They carried Elizabeth over to a large rug in front of a comfy looking wingback chair near the fireplace and laid her down gently. They set to work loosening her clothes and making her more comfortable.

“Shall I get the smelling salts?” asked the cook.

“No, it’s alright, just give her a minute.” said Florence. “I think you’re right though. She was looking rather tense even before she fainted. Maybe she does need some treatment, much as I did.”

“Her dress canlı poker oyna ‘as got soup an’ water down the front, mam,” said the cook. “Shall I take it to see what maid can do while Mrs Smith’s still ‘ere?”

“Yes, that might be a good idea, if it’s too difficult she can borrow one of my dresses,” said Florence.

They set to work removing Elizabeth’s dress, leaving her in her corset and petticoats. Elizabeth started to stir as they finished their work.

“What happened?” asked Elizabeth, weakly, as the cook left the room.

“You fainted, Betty. How do you feel?” said Florence.

“Weak,” she looked down at herself. “Where’s my dress?”

“Cook’s got it,” said Florence. “You tipped forward into your soup. We had to see if the maid can clean it for you. We loosened your corset too.

“No, stay there,” she added, as Elizabeth started to push herself up. “You need a few minutes after fainting like that. I should know.”

The cook returned to the room. “Maid’s sure she can get it out and dry again in an hour or two, mam. Are you alright? That looked like a right nasty turn.

“I was just sayin’ before you fainted that you could do with a bit of relief. I reckon I were right. Want me to sort you out now?”

“Maybe in a minute, I’ve not quite got over my faint,” said Elizabeth.

“Aye, well, let me go an’ get me stuff then,” said the cook, disappearing around the door again. She returned in less than a minute with a small canvas bag.

“Now then,” said the cook, “what we ‘ave ‘ere is a genuine ivory dildo.”

She pulled what looked almost like a small, straightish elephant tusk from the bag. It was smooth, polished even, for most of its length, but with some grooves and ridges running around it. It had a finely carved wooden handle below the ivory, giving it a slightly dagger like appearance.

“My feller brought this back for me from India, he did,” said the cook. Said you wouldn’t believe some of what they’ve got carved on temples. internet casino Taught me a few tricks he learnt just from looking at ’em.

“Now then, are you feeling a little better?” she asked Elizabeth.

“Yes, yes I think so,” said Elizabeth. “What are you going to do?”

“Well now,” said the cook. “Yer fancy doctors reckon that us women get hysterical and need to have a paroxysm to relieve the vapours, or summat. I reckon you just need a bit o’ satisfaction.”

The cook knelt down on Elizabeth’s right hand side, with Florence still kneeling on the other side holding Elizabeth’s hand. Without any fuss or bother the cook lifted Elizabeth’s petticoats past her waist to expose her totally. With a lack of ceremony the cook placed her left hand on Elizabeth’s bush and started exploring with her fingers. Soon her years of practice started paying off, as Elizabeth started squirming and gasping. Then the cook brought the dildo up between Elizabeth’s legs and smoothly inserted the tip.

“Yer a married woman, ain’t yer?” the cook asked Elizabeth.

“Yes, oh! Yes I am, oh!” said Elizabeth.

“Right then, I’ll give you the full works,” said the cook. The dildo slid smoothly inside Elizabeth’s fanny, and then out, and then back in. The natural smoothness of the ivory meant it barely needed any lubrication, but that was not a problem for Elizabeth. After the last few hours that she had been through moisture was pouring forth from her. The cook’s left hand was circling around her nub, and the feeling of the dildo plunging in and out was driving her wild.

“Ahhh! Ahhh! AHHHHHH!” screamed Elizabeth, as she bucked up from the floor, gripping Florence’s hand so tightly she nearly crushed it. The cook slowed her movements, but as Elizabeth came down from her peak she started going faster again. Another, smaller orgasm followed, and then another, the cook varying her tempo to keep Elizabeth in a state of near continuous orgasm for a solid minute. At last she stopped and slid the dildo out.

“I reckon you’ll be fine now mam,” said the cook, with a sly smile. “But next time yer all wound up, come for lunch again.” With that the cook placed the dildo back into the canvas bag, stood up, and left the room.

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