A Case of Female Hysteria Pt. 03

Dear Mademoiselle Gardinier,

Apologies for my delay in responding to your letters. I have been touring the country with my new colleague, Professor Van Herten, who I met at a medical conference in Brussels. He is a leading specialist in Europe of Paroxysm. We are working closely on some new methodologies that will enable the patient to experience sensations throughout the mind and body with very little consequence to the constitution. This technique is called "Neuro Hypnosteria."

Professor Van Herten and I will be in your vicinity on the 11th of this month and would like the opportunity to meet with you and discuss treatment. I'm aware that it's just a few days notice and you might be engaged. Since there is no time to respond to my letter, we will kindly oblige if we are turned away at your door.

Sincerely,

Dr. Reznik

P.S. I was pleased to hear that my first session has made some improvements. Your kind words of praise are always welcome.

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I am still disappointed that it has taken this long for Doctor Reznik to respond to my letters. Because of his delay, I began to research other practitioners in hopes that my treatment could continue without interruption. Regretfully, I was forced to travel unchaperoned outside of this township. With my visage carefully shielded, I pursued dark undesirable alleyways, and found myself consulting with the most esteemed spiritualists, mediums, and herbalists. Tragically, these healing spells, predictions, divinations and other devilries, provided merely transient balms to my wounds.

The words of praise I had given Dr. Reznik in my letters were a bit overestimated. I failed to admit that my hysteria did worsen after his visit. It was as though he had awoken a celestial being inside of me, one with insatiable high demands. His treatment reinforced that my condition cannot be cured by cessation. Therefore, I did take matters into my own hands when favorable circumstances arose.

When the household retired after dark, I would sneak into the cold cellar and smuggle peculiar shaped produce. This otherworldly being would then molest these victuals as nourishment. It was troublesome to dispose of these items après without arousing suspicion, but let's just say that my stroll in the gardens became more frequent. It should come as no surprise that I was nearly caught by one of the groundsmen when it appeared that I was digging in the dirt. Burying edibles is not a proper pastime, so I professed to losing a piece of jewelry. Thank goodness my skirts were long and could conceal the encumbrances. After that incident, I have resorted to non-perishable household objects such as candlesticks. The stoutness isn't as favorable, but they can be fully utilized afterwards without a trace of indelicacy.

I am troubled to receive Dr. Reznik's letter, or shall I say announcement, with very little time to make the proper preparations for their arrival. Since I can't imagine that they will want to perform this "Neuro Hypnosteria," given such short notice, I will of course accept them into my domicile and have the staff remain. This highly regarded, Professor Van Herten, whom I have no time to make the proper inquiries on, can inform me of his credentials in-person. I hope to learn why this partnership of both Doctor and Professor can benefit me.

3 DAYS LATER

This time I have the benefit of my maid helping me dress before the visit. I'm not too fond of her manner of speak as she is rather half-witted, but she has a good eye for the latest fashions. She does my hair in a silky chignon and applies a light pink stain on my lips. Today I will be wearing a smart travel outfit, as I want to give Dr. Reznik the impression that I am on the road to recovery. To make the outfit more befitting, my maid is suggesting I wear the emerald brooch that was gifted to me by Simon, my favorite cousin. I hesitate slightly when she affixes it to my collar, but once I look in the mirror I can see how the brooch makes the outfit. The entire ensemble gives one the impression that I am pursuing important work.

I am lost in a reverie while gazing out the window when the carriage arrives. Dr. Reznik is the first to disembark and my heart makes a giant leap in my throat. Professor Van Herten follows behind. Van Herten stands erect with an awkward stiffness in his gait, flaunting a top hat and a dandy moustache. Such a contrast in style and self-carriage between the two gentlemen. Feeling a sense of dread wash over me, I begin to wonder if I my outfit looks tawdry and if I should change my dress. Regretfully there is no time.

The maid announces their arrival and I head down to the drawing room to greet them. Dr. Reznik is standing expectantly by the doorway, and Professor Van Herten has his back turned examining the paintings on the wall. Dr. Reznik seems pleased to see me and introduces me to his colleague, Van Herten. I am less than impressed with this Van Herten character. Behind his thick spectacles, he exerts a coldness and restraint in a way that arouses concern. I continue being polite and ask them about their journey.

"Mademoiselle, I am very pleased we have caught you. I was worried that my letter came too late for you to receive us," says Dr. Reznik. "It seems as we may have caught you at a bad time? You have either just arrived home, or are getting ready to depart," he inquires.

Responding to the Doctor, I cannot fail to notice the professor's glaring and forlorn expression towards me. "Dr. Reznik, you will be pleased to know that I have been out paying visits all morning," I lie.

"I am very glad to hear that. I imagine that your condition may have improved after our session," he says. "If you have interest, we would like to consult with you about some new methods of treatment," says the doctor.

"I do take an interest in innovative methodologies Doctor, but first, I would like to inquire about Professor Van Hertens' credentials," I say.

The professor is ready as I knew he would be.

"Mademoiselle Gardinier, first let me say that I am very impressed with your self-possession considering what I have learned about you from Dr. Rezniks meticulous notes," he says in a rather thick peculiar Dutch accent. "All of my credentials have been obtained from various universities throughout Europe. As you know, treating this condition, is believed by some to be sorcery, therefore I have become a traveling scholar in this field, as this practice is not entirely recognized by medical society," he states.

Dr. Reznik interrupts, "I can vouch for Professor Van Herten, as I have seen his techniques in the field. Patients improving drastically or fully recovering. Our skills fully complement one-another which is why we have begun a medical study that we hope to have published in a medical journal specifically focusing on female weaknesses."

"Well gentlemen, you have me intrigued, however, my anonymity is very important in regards to my reputation. My name mentioned in any journal, no matter how esteemed, would be a big upset with this family," I say quietly.

"Mademoiselle, we can respect your wishes and use an assumed name, if you decide to trust us," says the doctor.

I look at Professor Van Hurten who continues to study me while twirling his moustache. He clears his throat and says, "allowing us to perform a very simple test would confirm whether or not you'd be suited for our program."

This entire conversation has me convinced of three points. One, the professor has provided an interval of relief from any wandering lustful memories of Dr. Reznik. Two, I am intent on being a subject for their research as long as Dr. Reznik is involved. Three, I believe it is wise that I behave chaste and continue to play-act reluctance towards treatment.

"Very well, professor. Enlighten me on this simple test," I say.

The professor gets up and makes circles around the room. While he has my attention, he opens his medical bag and pulls out a queer looking metal device and begins talking. "You may sit comfortably where you are Mademoiselle. I will begin when you nod your head in my direction," says Van Herten.

"Mademoiselle, you are going to look at this object in my hand. Do not take your eyes off it. Continue to look at it. Do not think of anything else but this object," says Professor Van Herten.

And so it continues. Compelling me to look at the device, I did entirely as was asked and passed the test without difficulty. I don't fully recall how long I was out, but I do recollect waking up and feeling a little out-of-sorts. Water was brought to me immediately, and I appeared to have perspired.

Doctor Reznik was the first to come to my aid. "Mademoiselle, it appears that you are the ideal candidate for Neuro Hypnosteria. Would you honor us with the opportunity of treating and studying your condition in the near future?"

Strangely, I began to feel palpitations hammering in my chest. The timing of me going into hysteria at this moment would be very uncouth. On impulse I made a very abrupt demand. "Before I agree to this, I would like to propose a session with Dr. Reznik. I would like to rid myself of any anxiety before treatment."

The two gentleman cast concerning glances towards one another.

"Today!" I demand.

Dr. Reznik says, "Mademoiselle, I believe you should rest before we begin. How about..."

The professor interrupts, "It would be an honor to observe Dr. Rezniks more traditional approach to treatment. If you will allow, I would like to observe."

Dr. Reznik hesitated but then complied with the professor. I then ordered the maid to bring us tea to my chambers.

Once in my rooms, Dr. Reznik took immediate charge. He checked my eyes, reflexes, and heartbeat. I was more ruffled this time due to the professor watching, so I focused all of my attention on the Doctor and practiced being a good patient. Dr. Reznik asked me to undress which was a little cumbersome as I had many layers of clothing, and I was missing the maids assistance. The doctor was very patient as I undressed, however, I stopped once I got to my undergarments.

"Mademoiselle, I need to perform an inspection. Will you allow me?" He asked.

He never asked so politely at our last engagement. Timidly, I worried about my body being fully exposed, so I reluctantly removed my brassiere.

"Mademoiselle, if I am to treat your condition, you must allow me to inspect you. Fully," he insisted.

I did not comply and stood frozen in humiliation. Why was I behaving like a spoiled child? It wasn't long before Professor Van Herten intervened. He came into my view and held the object he had shown me earlier and said calmly, "You will fully remove your underclothes as the doctor has asked you, and you will behave like a respectable patient and listen to my orders when you hear my voice."

As though I was not in command of my movements, I followed Van Hertens' orders and removed my pantaloons without delay. I was now completely exposed in my full fertile form.

"That's a good patient. You will now lay yourself down on the bed and allow Dr. Reznik to begin his exam," said the Professor.

Without shame, Dr. Reznik took my limbs and artfully placed them in such a manner as to expose my womanly parts. All the while, the Professor remained unseen, while his voice continued giving orders to me methodically. As I fail to recollect the particulars on the orders given, I do remember all of the gratifying offenses committed by Dr. Reznik.

After the Doctor carefully massaged and tickled my nether region, he inserted his lubricated fingers inside my parts and began teasing me. He spent much longer than he did compared to his first visit. I imagine it had to do with the professors scrutinizing gaze. Eventually, I managed to forget the professor, and his voice began to sound and feel like my very own.

With his fingers still inside of me, the Doctor began to unbutton his trousers. This time I had the fortune of laying eyes on his man-parts, discovering that not only is Dr. Reznik in possession of a stunning work of art, but that the Doctor is indeed a Semite. Stroking his tool of magnificence with the dexterity that one acquires with experience, he continued to tease me with his hands, allowing me the benefit of observing his attempts at taming his godly organ. My arousal was unmistakable, and mysteriously my hysteria remained at bay.

It should come as no surprise that the professor managed to coax with more than just his voice. When I was flipped over and told to get on all fours like a bitch in heat, I had the glory of being face-to-face with Dr. Reznik's object of desire. I don't remember being told, but I willingly enshrined Dr. Reznik's mighty hammer by licking and suckling. While engaged in this manner, I began to feel a rhythmic penetration from behind. With my lips around the Doctor's throbbing member, my lower lips were being penetrated by the professor. I recall my moans being stifled by the man-parts in my face, while my temple was being filled with warmth and succor. Undeniably, my celestial being was being ordained.

The most unfavorable part of my session was when my hysteria finally erupted from the shadows. It appears that I may have been getting unmanageable, and very loud. With stealth and finesse, the doctor flipped me onto my back. Still in full view of Dr. Rezniks' member, the professor had me restrained by holding my arms above my head. The professor kept hold while mesmerizing me with words and suggestions, as I watched the doctor stroking his fine instrument.

The Doctor's movements eventually became more rigorous. When his body would tense, my blooming flower would pulse and contract with indignation. Being bound by the professors arms made me even more unruly, allowing me futile attempts at escape. Ultimately, a volcanic eruption ensued when the doctors glistening cock exploded and oozed with hot liquid that he then purposefully projected towards my hungry slit. The timing was artful, and as I was beside myself with passion for the doctor, I climaxed at the exact moment of his ejaculation.

I don't recall more, but I do know that my transcendent being has been awoken further and possibly into the more darker depths of my imagination. Therefore, it has been decreed that I am to be the first test subject in the development and study of Neuro Hypnosteria.

After the gentlemen's departure, I summon the maid. She comes to my aid suspiciously quick which is unlike her habitual pace. Very few words are exchanged between us, which is wearisome being that she is very verbose by nature. Failing to notice the mess and dampness of the bed, she removes the soiled linens, discarded items, and my outfit that I had callously strewn across the floor. I sip my tea in defiance and watch her intensely, waiting for her to make a disparaging remark about my required form of medical treatment. It's a wonder that I care about the thoughts of a maid, but my mood becomes curtailed when she asks me about my brooch.

My brooch has gone missing.