The voters have spoken and in this next part of Lady Ashley’s tale, she gets to partake in dinner—she’s certainly earned it, after a very full first day at this special hospital. Thanks for voting. Several people wrote in saying they’d like to meet Mildred, a countess whose husband, the Earl of Argosy, is rather intent on some body modifications for his wife. She may make an appearance at some point.
Remember to vote in the new poll at the end of Part 5 to have a say in what takes place next. Thanks for reading!
Lady Ashley
Read all previous parts here.
Lady Ashley, Part 5
Ashley’s head lolled on her shoulder. She felt like a rack of meat hanging on display at the butcher’s shop. Suspended and stretched, while Nurse Lane aimed water from a hose into the heart of her, drilling into her poor, sensitized clitoris. Her toes cramped from curling, and she felt wracked with a hot, shivery feeling that was positively terrifying and pleasurable at the same time.
The nurse played the water relentlessly at Ashley’s vulnerably spread sex, modulating the force of the spray by adjusting the nozzle. In this way, she made Ashley’s keening rise and fall, like an opera singer performing the scales. Her panting echoed off the tiles all around them, a breathless chant of oh, oh, ohhhhs that ratcheted up in pitch, only to subside when the nurse eased off the jet of water. Ashley’s flesh was risen with goosebumps and she was shaking quite terribly.
“Yes, you like that, don’t you,” the nurse said mockingly. “You’re a dear thing, Ashley Milton. There’s more of this if you’re a model patient.”
She took the hose away and Ashley slumped in her restraints. She could still feel her core, hot and pulsing. The nurse dried her charge with brisk pats of a rough towel, and handed her a white garment.
“This is your day gown,” the nurse said. “After dinner, I’ll help you change into your sleep gown.”
The dress was a simple white shift, so sheer that Ashley’s pebbled nipples were outlined against the fabric, and it only fell to mid-thigh. There was a bit of elastic beneath the bodice, cinching the dress in under her breasts. When she walked, the hem floated up to reveal her naked buttocks.
“Oh…is there…anything else to wear?” Ashley blurted.
The nurse frowned. “Lord Milton hasn’t specified your attire just yet, so you’ll be wearing our hospital uniform until that time. All our patients wear this uniform, unless otherwise prescribed.”
“Please, Nurse Lane,” Ashley said humbly, hoping the matron would relent. “Surely you see…it’s indecent.”
“Pish posh, my dear. You musn’t concern yourself with modesty now. That’s for your doctors and your guardian to determine for you. There is a very practical reason for this uniform. We must be able to study and have immediate access should you require correction or care.”
Nurse Lane carefully combed Ashley’s hair and plaited it, securing the braid with a wide red ribbon.
“Now, come along. You must be hungry by now.”
Ashley was indeed hungry. Once again, the nurse seized her arm in an iron grip and escorted her down new corridors, before pushing through a swing door to a supper hall.
The cafeteria was quite busy. Nurses bustled through the room. A group of white coated doctors sat at a table, working industriously over their food as they talked quite seriously, their knives flashing as they cut what looked and smelled like a delicious steak. There was a dark-haired girl crouching under their table, wearing the same “uniform” Ashley did. The girl’s arms were drawn behind her back in a black sleeve, and Ashley couldn’t see her face at all; the girl kept her face bowed over the lap of a burly doctor’s lap. He had one hand on the back of her head, and the other dipping a spoon into a bowl of soup.
Here and there, other female patients were huddled on all fours, their faces lowered over bowls placed on the ground. Then there were a few girls strapped into wooden chairs with tray tables lowered in front of them. They were wearing pink bibs and mittens with frilly lace around the wrists, and they were being spoon fed by attendants. In one case, a girl was being nursed from a bottle.
Ashley was scared to look for her friend Beverly, but to mingled relief and dismay, she didn’t see her friend anywhere.
Nurse Lane took Ashley to a table and had her sit on the bench. When she did, her dress rose up so her bare bottom rested on the seat.
“Wait right here, Ashley, while fetch your supper. You’ll want to be a good girl, if you know what’s good for you. Else I’ll give you a sound spanking for everyone to hear, and then you’ll have to apologize to the room for disrupting their dinners. You might use this time to sit quietly and clear your head of any naughty thoughts of being willful or making decisions for yourself.”
Giving a firm nod, Nurse Lane hurried away, leaving Ashley alone at her table.
At the next table, right across from her, was a girl restrained in a garment she was later to learn as a straitjacket. The girl’s arms were crossed over her chest, and the long sleeves tied behind her. She wore a close-fitting hood that concealed her entire face. The zippered slit over her mouth was released, and while the male attendant was slowly feeding each bite into the girl’s open mouth, he was also squeezing the girl’s breasts through the garment.
Ashley’s mouth dropped as she watched this public molestation take place.
The girl swallowed a bite of food, wet her lips with her tongue, and whispered, “Please, sir…”
“You bad girl,” the man said. “Speaking without permission. You’ve not learned yet, I see.”
He set aside the spoon and took up some sort of gag which he pushed into the girl’s protesting mouth, silencing her pleas of no no no no I’m sorry please I’m sorry, cutting her right off, and then he proceeded to zip up the opening over her mouth until she was mute. He pulled the girl to her feet and unzipped a slit over her chest. Ashley’s mouth went dry as she watched him roughly grope and practically maul the poor girl’s bosom. From the pocket of his uniform, he withdrew metal clamps that were clipped to the girl’s tender teats. Then he pushed her forward over the table, right next to her dinner plate, and began to spank her.
“No speaking. No speaking. No speaking,” he repeated patiently. “Your mouth is not for speaking.”
Ashley’s attention was pulled away from this lurid, awful scene by the sound of a man’s voice addressing her.
“You must be Doctor Kent’s new patient…Lady Ashley, isn’t it?”
A handsome man with rust-colored hair was smiling gently at her. He wore a white coat, a stethoscope hanging around his neck, and he looked vaguely familiar.
“My name is Doctor Ross,” he said by way of introduction. “It’s very nice to meet you, Lady Ashley. Although you may not remember…we have met before.”
“Oh? I’m afraid I don’t quite…”
“You were being escorted by your guardian, Lord Milton. At Lord and Lady Stafford’s summer soirée? It was quite the to-do, an absolute crush. I certainly don’t blame you for not recalling me.” He gave her a faint smile. “I must say, Lady Ashley…you are even lovelier than I remember.”
And he gave her a slow perusal. Not a leer, but a long, leisurely look that lingered at her puckered nipples, blatantly revealed through the horribly indelicate uniform.
“Doctor Ross, how do you do,” Nurse Lane said, coming up beside him, holding a plate. “I see you’ve met our newest patient.”
“That I have. I’ll trust her to your capable hands then, Nurse.” With a slight bow, he took his leave and departed.
“Here you go,” Nurse Lane said briskly to Ashley, setting down the plate. “Plain gruel is good for you. No spices or seasonings, nothing to inflame you further. Perfectly nutritious.”
Ashley was disheartened by what she saw: it appeared to be bland pap, mashed potatoes and carrots without any sauce or spice, and small cubes of white chicken breast. She could still smell the savory dinner the doctors were having nearby.
At least she could eat on her own steam. Slowly, she picked up the spoon and began to eat. As she took her first bite, she felt surrounded by strange, terrible sounds: a plaintive female cry of distress, the disconcerting sound of whimpering devolving into weeping, a human vocalization of a dog’s bark, the resounding smacking of flesh, the steady repetition of “Your mouth is not for speaking…”
Twitter Poll: Time to vote on what happens next in Part 6 of Lady Ashley’s tale! What do you want to read next in her story?
Lady Ashley’s new bedtime
Quiet time
Medicine
Making a new friend
Vote on Twitter or vote in this post’s comments below. And remember, Filthy Morsels is now available for preorder. It is currently ranked #9 on Amazon’s Best Sellers in Short Story Anthologies & Collections list!
Great story looking forward to the next part.
"Lady Ashley's New Bedtime"