Dr. Denton's Asylum For Little Girls (Complete Series) (3 page)

BOOK: Dr. Denton's Asylum For Little Girls (Complete Series)
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The room looked exactly like a child’s nursery. For a second, she wondered whose child this room belonged to. Then as the nurse led her in and she felt the plushness of the diaper between her legs, she realized with a sinking horror that this was her room.

Pulling her shoulder from the nurse’s, Marissa made one last plea. “Let me see the doctor, please. There has been some mistake,” she whispered, already knowing her cries were falling on deaf ears.

With an easy strength, Nurse Fairfax picked Marissa up again and laid her gently in the oversized crib. “You’ll see the doctor soon enough. For now, you need a nap, you cranky little girl,” she said, almost affectionately. Feeling her world spiral away from her, Marissa let herself be settled onto the soft mattress of the crib. It was in fact a better mattress than the one she had had at home with the Pevins. Laying her on her back, the nurse spread Marissa’s legs wide apart again and strapped her knees done to the sides of the crib. “We can’t have little girls just standing up in the cribs whenever they want, now can we?” The crib, in fact, was only long enough to hold Marissa if her legs were bent so.

With her arms bound and her legs strapped, she was completely helpless. Putting a light knit blanket over her and a stuffed bear next to her, Nurse Fairfax gently brushed Marissa’s hair back. “I’ll be back for you after your nap.”

As the nurse closed the door, Marissa felt her exhaustion finally take her. The day had been incredibly draining on her and the soft mattress beckoned for her to forget her troubles in the darkness of sleep.

 

 

First Session: Introduction

 

Marissa’s eyes fluttered open. For a minute, she looked up at the plain white ceiling, wondering where she was. Her room at home had a dark blue ceiling. As she tried to rub her eyes, she felt the soft linen holding down her arms. And in a rush, it all came back to her. The asylum. The bath. Shifting in her crib, she remembered,
the diaper
. Her eyes instantly welled up. So this was all real. It was terrifyingly real.

As the hot tears fell across her cheeks, the door opened to the room and a cheery voice called out, “Is baby awake?” The infantile greeting only made Marissa cry harder.

This time it was Nurse Woods leaning over the crib, a look of gentle concern creasing her brow. “Oh, now, now. Did baby wake up upset?” she cooed. Marissa cried as she felt herself wanting to scream out that she was educated. She was learned! But all she could do was choke down another sob as she felt her legs being unstrapped. Nurse Woods grabbed her under her arms and picked her up, setting her down on the floor. Marissa almost instantly collapsed as she tried to walk, her legs sore and weak from sleeping in a bound position.

“Oh wait, sweetum, we don’t run off without Nursie’s hand,” Nurse Woods reprimanded cheerily. Grabbing Marissa’s small hand into her plump one, she led Marissa to the rocking chair. By the chair was a cart that had been wheeled in. On top was a tray with a dinner cover over it. Seeing the possibility of food, Marissa’s stomach gurgled. She hadn’t eaten since leaving her uncle’s house early that morning.

Sitting down on the chair, Nurse Woods gathered Marissa onto her lap, easily tucking her into her arms. “I think baby is hungry,” she said smiling wryly, clearly having heard the gurgle.

Marissa shook her head and pulled her sore legs off the lap. “No. No! I do not sit on laps! I am not a child!” she cried in desperation. Futilely she tried to stand. But with her arms bound and her legs still weak, she could not find her balance to get off.

With a gentle but firm pull, Nurse Woods pulled Marissa in further to her lap. “Now, now. Is baby cranky from being hungry? We can fix that right up,” she said. Taking off the tray covering, the nurse revealed a simple bowl and cup. Taking the bowl in one and a spoon in another, the nurse stirred the contents. Looking down Marissa could see it was creamy porridge. She knew this was a child’s meal yet she couldn’t help but feel her stomach growl in need as she smelled warm sweet wafts of porridge.

Lifting up a spoonful, Nurse Woods brought the spoon to Marissa’s mouth. “Open up for the little bird,” she said cheerily.

She would not be fed like a child! Marissa turned her head and looked up at the nurse. “Please, if you would just unstrap--”

A spoonful of creamy porridge popped into her mouth, interrupting her. “There now. Isn’t that yummy?” Nurse Woods smiled and pushed in another spoonful before Marissa could protest.

Too hungry to deny how wonderful the porridge tasted, Marissa swallowed her pride and felt her cheeks burn as she quietly opened her mouth for another spoonful, making Nurse Woods coo in satisfaction.

After finishing the bowl of porridge, Nurse Woods lifted a cup of juice to her lips. Tasting the sweet apple juice, Marissa remembered drinking this as a child. She had not had this drink for many years. Having to rely solely on Nurse Woods to guide the cup to her mouth, Marissa sloppily spilled some juice down her chest.

Taking a napkin, the nurse quickly mopped her down. “Well now, don’t worry. That’s the last cup you’ll have anyway, I suspect,” she said in an ominously cheery tone. Putting away the dish and cup, the nurse stood up and set Marissa down on the small child’s tea chair. Being so petite, she actually fit quite well on the small chair. Nurse Woods ran a comb through her hair and pinned up her hair with a large white bow, letting her curls fall loosely freely down her back like a young girl’s.

Grabbing her by the shoulders, she pulled her up and out the door. “Now, let’s take you to the doctor,” Nurse Woods said, leading Marissa down the corridor. As Marissa walked barefoot down the wooden floor, back past the large bathroom and the entryway, she was led to the opposite corridor where there was only one large set of double doors to the right.

Feeling unreasonably nervous, she yanked at the nurse’s hand. “Please, Nurse, could you not first give me something to cover myself with?”

Nurse Woods creased her brow. “A little girl want to cover herself? What silliness,” she said and opened the doors.

Inside was a large gleaming desk, even bigger than the one in Mr. Tinson’s office, surrounded by impressive looking bookcases. On the opposite side was a roaring fireplace with a plush rug filled with stuffed toys. Two leather wingback chairs faced the fire. Facing the double doors was a large leather couch and sitting on it was a man of middle age with black and gray hair. A well-trimmed beard shadowed his face. Dressed plainly but in very fine fabric, he smiled at the guests. Without standing, he motioned for the pair to enter.

“Dr. Denton, this is our new patient, Marissa Brignall,” Nurse Woods said and with a small push, sent Marissa stumbling forward, her bound arms unable to give her balance.

Dr. Denton’s dark blue eyes glowed with keen interest. He nodded in dismissal to the nurse. Nurse Woods bowed and closed the doors as she left.

“I’m glad to finally meet you, little one,” he greeted, a voice deep in timbre and calm and implacable in its authority.

Marissa stood frozen. She was meeting a
man
while wearing a diaper and with her breasts exposed. She wanted to run and crawl into a dark corner or scream until someone rescued her. But she did neither. Instead she felt her heart bruise her chest as it pounded away in frantic anxiety.

Never breaking eye contact, the doctor remained seated, easily reclining on the large couch. “I am Dr. Denton. I am the sole physician of this asylum that is so generously patronized by the Duke of Wainwright. As you can tell this is a special facility,” he said, eyes intent and serious.

“The Duke, who has a sympathetic nature to the plight of many women, has founded and patronized this facility to help give sanctuary and a place of rehabilitation for women in need. He is a man of particular expectations when it comes to a woman’s place.” Leaning forward, with his forearms on his knees, he brought his focused gaze closer. “The Duke expects a woman to be dependent, submissive, and above all, childlike in nature. Only then can she be considered suitably rehabilitated. Those words may not all be clear to you yet, little one, but they will be.”

Marissa swallowed dryly against her parched throat. Although she did not fully understand the doctor’s meaning, she was terrified by the words nonetheless.

“While at my asylum, you will learn all of those expectations. You are the ward of this institution now and we expect you to comply with our rules and our authority. From now on, you are no longer Marissa Brignall, niece of Lord and Lady Pevin. You are little Sissy, obedient ward of Dr. Denton’s Asylum, do you understand?”

Sissy. Her nanny had called her that when she had been a child. Hearing these outlandish rules and demands spoken so plainly made Marissa squirm in place. “Please, I am a grown woman. My name is Marissa Brig--”

Dr. Denton straightened up and fixed Marissa with a piercing look. “Little one, you will rethink what you are about to say unless you would like a corrective punishment,” he said, his voice low but clear. “Now, to make sure I know you’ve understood your place, tell me your name and who you are.”

Marissa’s mouth gaped in shock. Dr. Denton admired the soft cupid’s bow lips and the tiny little mouth open in shock. He felt himself smile inwardly. He would have fun rehabilitating this little one, indeed.

Dr. Denton raised an eyebrow. Swallowing her absolute shame, she whispered, “I am little Sissy, obedient ward of Dr. Denton’s Asylum.”

The doctor nodded in approval.

“Many of the girls who rehabilitate and are fortunate enough to circulate back into society often have been married to men similar in preferences to the Duke. They prefer acquiring a submissive childbride and want to keep them that way. You may possibly find yourself lucky enough to be one of those girls. If so, your future husbands will expect to be your Papa, your true master and owner of your safekeeping. I would not wish to rob them of such a title so from here on out, I am to be your Uncle and you will address me so. Greet me properly, little Sissy,” he ordered.

Dazed from the sudden outpouring of information, Sissy whispered in a hollow voice, “Good afternoon, Uncle.” She had traded in one uncle for another it seemed. Only this one was tall, intelligent, and obviously commanding. Sissy was almost at eye level with the doctor when he was sitting. She could only imagine how tall and imposing he must be standing.

“Now, come to Uncle so he may inspect his new charge,” Dr. Denton said, reaching out a hand towards her.

Inspect her? Sissy thought back to Nurse Fairfax and her invasive bath. Did Dr. Denton want to inspect her like
that.
There was no possible way that Sissy could let a man see her in such an intimate matter. Wasn’t it humiliating enough that she was already standing in front of him, nearly naked?

“Sissy,” the doctor said in a low voice full of warning.

How had she ended up with another uncle just as bad as her first? She couldn’t understand why no one could see that she was not a little girl. It was just too much for her.

“No!” she cried, stamping her tiny barefoot on the polished dark wood of the office, barely making a soft patting sound. “I am a grown woman! I was even betrothed! I refuse to be treated like a child! I wish to speak immediately with...with someone else!” Sissy stumbled over her words when she realized she had no idea who else she could speak with above the doctor. The Duke of Wainwright was out of the question. After all, he had
founded
this Asylum.

Dr. Denton sat, observing her theatrics with a cool eye. “Looks like our little one woke up quite cranky from her nap,” he said, his voice sharp as ice chips. Sissy immediately shrank back and regretted her outburst. She took a hesitant step back but the doctor’s long arm snatched out like a snake and grabbed her. He pulled her towards him and flung her over his broad lap. Marissa was so high up that her toes couldn’t even touch the ground.

Unpinning her diaper, Dr. Denton pulled away the cloth, exposing her trim bottom to the cool air of the room. Sissy cried out in horror at the thought of a man seeing her so indecently bared. Keeping her firmly tucked in, Dr. Denton pressed his large hand against her cheeks, palming them both in one hand. “It’s best you learn as early as possible that little girls are expected to mind their betters at all time,” he said, his voice rough with disapproval.

“Please! Please don’t spank me!” Sissy begged, humiliated at having to say the word out loud.

But he ignored her and gave her her first taste of true punishment. Although Nurse Fairfax’s hand had stung a great deal, it was nothing in comparison to the doctor’s large and unrelenting hand. His spank resounded throughout her entire body. She could feel the searing pain burn its way up all the way to her scalp. So overwhelming was the pain that Sissy had nothing within her to scream with.

And he was unforgiving in his spanking as well. Sissy had lost count how many spanks she had received but she was sure it was double, if not triple, what she had received from Nurse Fairfax.

Finally, after what felt like several agonizing hours of hell, Dr. Denton stopped and instead rubbed her sore bottom, now glowing as red as the fireplace. He sat and admired his handiwork. What a delicate and slim little bottom! And with it nicely heated and punished, Dr. Denton was sure this new patient would be a popular choice of bride once she was rehabilitated.

The doctor squeezed her cheeks hard making Sissy hiss in pain. “This is why you are here, little Sissy,” the doctor said, not even remotely out of breath from meting out the punishment. “You are here to learn to be an obedient little girl. Your uncle and aunt may have mistreated you and that was why you chose to act out. But here you will be taken care of and will only be pampered and loved. In return, you must learn to show your gratitude through your submission. Do you understand, Sissy?”

Sissy sniffed. Tears dripped down her face. “Yes, Uncle,” she replied, her voice thick with pain and humiliation.

Flipping her up and onto his lap, Dr. Denton grabbed the cloth diaper and used the back of it to wipe Sissy’s face clean. “Now let’s see if we can get on with that inspection with a better behaved little girl,” he said, setting her more comfortably against him on his lap. He smiled as he heard Sissy quickly suck in a breath as she felt her bottom rub against the fabric of his trousers.

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