Chapter 1

My name is simply Wendy. My last name is unimportant and I must give my new spouse some modicum of privacy that my disclosures might expose.

In my fanciful youth, I was much given to flights of imagination about pirate ships and "Lost Boys" and pretty little fairies that flew around my head when I was naughty. The internationally acclaimed Doctor Krankenhous from Oxford had informed my parents that I needed the discipline that his institute was able to apply with guaranteed success. Those years in the Krankenhous Institute were still firmly entrenched in my memory even to today. I will tell you a little bit about his methods even though they are of painful retrospection and force me to secretly imbibe spirits before tea time.

I sit at this writing desk in the study of my esteemed husband wrapped in the finery of an upper-class lady with my devious juicy slit fair weeping with the thoughts of the discipline that the sly Doctor Krankenhous personally dished out to all of his female patients in the middle of the night. Of course, the rumors were rampant in those upper class societal circles where the truth was suspected with regard to his methods but neither the authorities nor the hoodwinked families had proof of his insidious process in curing imaginative minds. My own family was totally clueless of the tortures I had endured under his control and I was loath to impart the truth for fear of causing them discomfort.

My true name is actually Winnifred but I desperately distain that name as well as the diminutive of "Winnie" which strangely reminds me of a bear. No, it is "Wendy" for me and thus I shall remain even when it is on the lips of the dreaded Doctor Krankenhous. I remember being stretched out on the cold table in his basement after midnight on a night of his treatment and being subjected to the introduction of his merciless instruments into my private place to instill obedience into my demeanor.

I squealed and I squirmed but to no avail because he was relentless in his pursuit of medical science. Eventually, my weakened thought process saw the wisdom of bending to his detestable will and I started down the path of proper thinking. The only thing that I found completely disconcerting was his employment of simple "water" to induce cooperation in his patients. I had always had a particular attachment to water. I loved to bathe and to swim in the stuff and I found it to be the most nourishing of liquids to pour down my gullet. Doctor Krankenhous had discovered in its very simplicity a devious use for structuring correct-thinking graduates of his successful system. I knew that the "water" cure was to follow whenever the nasty lower class nurses stripped me of all my clothes including my knickers and strapped me firmly to the tabletop. No amount of squealing or squirming could save me from the process and I was so fearful of the sense of drowning that I lost all dignity with my pathetic pleading and sobbing for mercy when I knew mercy was not in the nature of Doctor Krankenhous's methods.

The sounds of the big-bosomed nurses laughing at my feeble thrashing on the tabletop filled me with justified anger at my treatment but there was absolutely nothing I could do to forestall the Krankenhous methods. I fear that in many instances, I could not control my bodily functions and it was necessary to hose me down with the sprinklers to present a clean surface to work on. Several times I wondered why the dirty-minded doctor did not use his own flesh to stretch my female orifice or even my posterior entryway but used the male nurses to instill the spirit of obedience into my resistant nature. It came to the point that I could identify the nurses by the length and the girth of their cocks rather than the ugly features of their common faces.

It was after a particularly harsh session of multiple anal stretching that I came to see "the light" of Doctor Krankenhous's methods and became sufficiently docile to qualify for graduation and the label of "cured". The nurses were all beaming with the delight of my success and gave me extra treats in the form of little sweets and even single flowers to show their pleasure in "saving" another soul from the despair of an over-active imagination.

When I greeted my parents, I kept all of my dirty thoughts buried inside me and charmed them with my devotion and eagerness to please. My old beau, Captain Hedgespeth gave me a spray of flowers that perfectly matched my graduation gown. It was not difficult to convince him to come with me to the upstairs library to discuss our future away from my parents.

As soon as the library door closed, I told Captain Hedgespeth to quickly unfurl his needy cock as I had long missed its deserved entrance into my deprived slit.

"Quickly, Hector, I need it so badly."

He dropped his trousers at maximum speed and I presented my flanks for his perusal. Seconds later, he was fully buried deep in my vaginal channel and we were both breathing a lot faster and our grunts of pleasure filled the small library with obscene echoes. In my secret thoughts, I was already planning the order of sampling of my former beaus in order to select the proper mate to bring me the pleasure I most certainly deserved.

I seldom socialize with my siblings any longer because they have families and responsibilities of their own now. None of them remember the days of our youth and young fancies. My poor parents are aged now and more interested in the garden and the newspaper than in listening to my thoughts and issues. So, I have immersed my activities in presenting my person for my husband's pleasures and maintaining a social calendar of dutiful upper-class activities.

I had hesitated to suggest to my devoted spouse that we might engage in some anal bedtime sports because I knew from our spirited coupling that he was particularly shy about any touching in that sensitive region and was fastidious about cleanliness to the point of even being distainful of the passing of natural gas from that delicate region. Rather than offend his sensitivities, I decided to find a few young lads of common background to pound my bum appropriately when the need arose in my kinky nature.

As part of my society conscious activities, I had started a small soup kitchen for the poor unfortunates who seemed to have multiplied of late due to economic reversals in our trade practices with other nations. I deigned to select two muscular males with pleasing facial characteristics to labor in my gardens as a form of benign upper-class bestowing of employment to the lower classes. I made certain neither of them were married as I hated the thought of my chosen "buggering" mates to have steady relations with a person they might have affections contracted for. Besides, it would make them more compliant and desperate for entrance into an available entryway belonging to an upper-class female of superior intellect and status.