Roald Dahl, with respect ...

To say that the weather in Paris in October 1787 was disgusting - meant flattering her as rudely as telling an old whore who had gotten to Bicetre that she had a young maiden appearance.

At least Dr. Joseph, as the patients called him, was sure of that.

The carriage that was sent to him that evening was constantly stuck in the muddy mud, the driver had to mercilessly overlap the horses to keep moving forward, and the rainstorm rumbled on the roof with rage, threatened to rush inside, like a gang of ruthless robbers.

And the doctor also thought that if it had not been for the big brown eyes of the young maid who had come after him, and now, with every tug of the carriage that fell on his knees with an oykanem, he would have gotten out of his house in such a nasty, rainy and late evening.

Finally the carriage stopped. Dr. Joseph, with some effort, pulled his massive body down the wet steps.

The maid already ran up the stairs shouting ... - Madame Baroness! ... Doctor, doctor came! ..

The doors were slammed, candles flickered and towards Dr. Joseph, in a flowing peignoir with a neckline that could accommodate all the Palais Royal, the young lady hurried, but already beginning to gain weight.

“Doctor! ... What a blessing! ... Rather! ... Such a downpour! ... My daughter! ... Poor Antoinette! She suffers so much! ... Only you! ... Ball in three days! ... His Majesty ...

The doctor looked around with irritation. Finally, one of the footmen took his hat from him and helped to remove his raincoat.

- Where is the patient? - irritation of the doctor became more and more rampant.

He was beginning to regret that he succumbed to the enchantment of the eyes of the maid and went here.

Surely the girl jumped a pimple on the forehead before the ball, and this made her hysterical, the doctor thought ...

- Yes, yes ... follow me ... Marie, run upstairs, tell Antoinette - the doctor has arrived! ..

Drinking and snorting slightly, Dr. Joseph climbed the stairs and entered the dimly lit room with candles.

On the bed, under a canopy, up to his eyes, with a quilt down, lay the girl. Her long dark brown hair, lightly covered with a nightcap, was scattered on the pillow in disarray ...

The doctor sat down in the armchair, which had crept plaintively under his weight.

- Well, tell me ... - he turned to the Baroness.

- You know, the doctor - at first - everything was fine ... - His Majesty arranges balls every day to distract her spouse from sad thoughts ... My Antoinette ... she is fifteen ... she is snapped up - all week ... - So having fun ... Dancing ... - She dances like a fairy ... His Majesty ... After all, she is Her Majesty’s namesake ... And suddenly, yesterday after the ball, she felt bad, she lies, does not eat anything, and you know the doctor, it is embarrassing for me to say this - it costs her a little to drink some water, as she right there ...

- Is she vomiting? - asked Dr. Joseph.

- No ... water ... pours out from below ... - And she is very sick, doctor ...

A weak, mournful moan coming from the pillow testified to the same.

Sighing, the doctor freed himself from the captivity of the soft chair and went to the bed.

“Take it off,” he said, “pointing to a feather bed.”

Brisk Marie, jumped to the bed, pulled off the bedspread with the patient.

Under the large number of laces, the outlines of the maiden body were guessed ...

Thin hands, shuddering, were at the neck of the shirt's collar.

The doctor sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, and looked at the patient.

The girl had regular, pleasant, devoid of porcelain puppet features. The large dark cherry eyes on the pale face were clouded with mist of suffering.

On a thin neck matt flickered sweat.

Dissolving the bundle of lacing, the doctor pushed aside the disturbing girlish hands and opened his shirt, found two small tender-touching breasts.

Tilting his head, he put his ear and through the desperate beat of the heart he heard even and clean breathing.

“No, everything is here, thank God, it's all right,” Dr. Joseph sighed with some relief. - We'll see below ...

The doctor ran his hand over his shirt, where a belly was supposed to be under lace. The belly was hard as a rock and hilly, like a bag full of turnips.

“However,” Dr. Joseph thought, “it seems that it has not been emptied for five days, not less, and the stool is under pressure on the bladder ...”

- Well, that's the solution, - grinning, the doctor looked at the girl.

“Everything will be fine, Mademoiselle,” he said, “you will still be dancing at the balls ...”

And turning to the baroness, he ordered ... - Order to bring more candles and heat more water.

The baroness rustled her dressing gown over the door.

- And you, - the doctor pointed his finger at Marie, - Give me my bag and undress the sick.

A protesting squeak came from the pillow ...

Marie froze in indecision.

Then Dr. Joseph issued his famous angry growl, which would be envied by bears in faraway Russia.

This growl clearly said that if, immediately, immediately, everyone in this house did not begin to fulfill the doctor’s orders, then ... What would follow this “that ...” would not like to represent anyone in the room ...

Translating her doctor's bag closer to the bed, Marie pulled her shirt over her sick head. The doctor's eyes gradually appeared thin, but well-shaped legs, a triangle between narrow hips, covered with dark curls, a belly with a neat navel point, already familiar to Dr. Joseph breasts and finally a reddened face of embarrassment from the young patient who tried to close her hands his charms, reminding the doctor of the old picture, which he saw during a trip to Italy. In this picture, which delighted him, the waves carried a shell to the shore with a newborn Venus, chastely covering her chest and womb with her hands.

They brought candles and it became lighter in the room.

“Come on, turn on your side, Mademoiselle,” Dr. Joseph ordered the startling girl, dropping olive oil from a flask on his finger.

Antoinette complied, and now the doctor could see a smooth back, covered with a soft fuzz, small rounded buttocks and a thin neck with clinging strands of dark hair.

“Marie,” the doctor found with a glance a brown-eyed maid, “hold her legs ...”

When Marie, holding her ankles, pressed Antoinette's legs tightly to the bed, Dr. Joseph with her left hand opened the patient's buttocks and stuck her index finger into a tiny hole.

The girl screamed, and tried to kick the doctor, but, to his happiness, Marie held tight.

- Do not twitch! - Doctor Joseph snapped, snorting angrily, - he almost broke his nail, jabbing him into the dense, petrified mass that filled the rectum.

Antoinette sobbed softly ...

At that moment, another maid appeared in the room, bringing a large jug of warm water.

Opening her mouth, she stared at the naked mistress and the doctor sitting on the bed, with a ferocious look on her finger.

The doctor noted with satisfaction that the nail was not injured, only a dark strip appeared under it.

“Bring me a bowl,” he ordered the maid, and got into his bag.

The maid seemed to be blown away by the wind, and the doctor finally pulled a suitable curette spoon out of the bag.

“That's what, Mademoiselle,” he said, turning to the lying girl, “you will kick, I will command you to tie ... Therefore, lie still.” It will not hurt ... and shyness you better save for the future groom ... Agreed? ..

Antoinette, who was facing the wall, gently shook her head. If desired, this could be regarded as consent.

Entered maid stretched out ...