Sevicing Her Mistress a story of historical lesbian sex

Servicing Her Mistress

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We are back in the Edwardian era. Housemaid Emily has just submitted to a caning from her Mistress. She is not sure why, but she found the experience exciting. Read The Maid’s First Punishment.

Emily is now stood, naked in the centre of the room, her bottom glowing, waiting to find out how she can be of further service to her Mistress.

“Are you a virgin girl?”

“Erm…” Emily looked down at the floor.

“I assume from that reaction that you are not. So, you know what a man’s organ looks like.”

“Erm, no.”

“What do you mean, no. Are you a virgin or not?”

“It was dark, Madam.”

“Oh, good grief. Go to my bureau and open the bottom drawer. Take out the object that looks like a man’s cock. If you can’t tell which that is close your eyes and feel it.”

“Yes, Madam.” Emily walked to the bureau and opened the drawer. Inside was an object that looked like a penis but had several leather straps attached to it. She picked it up, the surface felt smooth and the shaft was slightly flexible as if it was made of rubber.

The phallus was mounted on a triangle of leather and curiously there was a second shaft protruding from the back of the main one that curved upward like a handle.

She returned to her mistress and stood naked holding the object.

“Well, put it on.” Her Mistress sounded impatient.

Emily looked at the object and fingered the handle.

“That goes inside you,” her mistress snapped. “It is designed to give both of us some relief. Here…” She stood up and grabbing the phallus shoved the curved handle between Emily’s legs.

She gasped as she felt it part her wet lips and slide inside her.

Her Mistress pulled the straps tight around her waist and then slid another between her legs.

When she pulled it tight and buckled it to the back of the waist strap it pushed the handle even further into Emily.

Emily looked down. The cock stood out in front of her. She was sure that her Eric’s had not been that size, but then it had been dark.

Her mistress turned her back to her. “Well girl, help me undress.”

Emily unbuttoned her dress and then untied her corset.

The Mistress let her drawers fall to the floor and then sat back down on the sofa with her legs spread. She lifted her chemise to reveal the scarlet slash of her quim, gleaming through a forest of dark hairs.

“That…” her mistress pointed to the phallus “…goes in there,” she pointed between her legs, “And then you do what a man would do, but for longer.” She opened her legs further.

Emily knelt and the head of the shaft pressed against her mistress’s lips and they seemed to part, almost as if they were flowing around the column and sucking it into her.

Her Mistress reached up and her forefinger and thumb of each hand nipped at Emily’s nipples.

“Aah,” she squeaked as the sudden pain tingled through her, her hips jerking forward in an involuntary spasm.

When she looked down their quims were pressed together and the whole shaft seemed to have disappeared inside her Mistress who let out a loud moan and arched her head back against the cushions of the sofa.

Remembering what Eric had done Emily flexed her hips withdrawing the phallus part of its length and then pushed forward again. Her Mistress moaned again, a strange sound that seemed to suggest she was in some pain.

Emily froze.

“For the love of God, don’t stop,”

Her mistress grabbed at her behind, her fingernails biting into the skin as she forced her forward. “Faster girl, faster,” she exclaimed as she began to buck on the rubber phallus.

Emily began pumping her hips. It seemed as if every thrust caused the length of it inside her to press against some part of her body that sent quivers up her spine that rebounded as tingles between her legs.

She leant forward and grabbed at the big round swellings of her mistress’s breasts through the thin material of her chemise. Her fingers clawed at the soft flesh and she could feel her nipples pressing against her palms through the cotton.

The Mistress’s whole body seemed to arch off the sofa, her mouth opened as she threw her head back and uttered a long, animal like groan.

Emily felt her legs shaking. It was as if the phallus was firing shocks through her and the tingles in her quim grew until they exploded through her body like a firework going off. She shuddered, the reflex action of her hips rammed the dildo into her Mistress and herself.

She arched her back and felt the tension in her muscles as the sensation pulsed through her until she thought she would faint. And then it was gone like a bursting bubble it flowed down her body until she could feel it seeping from her and coating the skin of her thighs.

She flopped down onto the floor, the phallus sliding out of the Mistress. Kneeling with her arms across her Mistress’s still spread legs she looked into the gaping maw of her quim. She sucked in air in short gasps and smelt the scent of arousal for the first time.

There was no sound in the room apart from their breathing slowly returning to its normal rhythm.

The Mistress stirred and sat up. “Help me dress Emily.”

Emily looked up, her eyes widened. It was the first time she had used her name and referred to her as anything but girl.

She helped the Mistress strap on her corset and climb back into her dress and then turned toward her own clothes.

“No, wait.” The Mistress reached out and her fingers delicately brushed Emily’s skin. “I think, when we are alone, I should like it very much if you would continue to serve me just as you are.”

Emily opened her mouth and gasped.

“Of course, when my husband returns or we have ordinary guests we will observe the correct propriety, but for now.”

“Yes, Madam.” Emily curtsied and she looked down to hide the flicker of a smile on her face.

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Being a bisexual woman in Edwardian London is not easy. Especially when you enemies… and your friends are masters of BDSM

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