Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, and as such, any similarities to real people, places or events are strictly coincidental. This work contains graphic depictions of a sexual nature between consenting adults. The story also refers to aspects of sexuality that may be offensive to certain people, such as BDSM, consensual humiliation and lesbian themes. If these topics offend you, then stop reading now, moving on to stories that you might better enjoy.
Kissing Cousins
is a multi-part work of fiction. Taking place in the late nineteenth century, it contains references to period customs and mannerisms and is written in a style closely resembling the age. Enjoy! Saphhia
*****
My demise was at hand, and penned by my own. Diana was not wasting any time, stripping me of my clothing. What ever had possessed me to write the things I had on that insipid page? I think Diana knew exactly what she had done when she relinquished this task to me. So, as I stood naked in her presence I nervously awaited her next command. Had I simply harvested my ideas from past experience, it would have been shocking enough. Instead, I had allowed my imagination run rampant. And I thought my life was difficult under my cousin, Sarah.
"My dear Lizzie, I am of the mind that you allowed your arousal to drive the pen when you wrote out this list." She waved the page that I had struggled over in her hand, shaking her head. "As I had warned, I fully intend to see that you live up to each and every one of these strikingly humiliating lines. God help you, you silly girl." I hung my head, as it was humiliating enough for her just to read them. I tried to imagine myself living those lines, and shuddered. Feeling the chill of the room against my skin, every tiny hair seemly stood on end as Diana moved on to the next item on my list of rules. "I have no idea where you came up with some of these notions, but my god, they are too much! Fetch me a glass of water, Lizzie." Waving her hand, she beckoned, as if nothing could be more simple.
Haltingly, I moved in the direction of the doors and dreaded fulfilling her request. I thought about my revealing experience with the footman in the dining room. Now I would stride through the house entirely naked. What had I done to myself. My only hope was that most of the staff had already retired. As it had not yet struck seven o'clock, this was very unlikely. Opening the doors, I crept into the upper hall and heard voices and laughter from below stairs. I was immediately taken back to my cousin's devious plot and her threat to expose me. As I stood at the top the stairs, I tried to run through what I would do or say in defense of my actions. Halfway to the bottom I realized that no words would compensate for this blatant act. I was beginning to regret this. As humiliating as this was, I was having trouble being aroused by it. My mouth was devastatingly dry, as I moved quietly across the lower hall and the kitchens. I knew damned well that most of the staff was there, and as their voices grew louder and more distinct, I cowered within myself. Would I simply stride through the room, the pump being on the far side of it? There would be no easy way.
The room silenced almost immediately, as I quickly picked my way through them. The looks on their faces were a mix of shock and amusement. Grabbing a goblet from the table, I made my way to the pump. The mechanical sound of the lever was deafening, being the only sound in the room, and it was very nearly comical. I could hear mutterings on the far side of the kitchen, the cool water finally filling the glass. As I turned to leave, it was to a chorus of laughter, and I thought I would surely melt into the flagstone floor. Only then did my arousal become apparent, with the intense humiliation of my unabashed exposure. I tried to avoid their faces as I moved between them, their comments insulting and degrading to the extreme. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I felt tears rolling over my cheeks. That was not the only moisture escaping me, feeling my thighs slide over the other, slick with my juices. The staff had followed me into the house, and jeered loudly as I ran up the stairs, and the relative safety of my rooms.
Diana was perched in an armchair that faced the door, apparently awaiting my return. My face must have spoken volumes, as she held her arms out to receive me. I flew into her, tears erupting from my eyes. It was an unequivocally singular experience. Nothing in my life thus far had come close to that humiliation. As she held me, she resoundingly reminded me that my situation was entirely self inflicted, lending an irreverence to her comforting embrace. The raucous voices from below stairs reaffirmed my humiliation, but at last my arousal overcame my regret.
"Oh, Diana, that was unbelievable." I shuddered, my skin alight with a strange mixture of shame and excitement.
"I am certain it was indescribable. So, what are we to do now, Lizzie?" She released me from her grasp, allowing me to kneel before her. "You certainly cannot carry on as Mistress of the house, not now." She shook her head, mockingly I think. I knew that she was in the right, but what were my options? "Tomorrow, as you have promised, you will ride with me to your solicitor, and we will make legal what we have already established in practice."
"I do not remember promising, but I took your proposal as acceptable, Mistress." A stern look of disapproval overtook her, and she raised her open hand to strike, but thought better of it. Perhaps she feared that I may change my mind should she express displeasure in such a manner. Instead, she pushed me over, and off balance, I fell onto my back. She immediately placed her boot over my exposed sex. The cold leather of her sole felt strange against me as she pressed more firmly, pinching my most sensitive nub into the bone of my pubis. I could feel the sharp edge of her heel, precariously close to entering me. Unconsciously, I angled my hips upwards, allowing the cold, square peg to slip into my well lubricated tunnel. Uncontrolled, a deep guttural moan escaped my parted lips, and I feared that the sensation, combined with the debasing nature of her assault, would cause me to swoon. Looking down between my legs, the point of her boot, tipped back and forth as she pumped her heel in and out of me.
"Well, you are such a filthy creature, allowing my soil ridden heel inside you. I don't think I could ever be persuaded to kiss you there again." Her degrading words only served to fuel my wanton lust. Pulling her foot away, she replaced her heel with the tip of her black patent boot, and I felt its size stretch me open, uncomfortably. "Perhaps I am mistaken, for it seems your filthy hole is soiling my boot." She would pull away and then reinsert the intruding foot a little deeper each time. I was ashamed of my body, which seemed to betray me by rising to her thrusts. I was unable to pry my eyes away from the spectacle. The shiny black leather was now coated with a milky white film, in evidence of my humiliation. Diana seemed to sense when I was close to my peak, pulling her foot away, eliciting a sigh of disappointment.