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
*****
I often wondered why I had been so strangely seized with the submissive desires that had so controlled my adult life. Even before encountering my cousin, I had been taken with the lives of the servants in my parents' household. The way they bowed to the condescending attitudes of not only my parents, but their guests. I would often feel a thrill when the housekeeper would berate someone for a job not done well enough. I would feel badly for them, of course, but would try and put myself in their place, nonetheless.
Sarah came to me the next morning, excited over the prospect of a party we would be attending. I had only just been made aware of the event, and was thinking how unbearable the last party was for me, having to lie about myself. She assured me that this party would be very different, indeed. Instructed on the correct outfit to wear, found me piecing together the most provocative clothing I had ever worn, in public.
The bust was cut in such a way that should I bend over too far, my breasts would surely have tumbled out and into full view. The front of the gown was tapered up the front, forming a sort of inverted 'V", the apex peaking between my knees and sex. Although when falling straight, it was seemingly innocuous, even a slight breeze would have revealed the fact that I was wearing nothing underneath. I wondered if Sarah's taste for humiliating me, might have re-emerged. That was until I saw her own rather extraordinary frock, which left very little to be imagined. The thin, gauzy fabric clung lewdly to her every curve of her frame, and the final effect made it seem that she wore nothing at all, as the dress was cut in the most realistic of flesh tones.
"We really are quite a pair, aren't we?" She jested. Her hands smoothed the sheer fabric of the gown against herself, outlining her breasts finally, her hands stopping to bounce them seductively.
"What sort of party is this, that would allow us to wear anything so exhibitory?" I spread open the front of my gown in demonstration of my point.
"You shall see my sweet and most hairless lover." She ran her hand over my head, its nakedness a contrast to the ornamented gown which I wore.
"Which wig shall I wear?" I begged, holding up two of them as if to decide between my favorites.
"Oh, you shan't be wearing any." My look of surprise must have shocked her, for she giggled nervously over the idea.
"Sarah, I cannot possibly go out like this." My outstretched fingers accentuating my baldness like radiating sunbeams.
"Worry not, my love, for it will surely make you the life of the party." Now my curiosity was mixed with a sense of foreboding. The time had now come to ready ourselves as a carriage was being sent. I simply dreaded the idea of venturing out without the protection of my wigs, but Sarah seemed so positive that I would enjoy myself, that I was forced to believe her.
All manner of ideas flew though my head, as we traversed the Devonshire lanes that lead away from Exeter. The afternoon light had begun to soften into twilight, as we pulled into the courtyard of an elaborately decorated house. Spires of gothic ornament rose above the age stained limestone, giving Markworth Hall a sinister appeal. Three other carriages were waiting in the yard, but their occupants had already entered. As Sarah offered me her hand, I nervously looked about, before I exited the carriage.
The late afternoon breeze caressed me, and accentuated the feeling of extreme exposure as we approached the exquisitely carved doors. Before we had reached the top stair, they swung open in a welcoming gesture, revealing those who awaited our arrival. I recognized some the faces from the previous party, but in contrast to their conservative dress, all were in attire quite as provocative as our own.