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
Chapter Ten
I had heard of the masquerade through a dear friend. She was aware of the situation between my cousin and myself. She was also aware of the unfortunate wager, whereby I lost my dear sweet Elizabeth. Eloise had taken control, and many weeks had passed since Elizabeth was taken from me. I feared the worst, knowing the depths to which Eloise was capable of sinking. I still bore the scars on my breasts from the whip wielded by her ogre of a manservant. I sympathetically cupped them, remembering the intense pain of the flogging. Surely, Elizabeth had suffered much worse than that by now.
As the date grew nearer, I began to put together a plan. I had to rescue her. Somehow, there would have to be a way. I would have no idea how to proceed until I saw the circumstances under which she was being held. Would I even see her? I was confident however, that Eloise would be anxious to display her new slave.
Trying to accomplish this single handedly would be foolhardy. I would need at least one accomplice, preferably two. My friend, Marcia would be one, for certain. Two days before the party, she visited me at my home to discuss our plan. She had also gathered information concerning Elizabeth and her condition.
"Apparently, Sarah, Eloise has seen fit to make your dear cousin one of her pets." I was not all that surprised. I remember being serviced by one of her other pets, I believe his name was William. He was most attentive. Nothing more than a dog in essence, he never said a word, although his tongue was most talented. I tried to picture Elizabeth in the same condition, and it was worrisome. As much as I wanted to have her back, I wondered how well she was adapting to her new role, and I could not help but be a little aroused over the notion of her stooping so low. My once haughty and proud cousin, brought down to nothing more than a dog.
The day of the masquerade was at hand, and I travelled with my friend, Marcia. She was the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in Devon. When he died unexpectedly, without an heir, his estate was entailed away to a cousin who had a sympathetic ear for Marcia. She was protected, but being left without any substantial dowry, had no marital prospects. A regular invitee to Markworth, she had an entrance which had been denied to me since my last visit.
The barouche box was comfortable, and was her own, a gift from her cousin. I was nervous as we approached the gates to the great estate. If I was caught in my ploy, I would most certainly be expelled, or worse. I had seen the wrath of Eloise, as an uninvited guest was escorted from her estate, naked and disgraced. After my last visit, nothing she could do would compare. I was more concerned for Elizabeth, for surely she would be punished if she cooperated with me.
We had deliberately arrived late, to avoid the push of too many prying eyes. As we prepared to leave the security of the carriage, I pulled my mask over my face, looking to Marcia for her approval. She nodded, and I knew that my identity would be well concealed under the extensive mask. Only my mouth was visible. I had borrowed one of the wigs I had purchased for Elizabeth, disguising myself as a blonde. The illusion was complete. I was to be Marcia's guest, a Miss Farnsworth from Gloucester.
The air was crisp as we emerged, my hand being taken by one of the wigged manservants, who assisted me down the steps of the carriage. Marcia followed, and we were escorted into the grand foyer of Markworth Hall. My skin crawled as I remembered my hasty ousting, rushed through those same doors, clothes in hand and naked as the day I was born. There was no carriage to carry me back to Exeter, and I was forced to walk the entire way, my clothing disheveled and self applied. The loose stays rubbed furiously against my striped skin, and I was in the most horrible pain. I wept most of the way, but not from the pain.
It was difficult to know to whom I was speaking, but most of the masks were revealing enough to give some hint of their occupants. Many of them were of the inner circle to which I once belonged. I worried that my identity would be revealed before I could make contact with Elizabeth. Drinks were served in the circumference of the great ballroom, and there was no sign of my cousin. I knew my disguise was adequate when I was introduced to Eloise, and there was no semblance of recognition. In fact, she dismissed me out of hand as being of no real consequence. What normally would have annoyed me, gave me some sense of security in my role.