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Maude/Madeleine Part 2

Tags: lesbian, historic,
A destitute girl finds education and pleasure
You may care to read the first part of this story before embarking on this episode. It will explain the context.

The following morning as instructed I found myself in Mistress Pickles’s bedchamber.

'Jenkins reports that you learn well and quickly. I knew you would. Come, girl, undress and show me what you have learned at her hands. I hastily removed my attire but slowed when she told me to take more time and to give her the pleasure of a slow revelation of my body. She had me stand quite naked before her and when innate modesty guided me to cover my mound, she told me peremptorily to place my hands on my head. Hesitantly I did so.

‘Did Jenkins touch herself before she allowed you to?’ I confirmed that she had. ‘Show me how.’ I lowered one hand to my and used my finger as Jenkins had used hers. It was only embarrassment and slight fear that prevented me from enjoying the feelings this touching evoked in me. ‘Spread yourself for me, Madeleine, reveal yourself for my eyes to enjoy.’

I followed her instructions as I had followed those of Jenkins the night before. Mistress Perkins suddenly cast aside her bed coverings and indicated I should join her upon the fine silk sheets. I raised myself up onto the high bed and she touched my body most intimately. She cupped my breasts, tweaked my nipples, stroked my back, covered my private parts with her hand and even entered me there a little way. She smiled then and said mysteriously, ‘As I hoped.’ She had me lie of my front and explored between my buttocks. I cried out as she delved there but she told me merely to be silent and continued her caressing and probing. Then she had me sit up and I watched as she removed her nightgown. She threw the fine garment to the floor and in a voice which had developed a certain huskiness she commanded me to suckle her. Remembering all that Jenkins had shown me I bent my mouth to her large breast and its dark, hard nipple. Hers were much larger than Jenkins’ and I suckled and licked, kissed and teased first one then the other.

Mistress Perkins made guttural noises and issued instructions rather as Jenkins had the previous evening. I found myself curiously relaxed and happy. Happier still was I when she pushed me, not roughly or unkindly but with a certain urgency, to the conjunction of her legs which were now spread wide and open. I fell upon her and replicated all I had been taught by Jenkins. She pushed me away, told me to lie on my back and then straddled my face, her hands against the bed’s headboard and pressed herself down onto my mouth. She started a sort of keening noise then small blubberings escaped her lips and she stiffened and a soft, low growl came from her. She seemed to succumb as I had and Jenkins had for after that she dismounted from me and rested herself back against the headboard. She rang a bell and Jenkins entered the bedchamber, bringing coffee not merely for Mistress Perkins but, so it appeared, for me too. Jenkins left having received praise for her tuition and the Mistress began to talk to me, her hands all the while moving to some intimate part of me.

She named those parts as she touched them. ‘This is your cunny, this your mount of Venus and this, this is your dark star,’ I squirmed but she maintained her finger’s pressure there and continued, shh, girl, there is no part of you that is not capable of bringing pleasure to you or to another. Between each lesson she explained my new duties. “My guests enjoy such pleasures. I amuse some myself, but they are the ladies of the highest orders of society and that is the reason for our total discretion. You will be popular amongst the ladies. You are pretty, well-formed and you have learned quickly but there is so much more for you to learn. You will be, for my guests, immoderate, wanton and yet retain your dignity. Do you understand?’ I did not, and I told her so. ‘Jenkins will continue your education and so shall I. We will make you into the finest companion for our guests, I have no doubt. Go now and send Jenkins to me.’

From henceforth I was to be available to her or to Jenkins as required. In addition to these personal services for them, I was to be introduced to her ‘friends’ for their pleasure too.

Jenkins sent for me that afternoon. I went again to her private quarters. She led me into a room I had not been aware of hitherto. It was a large room and along one wall were rack upon rack of fine dresses of the sort our Mistress wore. I soon realised this was the house ladies’ wardrobe. The clothes were of the finest fabrics and would have graced Duchesses’ bodies. Jenkins spent a good while finding dresses that would fit me although some needed alteration for which the almost mute Amy, my bed-companion, was sent. She was, so it seemed, a seamstress like my mother. Her nimble fingers worked thread and needle until the selected garments fit me as if made for me. She sewed my initials into them and they were hung on a separate rack and I noticed that other garments bore the initials of others. I assumed these were the other ladies of the house. A selection of fine undergarments were set aside for me, garments of the sort I could never have afforded and of the most delicate and elegant construction.

Jenkins sent Amy away and led me upstairs to one of the rooms which until now I had been banned from entering. It was a bedchamber like none I had ever seen. Images of women in poses of outrageous immodesty were around the walls. The bed itself, large and dressed like the Mistress’s own stood against one wall. Candelabra stood on mantel and table, a soft chaise longue beneath another. She led me to a chest of drawers and opened the topmost drawer. Here were implements which mystified me.

‘These are pleasure-givers. Our guests will use them or have you use them. We will continue your education with them.' She took out a slender, glossy item which looked like a small truncheon, a child’s version of those carried by nightwatchmen. She caressed it and there was a look in her eye which suggested her arousal. ‘Lift your dress.’

I was still wearing my normal dress and undergarments and lifted the dress above my knees. ‘Higher, girl.’ I lifted it until the gap in my bloomers was visible to her. She pushed me gently to sit on the edge of the bed and opened my legs. She stroked my cunny and, having licked her finger, slid it into me. I felt the stirring of my intimate parts and when she was satisfied she said, ‘You see how this makes you moist there?’ I nodded. ‘This so that the insertion of this,’ she lifted the truncheon,’ is not merely comfortable but exquisite. It is called a dildo and many guests prefer it to their menfolk’s pricks.’ I had no idea what a prick was. ‘Feel how it enters you and makes you full.’ She did not push it deep but merely allowed it pass the first of my folds.

‘You are a virgin?’ I nodded. ‘The Mistress has chosen well. Her guests will pay handsomely for the opportunity to deflower you and she will select someone who will be gentle and not hurt you. She is, to those who serve her well, a most generous Mistress. Remove all your clothes.’ I hesitated and she looked at me with a hard stare. ‘If you are to be a success you must relinquish your modesty. In the street you will be an elegant lady but in these rooms you are whatever the guest requires. That may be a common whore or a passionate lover. Do you understand?’ I did and promptly removed all my clothes. ‘Become accustomed to nakedness, take pride in showing your body to someone who appreciates it.’

Other items from that top drawer were shown to me. Some, she explained, were for the infliction of what she called erotic pain. ‘Some women like to feel the sting of a cane or the caress of this leather whip. They may expect you to. You will learn at my hands how these things may bring some discomfort but, used correctly, can also bring intense pleasure. That is your business from now on, pleasure.’ She looked into my eyes. ‘I see you are beginning to understand.’

‘Yes, Miss Jenkins, I do believe I am.’

Jenkins unbuttoned her trousers and a slender dildo suddenly appeared as if by magic. She held it in her hand and stroked it. It was not like the truncheon. It was smaller, finer and quite short. She stood behind me and I felt a wet finger press against my dark star. My body resisted almost unconsciously but she persisted, whispering into my ear, ‘Do not resist, learn the pleasure that can come to you. Until your virginity is gone this is where I shall enjoy you and you will learn to love it, to crave it.’ Her finger passed the resistance and indeed I moved from discomfort to pleasure. ‘I knew you would love it.’

Her finger was removed somewhat to my disappointment but then I felt another urgent pressure and I knew that the small dildo was replacing it. Jenkins rocked her hips behind me and her arms folded around me, one at my breast, one at the top of my cunny. As she invaded me her finger danced across that part of my cunny and I felt an enormous wave of pleasure. ‘Your nub is the very centre of pleasure, Madeleine. Every woman has one and every woman loves it to be employed to her pleasure. Is it not wonderful?’ I could barely answer, such was the effect of her ministrations. Suddenly she made a croaking noise and I perceived that she too was in a paroxysm of passion. Her fingers tightened on my nipples and she gasped and moaned. She calmed and I felt her withdraw from me.

‘That, Madeleine, is called “Le petit mort” and is the ultimate pleasure a woman can feel. She turned me around and showed me how the device protruding from her trousers was also partially inside her own cunny. ‘As I pleasure you so it pleasures me. There is much for you to learn.’ I was provided with a new room of my own and moved my few belongings with Amy crying softly although we had hardly spoken two words to each other on any day. I felt a certain pride but also a little disquiet. Was I prepared for what was to come?

It was many days before I was introduced to any of Miss Pickles’ guests. My education continued for those days and I grew proficient enough for Mistress Pickles to reward me with a two-day visit to my mother and with gifts of money and food and clothing for her. She was utterly delighted and kissed me repeatedly for a good and obedient daughter. She asked no questions regarding my employ and I gave her no indications save that I was happy and well cared for.

One afternoon, Jenkins came to the little room where still I plied my secretarial trade. I was instructed to wash thoroughly and then remove to the wardrobe room, select a dress and undergarments and don them before presenting myself to the Mistress in her sitting room. I did as I was told and as quickly as the task allowed I knocked on her door. The summons to enter was given and I opened the door, entered a few paces and curtsied. ‘You sent for me, Mistress Pickles.’ It was only then that I noticed another lady was with her, sitting on a delicate chair close to the large window. She was finely dressed, her black hair pinned elegantly, her hat a mere folly on top of it. She wore gloves and, I saw, shoes of the finest quality and with pearl buttons. Jenkins was also present, standing silent in the corner, her dark coat and britches perfectly groomed as always.

“This,’ said Mistress Pickles, ‘is Madeleine about whom we have spoken.’

The lady examined me from her chair. I estimated her age at about 40, she was fine boned and had very dark eyes. ‘You never fail to astound, Mistress Pickles. She will do nicely, most nicely indeed.’ She stood and came to me, cupped my face and stroked my cheek. ‘I shall be here this evening at 8. With that she departed, ushered obsequiously by Jenkins.

‘So, my dear Madeleine, your first lady and, my, such a lady she is. Did you recognise her?

‘I did not, Mistress.’

‘Then let us say merely that normally she is a guest whom I amuse personally but in view of your being a cherry for her to pick you will be her pleasure tonight.’ She looked into my eyes and suddenly hauled her dress up and spread her legs. She was quite naked beneath and she pointed at her cunny. ‘Practice, girl.’ I did so and after a considerable interval was rewarded by her petit mort. “Practice makes perfect,’ she whispered and sent me away.
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