“Hello, Miss.”

The boy was persistent, if nothing else, he had tried to stop me three times this week.

“My Master is looking for a nurse to sell something for him,” he pestered.

“What precisely does he want to sell?” I enquired.

“Don’t rightly know, Miss, he won’t explain what it does. But he is a proper Gentleman, a Doctor, foreign one though. German I thinks,” the urchin explained.

I would have no truck with it and continued from the hospital where I worked to the dinghy room where I lived with my mother and daughter. There was food on the table, but not much; I think my mother starved herself to give my daughter and me more to eat.

Somehow, I must resolve this poverty we found ourselves in; that night, I resolved to see whether the doctor was genuine, or not.

I left the hospital the following evening, a nightstick hidden about my person. The boy was there as before. I told him to escort me to his employer, so he led me through the London streets. Finally, we reached a small office set into the corner of an old warehouse.

He was a tall thin man, elegant you might say, he greeted me formally and asked me to sit. The boy was dismissed and he began his prepared speech.

“As a nurse, you will be aware of the hysteria ladies suffer from, I represent the supplier of a product which will treat this most delicate of female conditions. In England, I believe the product would be better demonstrated to patients by a fellow woman,” he concluded.

He placed a box before me and lifted the lid.

It was a brass cylinder, about ten inches long, tapering to a round snout at one end, and with a flat plate at the other. From the flat end, there protruded a watch key and a lever. I lifted the engine from its box and examined it; there was no doubt how the device was to be used.

“Herr Doctor, your accent is Swiss, do I take it that the product has the finest Swiss clockwork mechanisms?” I asked.

For a moment his face lit up.

“You are very perceptive Nurse, most of your countrymen think me to be German,” he smiled.

“I use the surname Smith, but my late husband was German, so I should be Schmitt. Alas Herr Doctor, I am not a salesperson, and would not know where to begin,” I told him.

His face saddened, we shook hands and I took my leave. He called after me, saying if I changed my mind to call on him.

That evening I sat in our room, it was dark, candles or the gas lamp were luxuries, my mother and daughter dozed an uneasy sleep. How would you sell a product like that, where would I go if I wanted to buy one?

At last, I envisaged a way I might sell this product, hastily I made notes and sketches while they were still in my mind. The next day I would find the boy and return to the Doctor.

***

He sat before me patiently listening to my plan, a mythical salesperson ‘Lady Violet’ would take an advert in a fashionable magazine, ‘The Lady’ would be a possible candidate. She would express her trust in the product and be willing to demonstrate it on application. A Post Office box could be used to collect the replies. Then Lady Violet would make an appointment to visit and extol the virtues of the device.

The Doctor pondered for a while, then, made his pronouncement.

“The principle interests me, but would an English Lady, sell to another Lady?”

He was correct, my plan was flawed, I felt as if the bubble I had formed had been burst.

“But, if it was a Nurse, after all, it is a piece of medical equipment,” he continued.

Together we changed the name and the advertisement, it would be Nurse Rose, and she would meet her patients dress in a nurse’s uniform.

We stared at the draft of the advertisement with some pride:-

Nurse Rose is proud to present a cure for Lady’s Hysteria.

This product of excellent quality can be used in the privacy of one’s own boudoir to induce voluptuous sensations and banish Feminine Hysteria

Nurse Rose would be pleased to personally prove the worth of this device at your convenience.

***

Three weeks later, after the publication of the next edition, I glanced at a copy in a newsagents shop; the advertisement was there much as I had laid it out. Four days after that the boy was waiting for me outside the hospital.

“The Doctor is most excited Miss; he says you should visit him.”

I followed the boy down the ever more familiar streets until we found ourselves at the Doctor’s warehouse.

"Frau Schmitt, we have received requests for Nurse Rose to demonstrate the engine,” the Doctor said.

There was a hint of excitement in his voice, but his Germanic nature suppressed any further emotion.

He had been very productive since our last meeting and had procured a white nurses uniform for me, together with calling cards.

We sent the boy around to each of the address with a calling card advising that Nurse Rose would visit late the following afternoon.

***

The first address was a large townhouse in a fashionable part of the city.

I was ushered into Lady Margret’s sitting room; her Ladies’ maid, Flora, attended on her. Taking the phallic engine from its box, I started to describe it’s features.

“You may demonstrate the device on my maid, she lives as a married woman,” Lady Margret said dismissively.

“Flora, pull your skirts up girl, and take those bloomers off, I want to see what is happening,” she continued.

The girl did as she was told and stood in the room, holding her skirts around her waist. Her legs were bare and a pair of plump lips peeped out from a soft matt of blonde pubic hair.

“The device can be used in a number of ways; firstly around the most delicate areas, to stimulate the female organ; perhaps before being visited by your husband.”

I stood behind the girl, I slid the brass lever across. A soft hum seemed to fill the room as I applied the vibrating truncheon to Flora’s clitoris. The girl’s face broke into a smile, her breathing became deeper.

“The tone of the vibration can be adjusted to suit a bodies own resonances. And, if the Master is not visiting your chamber that evening, the device can enter the body. Drawing the engine in and out of the body will mimic the marital act,” I continued.

Lady Margret nodded her consent to Flora’s body being used for further demonstrated. The girl squirmed and grabbed my arm for support. I watched her eyes close for a moment, and her whole body shuddered. A warm wetness flowed from her body and coated my fingers. I started to slide the device from her.

“Leave it in place, I wish to see how long the clockwork mechanism will last for,” Lady Margret decreed.

The girl’s eyes opened wide in disbelief when I pushed the engine up into her again; it slid easily into her vagina, and to further demonstrate its potential, I pushed it as deep into her body as her cavity would permit.

The servant's grip intensified almost to the point of hurting me, the flow of her vaginal fluids became a near flood, and I struggled to grip the engine. Then, her body could take no more, it shook for twenty or thirty seconds, a muffled scream emanated from her mouth and she fell to the floor

Flora lay on the floor in a state of Petite Mort, her eyes closed and, her legs wide open and a satisfied smile on her face. I wafted my file of smelling salts under her nose; as soon as the pungent smell of ammonia reached her nostrils, the girl woke with a start.

“Sorry M’Lady, I don’t know what came over me,” the girl said collecting her bloomers and heading for the door.

Impressive I will take one,” her Ladyship conceded.

“Are you a qualified nurse?” Her Ladyship said abruptly.

“Yes, Lady Margret I am,” I replied, expecting to be asked to further deal with the servant girl.

“I would like you to examine the female servants, to make sure they are…,” she hesitated.

“To make sure their maidenhoods are still in-tact?” I asked.

“Precisely, my Father-in-Law is a widower, and he may be becoming a little restless,” she said, relieved that I understood her.

A small price to sell the product I thought and was lead to a small room below stairs. In turn, the girls were brought to me, and, I would explain what I would do. Each would lift their skirts and petty-coats. I got each to turn around, then, bend over. Pulling their bloomers open and parted their labia.

It was a good household, the housekeeper, knowing her Ladyship’s wishes, had told each to bathe the night before.

Opening the young, virginal vulvas was embarrassing for them, but no hardship; only Dora seemed nervous at the intrusion. Her maidenhead was still intact, but her anus was red and sore.

“Is that where His Lordship takes his pleasure?” I asked her quietly.

“Yes Nurse, he’s a good man, and doesn’t want to leave me with child,” her voice sounded frightened.

“That is fine, Dora, but I will give you some cream to soothe the soreness, and some grease which you should ask his Lordship to apply to his member before entering you,” I told her, as I slid a medicated finger into her rectum.

Dora gasped, part in surprise, part in joy as I intruded deeper into her body. She would be one of those women for whom anal sex was more pleasurable than vaginal.

Again, I was ushered into Lady Margret’s presence, her Father-in-Law sat quietly at the back of the room.

“May I speak openly, my Lady?” I asked politely indication a male in the room.

“You may,” she said loftily.

“I examined the four girls brought to me by your Housekeeper, and all four are Virgo Intacta,” Your Ladyship.

“Are you sure?” she asks dismissively.

“Indeed Madam, I have performed that function many times in the Hospital. And occasions presented my findings to the Police,” I assured her.

“Thank you, Nurse you may go, but I will see you in a day or so upon that other matter.”

My audience had ended; I left the room, closely followed by His Lordship, who ushered me into his study.

“Thank you for your discretion Nurse, you have saved a great deal of difficulty within the family,” he told me.

I asked if he has spoken to Dora, he nodded.

“Then Sir, if you would apply the Vaseline to your member, it will ease your passage, and hers, I smiled.

As I left his study, he pressed a small heavy coin into my hand and thanked me again. I didn’t dare to look at it, could I be that fortunate? Even so, I had earned it as Nurse Rose; I wasn’t entitled to a penny of it.

***

I went on to my next appointment, the Dowager Duchess of Abberguille. A large Georgian property in an expensive part of London.

I was led to the Duchess’s rooms; the lady sat demurely the edge of her bed, beside her, another female.

“Nurse, this is my companion, Miss Cole,” she pointed vaguely in the woman’s direction.

Miss Cole was a thin woman, in her fifties, with a gentleman’s hair cut, tweed trousers, a linen shirt and matching tweed waistcoat. She eyed me up and winked at me.

“You can try the device upon her,” the Duchess decreed.

“No, we won’t, my Duch. It’s you it’s got to work on, so it’s you we will try it on,” she said coarsely.

With that, she upended the older woman so that she was laid back on the bed. Her hooped petticoat formed a canopy under which Miss Cole and I sheltered.

The companion pulled aside the Duchess’s finest silk bloomers with, practised ease, before us, a mass of white pubic hair hidden a pair of long, and well used labia. I explained the operation of the vibrating engine, and Miss Cole took the device in her hand. Then, she sniffed it, then ran her tongue along its side.

“And which little darling has this just been pulled from?” Miss Cole asked.

Wickedly I whispered it was a Lady’s Maid called Flora.

She drew some spittle on to her fingers, applied it to the old woman’s crutch, pushed the small leaver to start the clockwork, then, drove it into her employer’s body.

From above us, there was a groan, Miss Cole used the key to adjust the tone of the device until she heard the Duchess whimper.

“Well I think Nurse Rose is much more to my taste than this old bird,” she leered.

I felt her hand under my uniform, she found the opening in my bloomers and invaded my privacy.

This was too much, first Flora’s juices running down the engine and coating my hand. Next four virginal vulvas, each begging to be initiated into that love, which the Greek women of Lesbos shared after they had murdered their husbands.

Two fingers passed up into my moist vagina; then came a kiss which, I had burned to feel another woman’s lips for so long time. Her tongue tasted of cigar smoke; it reminded me of my late husband. In unison, Miss Cole forced the engine in and out of the Duchess, and her fingers in and out of me.

She pulled the engine from the old woman and pushed it into me.

“A taste of your own medicine eh?” she whispered.

A muffled voice from the bed complained that the device had stopped.

I’m winding the mechanism up, you have run it down. I’m always telling you, you take too long to dispel your hysteria,” her Companion called back.

Out of me and back into the white-haired vagina it went; this time Cole ground it around until we heard a gurgle from the old woman.

“Less than ten minutes, sometimes, it takes an hour,” Miss Cole said.

She closed the silk bloomers, as someone would draw the curtains.

The Duchess looked red-faced and exhausted when we righted her.

“I don’t know if we will purchase one,” the old woman pronounced.

“Look Duch, anything which saves my aching wrist is good for you, and good for me,” Miss Cole told her.

Reluctantly her employer accepted the decision.

Miss Cole accompanied me out of the Duchess’s bedchamber; a few steps down the hall, she opened a door and pulled me into her room. Again her hand was under my uniform, and again, her tongue tasted of cigars. This time, I unfastened her trousers and, pushing them down, delighted that she was wearing no undergarments.

It was my turn to invade Miss Cole; two fingers of my right hand slipped easily into her vagina, unnoticed by my amour, my left hand held the device behind her back.

A moment later the vibrating engine passing through her anus, came as a complete shock. She stood bolt upright and accepted her fate.

I could see, her whole body was in harmony with the timbre of the engine.

She grabbed me and pulled me close, part for support, part for companionship. Her body stiffened, and she groaned through clenched teeth. I switched the device off and withdrew it from her anus. Her ramrod body relaxed.

“Nurse Rose, you are a pet aren’t you. Bring the Old Duch’s device around next Friday evening, I’ll tell you why then,” Miss Cole said, hauling up her trousers.

***

I returned to Herr Doctor’s rooms and I explained that I made the two sales from two visits; then, I explained about the medical examinations. I drew the coin from my uniform and looked at it for the first time. It was a sovereign, I stared at it in my hand for a moment, then went to pass it to Herr Doctor. He waved me away.

“You used your own skills as a nurse, I do not own them, I have enough to thank you for,” Herr Doctor smiled

“I am sorry, Frau Elisabeth, but there are more letters from London for you to attend to,” he smiled again.

Neither of us was sorry.

I collected two of the vibrating engines, the letters of enquiry to Nurse Rose., and with a sovereign in my pocket, I walked the long way home, though well-lit streets. I paid the butcher’s account, and the grocer’s. There was bread, meat and cheese for dinner, ribbons for my daughter’s hair, and a little port wine and tobacco for my mother.

That evening I sent letters to the two most likely customers and suggested a visit on Friday.

My first call on the appointed day was a simple one. The maid was expecting me and, showed me to into her mistress’s chamber. I described the engine and its operation; she asked if it was clean and, I assured her it was.

Her maid and I stood by as she stabbed forcefully into her own body for a few minutes; then, grunted and declared it to be satisfactory.

I had made another sale.

Next was Mrs Asheart, her dwelling was not in the most fashionable area, but it was a substantial dwelling which spoke of ‘new money, rather than old.

Once inside, the Housekeeper took me to her Ladyship’s chamber.

A woman in her middle or late twenties sat on the bed, and surveyed me closely; my hair, my face, my breast. I had seen that look before and knew what it was.

“It is my ladies maid’s afternoon off, we will not be disturbed as you demonstrate the engine,” she told me.

I explained the mechanism and asked if I should demonstrate it upon her, she nodded.

I parted her bloomers, a thin mat of auburn pubic hair covered her mound, her labia were tightly closed and didn’t look as if her husband, had been attentive to her for some time.

“Madam, the engine may hurt unless there is moisture to lubricate it. May I moisten you?” I asked.

She nodded.

My fingers opened her labia, and I drove my tongue between them.

She swooned and slipped from the bed onto me; our faces just inches apart.

“Can you keep a secret, Nurse?” The Lady asked.

I assured her that any secret would be safe with me. She spoke again, her faltering words were half begging, half in prayer.

“There was a German girl at my finishing school; we shared a bedroom so that my spoken German language would improve, as would her English. At night she would lay naked with me, she knew how to sate my desires. I am desperate for those feeling to be rekindled.”

I rolled her from me and helped her to her feet. Then, locked the door. The buttons of her dress yielded easily to me; I slipped it from her shoulders and placed it on a chair. Her bloomers were next, then the silk chemise.

She stood naked in front of me; hurriedly I removed my own clothes and led her to the bed.

“I want to taste you the way I tasted the other girl,” she told me.

I moved us into the position, I am told the French prefer, and as her tongue swirled around my clitoris, I feel my release building in a way I had not felt for years. I knew my discharge would be copious. Again I moved, this time we lay like pairs of scissors trying to cut each other. I ground my labia into hers, her body bucked against mine.

I closed my eyes, and made one last thrust against her; by barren years were over, and vigorously my fluids discharge into her; she too felt her passage flooded, and her body shuddered in response in kind.

I took her into my arms and kissed her; Miss Cole's kiss was hard and masculine, but this had the softness of another woman’s kiss. All of the joy and excitement of this hidden love returned to me. The smell of another woman’s hair, of her perfume, the round contours of her body.

I was in love again, not just with this woman, but with all of them.

Mrs Asheart agreed to buy an engine but wished me to visit and regularly apply it to her. She would compensate me for my loss of earnings.

Did that make me a prostitute? In the end, I considered myself to be her paid mistress, why not her husband probably had one.

Lovingly, I dressed her again and took my leave.

***

Next, I went to the address of Lady Margret, Dora answered the door curtseying to me. I ask her to place the package in Lady Margret’s rooms, then asked about her health.

“That jelly is really good, Miss. His Lordship loves it as well, he floods me with his stuff now, and he ain’t so sore afterwards either,” she whispered excitedly.

It happened that His Lordship walked past at that moment.

“Afternoon Nurse, I trust all is well?” He beamed. “We may need some more of the cream and the jelly, next month, you would be recompensed of course,” he said, cautiously looking about.

I told him I would attend to it on the first Wednesday of the coming month, and took my leave. Walking towards the Duchess’s villa, my mind was filled with images of Dora: her skirts pushed up, and buttocks splayed open by His Lordship’s hard erection. The joy she must now feel, as the tool slips easily in, and out of her.

I could sense the moisture between my legs as I arrived for my next appointment. I rang the bell, the door was opened by Miss Cole, who ushered me in.

The Old Duch has taken the servants down to her brother’s estate in Devon, for their annual Servant’s Ball,” she said, as we walked up the stairs.

We entered her room and she locked the door behind us. Without saying a word, I unbuttoned her waistcoat. Her cuffs were next, the links bore delicate flowers; a counterpoint to the masculine cut of her shirt. Beneath that shirt, her breasts hung free; each button I released revealed more of them.

Sunk deep into the valley between these great orbs, a talisman to Saints Perpetua and Felicity, who were martyred for expressing their love for each other.

I took the charm into my hand and expressed my love for Miss Angela Cole.

She let her breasts swing down over my face; her nipples stroked my lips until I could bear it no longer and let them gain entry to my mouth.

I held and suckled on one, then the other, finally their owner buried her face into the pillow beside me and groaned. I had two lovers now, and more would follow. Nurse Rose had become my alter ego, she feeds my family, and finds me lovers. My life is complete.