Issing Cousins

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 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 One: Leaving London

Quite simply, it was time to get away from the life that I once found so enticing. My failing marriage, my prying relations and my disturbing acceptance of mediocrity had come to end. As the carriage trundled down the old London road, I was still in awe of my decision. I was leaving, and with no notice or instruction. Smiling inwardly, I gazed out the window as the lush Berkshire countryside slipped by. It was finally over.

My cousin, knowing of my desire for change, had graciously offered to take me in, should I ever muster the courage to leave. She was of the mind that I should have ended my marriage years before. It never being a simple thing for a lady to leave her husband, there were certain logistic hurdles than needed to be breeched beforehand. Much to my husband's chagrin, mine was the money in the house, having brought with me a sizable fortune.

Unlike my cousin, my inheritance was not entailed away. Her parents had passed recently, of natural causes, and her younger brother had inherited. Preferring London over the country, he granted her leave to stay in their family home. I was an only child and with no living relatives, the estate fell upon me when my parents were tragically killed.

Having not taken a husband as yet, the money was held in a trust until such time that I did. The solicitors had the wits to keep the money under my control, rather than place the entire sum into the marriage, as was the custom. As such, he lived in precarious doubt, never really having control of that which he desired more than me.

Now that I had left, he was going to find life rather a challenge. I felt no remorse for his poor fortune, as he was an abusive man who had threatened me on more than a few occasions, even with physical violence should I not acquiesce to his demands. Although he had no idea where I had gone, it would not take him long to figure it out. For this reason, and this reason alone, I left him with a single and unwavering proposition:

Husband,

Know that I have left you, once and for all. My tolerance for your behavior having come to an end, there was little else left for me to do. I am leaving you with the sum of fifty thousand pounds, which my solicitors will deliver to you in a few days time.

There is a condition attached to this generous offer, and I strongly suggest you accept the terms. You will agree to never pursue me in any manner, even so much as a letter. Should you violate this agreement, then all monies granted within this decree shall be forfeit. I am allowing you to move forward with your life, and giving you the means by which to do it. Please, allow me the same.

Elizabeth

I considered it a generous offer, considering the hell he had put me through. Granted, it was a fraction... a small fraction of my worth, but his was not to question my good nature. My relationship with Sarah was different from the start. Both having been raised in Devon, she and I were often thrown together as children. With her family hailing from Exeter and mine from Plymouth, there was a fair length of road between our estates. It was therefore not uncommon for one or the other to spend extended periods of time. We became quite close, for cousins.

When my parents were killed, I was just eighteen, and too young to be left alone in the great house on Dartmoor. Instead, after the funeral, I was transported to my cousin's estate. Sarah was a full year older than I, and had been out for some time. She had been courted by several eligible men, but she had yet to tip her hat. For me, this was a strange world. I had only just come out, and had yet to be approached in spite of my parent's fortune. It was not that I was unattractive, for I had been told that my countenance was quite pleasing. I thought that perhaps the isolation of our estate, had more to do with it than anything else.

Sarah had insisted on me staying with her. She had a small suite of rooms and one of them would most certainly do for me. As I settled into my bedroom, I was too upset to notice how poorly appointed it was. In comparison to my own rooms in Plymouth, it was tiny, and Sarah's quite eclipsed it as well. As I had stated, I barely noticed. I settled in over the next few days, and began to come out of my depression over the loss of my parents. Spending most of my time with Sarah in her rooms, I simply took my living arrangements as a temporary inconvenience. It was after a month or so, that I noticed a distinct change in the way Sarah would address me. Her condescending attitude seemed to grate on my good nature.

"Elizabeth? Do you ever wonder why your room is so very much smaller than my own?" Not wanting to seem ungrateful, I declined to answer. "Since your parent's fortune is locked away from you, it has fallen upon our good charity to take you in." Her comment seemed a bit out of line, even for her.

"But I am not without a fortune, Sarah." I complained. "It is merely set aside until I have secured a husband." She chuckled.

"And how is it that you mean to find a husband with no way to exhibit yourself?" I had no answer for her, and she made me question the arrangements made by the solicitors.

"I do not know." Meekly, I cowed to her aggressive stance.

"Well, Elizabeth, I am in need a maidservant. I think you'll do nicely." I was shocked by her assertion that I should become her indentured servant. "Mind you, that this will be our little secret. My parents have forbidden me from having a maid, as I so abused the last one." I wanted to run away from her, to find my way back to Plymouth. I knew that this was an impossible quest. I was completely under her control and there was nothing I could do about it. My house had been locked up and there was no one there. The moor was a lonely place even with the company of others.

The situation grew from uncomfortable to intolerable very quickly. During the day, we would be the two adoring cousins, best friends and companions. At night, I was put through my paces as her maid. She would have me clean her rooms, reset her gowns, brush her hair and other tasks too numerous to mention. Not only this, but I was forced to dress as a maid as well. She had secured a livery from the lockers below stairs, and insisted I wear it. It was a very plain black frock, and she seemed to revel in watching me toil for her.

One day, as I was scrubbing her bath, she came to me with a very odd demand. I was very nearly finished with the floors, the marble being spotless. "You will remove your livery, Elizabeth." I wasn't certain I had heard her correctly, so I continued to clean. "Take off your clothing!" Her voice raised, she startled me. Standing, I hesitated in my compliance. Suddenly, she lurched forward and tore the front of my frock down to my waist. Unrestrained, my bosom came tumbling out and I desperately sought to cover myself. Piece by piece she tore away at me, until nothing was left but the boots on my feet. I was so shocked that near the end I offered no resistance. So, at the end of it I stood with my hands at my side, naked before her. "The boots."

Having sufficiently broken me, I bent to remove them in haste. The marble felt strangely cold against my bare feet, but this was not the only sensation I was having. For reasons unknown, I found myself strangely excited. The same excitement I would feel when confronted with an attractive young gentleman. I could not account for it, as this had been the most shattering experience of my life.

"Gather the scraps and follow me." She gestured towards her boudoir. I felt ridiculous standing before her naked, holding the clothing that she had literally ripped from my body. "You can put them in there." She pointed towards the hearth where a well stoked fire burned, and I questioned her with my eyes. "Do it, now!" She pushed. Without a seconds delay, I tossed the spoiled livery into the flames and watched as it was engulfed. "You see, Elizabeth, by not obeying me, you have forced me to destroy your livery. Now you will have to perform your chores as you are." Surely, she didn't mean to see me naked each evening, and toiling in such a manner? Again, a twinge of delight from between my thighs. What was this? She must have known I was reaching my limit, for soon afterwards she excused me to bed.

That night as I laid under my covers, I could not help but relive the events of that evening. The recollection brought with it the same arousal of feelings that I had experienced earlier. I raised my nightdress and allowed my hand to caress myself, slowly at first. I began to imagine performing my duties naked as she had threatened to have me do. There was an indescribable pleasure peaking within me as those thoughts came to bear, and I forced my fingers to move more desperately. Such sensations I had never known, but I had no doubt that I would be revisiting this time and time again as I overflowed with the feeling.

As I rose the following morning, I was exhilarated over my discovery of the night before. How had I grown to the age of eighteen and not delved into such pleasures that were only a touch away. All day long I had yearned for the seclusion of Sarah's rooms, where I could live out the fantasy that had so enticed the night before. As surely as a setting sun, the time came that Sarah and I excused ourselves from the main party and retired. Entering my meager quarters, I excitedly removed my opulent gown, in trade for my raw and eager nudity. Sarah was pleased with my compliance. At first very little was different. I performed the tasks she asked of me, and there was no interference. The very great difference for me was that I was completely naked. As I worked, I was embarrassed by the moisture that would trap itself in the hair between my thighs. I wondered if Sarah would notice, should I bend the wrong way in her presence.

It was quite apparent that she too was more than simply amused by my state. Her facial expressions were lost between power and excitement. She began to follow more closely, until she seemed to be right upon me. She would allow this for a short while and then retreat back to her chair to observe me from a distance once again. This little game went on for weeks, until one day we were discovered.

Her mother had entered her rooms unannounced and witnessed the spectacle of her daughter, presiding over a naked and quite dirty maidservant. We were separated at once. Were my parents alive, this report would surely have killed them. As it was, I escaped with very little damage to myself.

I was hastily moved to my Uncle's home in Sussex, and not to see Sarah for quite some time. She was chastised by her parents, although I had never learned the nature of it. The balance is what brought me to the beginning of this story. I met my husband, inherited my fortune, and rest as they say, is history.

Sarah and I had never again discussed those times, and it had been a good ten years since. I wondered if her parents had been so hard on her that she was forced to purge the entire event from her mind. I had heard of such things occurring. I had to admit to rekindling those emotions I had felt then. Although nothing of a sexual nature had ever transpired between us, I felt quite certain that given time, it would have.

I was not even sure if I had the same desires as I once had, but the idea that they could somehow be reborn, was titillating to say the least. I was lost in my thoughts as the carriage crossed into Devon, and the countryside changed noticeably. Gone were the rich greens and crowded forests, replaced by expansive fields of yellowed grass. Hilltops crowned with rocks marked the way as we grew closer to the sea.

Riding all day had taken its toll, and I was in desperate need as the carriage pulled up in front of Sarah's family house. Seeing my harried expression, she immediately saw to my needs, escorting me into a small room by the front door. I was thankful for the pot, as she stood by grinning. "Good to see you, cousin." Embarrassed, I stood and poured the contents out the door, making certain no one was looking. "Long journey, I know." She accommodated, and was even helpful in bringing in my cases and bags. The place was much smaller than I remembered it being, but I was so naive in my youth.

"Yes, quite long, Sarah. Thank you." I curtsied slightly as was the custom, but she made no attempt to do the same. "I suppose you will install me in the same quarters as before?" I was speaking in jest.

"If that's alright, yes." I was immediately aroused, and not in a passive way. I thought I might double over with my reaction.

"Yes, Sarah, that will be fine." She smiled, knowing that I had given her permission to pick up where we had so abruptly left off.

"I am afraid that I do not have any help at the moment, so we will have to move your things ourselves." Not wanting to disappoint, I suggested that I shift them on my own. "Very well then. Once you're all settled, I will meet you in the parlor." And with that, she disappeared, a definite lilt in her step. Was I really going to subject myself to this, all over again? If my sex would have its way, there would be no doubt whatsoever. If I didn't know better, I would say she was counting on my willingness to resume our previous activities. As I entered my old room, I noticed some significant changes had been made. The comfortable four post bed had been exchanged for a small, single mattress and frame. All was plain and stark. Not a single painting or mirror graced the walls. In fact, the only furniture in the room was the bed and a small table, just large enough for a candlestick. Not having a place to unpack, I stacked my things in the corner of the room and returned below stairs.

I found Sarah in the parlor, sipping a brandy. "I pray you found the accommodations acceptable, Elizabeth?" I really wasn't certain what she expected me to say.

"They are a little more Spartan than those to which I am accustomed." I mewled.

"Oh, I am quite certain they are." I could feel the moisture on the inside of my thighs as I took in my new reality. "But, they are acceptable?" Pressing, she was insisting on my answer.

"Yes, Sarah, they are quite fitting." Was I simply going to play right into her hands? Apparently, I was.

"Good!" She giggled. She rose and poured us each a glass of brandy. As I accepted the small stemmed glass, she continued with her probing. "I do not suppose there is any need for us to pretend any longer, is there? We are quite on our own here, and nothing to interfere, this time." She raised her glass, and in a gesture of mutual understanding, we toasted the day.

At her instruction, I removed my cases and bags to her rooms, unpacking their contents into the closets and drawers. That, and also at her bidding, included the clothing I was wearing. I had effectively given her all I possessed, save for my fortune, which remained safe from her pleasure. Empty, I then had to them move them into the cellar. The rough stone steps were painful on my naked feet, especially with the added weight of the luggage. Sarah did not even observe me during this dehumanizing act. The fact that she was so disinterested made the task that much more humiliating.

I soon discovered that she fully intended to keep me in that delicate state, with no reprieve. My constant arousal fed my need for her attention, but she was selfish in doling it out. Perhaps she was testing me? Seeing just how far she could press before I objected. For all intents and purposes, I was ignored for three days. I was not spoken to nor was I allowed to speak. Meals were solitary affairs, for both of us. Not being offered any direction, I made up chores to do, partly because of sheer boredom, but also because it excited me to perform them. My nakedness allowed unfettered access to my sex, and although she forbade it, I found myself unconsciously dallying.

I was beginning to feel a bit bothered over the arrangement by the third day, but I was about to discover how strange things could actually become. Having just finished cleaning the kitchen after luncheon, Sarah approached me in haste. Grabbing my hands, she brought them quickly to her nose. I had just taken a small amount of pleasure while hidden in the larder, and I knew she suspected my disobedience. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Smell your fingers, girl!" I hesitantly did as she asked, taking in the unmistakable musk of my arousal. "What is that horrible odor?" My mouth hung open, but I knew I had to answer her.

"My sex." The words barely audible.

"What is it?" She yelled.

"My sex!" Equally loud, I belted out my shame.

"I do remember forbidding you that pleasure, did I not?" I nodded, but then quickly responded.

"Yes, Sarah, you did." The berating treatment was having a devastating effect on me, and I knew that those same juices where flowing copiously from between my lips. Shockingly, she ran her hand through my most private valley, and not surprisingly, took it away full of the same. Her fingers glistened, small strands webbing between them. After examining her hand, she hoisted it to my face.

"Clean this filth off my hand." She threatened, her eyes narrowing into slits. I searched for a rag with my eyes, but her intensions were suddenly clear. "With your mouth, girl." At first the idea was repulsive to me, but then, if only to please her, I opened my mouth allowing her to insert her fingers. The taste was not as unpleasant as I had anticipated, the salty sweet liquid coating my tongue. How amazingly humiliating this was. It was more than apparent that the act of licking myself off her hand, was quick to produce more of the same. When I had finished, she stepped back and crossed her arms over her breast. "Continue." She demanded. For a moment I puzzled over her order, but it then dawned on me what she intended.

Dipping my fingers into my own sex, I could scarcely believe what I was being asked to do. I felt so disgusting as I fed myself, time after time, until I was so aroused that I could feel my legs shaking beneath me. I was so preoccupied with my own depravity that I had not noticed Sarah raise her skirts.

"Now mine." I suddenly felt something entirely different in the room. It was as though an energy all its own had surrounded us. As I lowered my hand to her, she pushed it away. "Directly, my girl." Was she really suggesting that I lick her, there? At first, I was not certain I could do it. Each time I thought I could kneel before her, something prevented me. Perhaps it was the last shred of morality that still existed somewhere inside me, but at last I relented. My mouth was inches from her, and I could smell her arousal, mixed with my own. I leaned in twice before she helped me, placing her hand on the back of my head and giving me the incentive to proceed.

Pleasantly, she was shaved of all her hair, the shortest of stubble grazing my lips as my tongue traced the surface of her. The act was so incredibly different that I barely knew what I was doing. I thought of what might feel good to me and acted on that knowledge alone. That small button of flesh that I often found with my fingers, felt very different against my tongue. "Slowly, girl." Gasping, she held me at bay for a moment. I knew that I would often end on that spot, so I laid my tongue deep between her folds, allowing her own juice to flood my mouth. It tasted very different from mine, but intoxicating in its own way. Her gyrating hips and wanton moans guided me in my ministrations. Soon I was nearly suffocating within her, and as she reached her climax, I knew not to stop. Seeing stars about me, I knew that my lack of breath was soon to steal my consciousness, so I eased away. Struggling to catch my breath, I sat back on my heels as our eyes met.