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Labelled a nymphomaniac because of her passion, Lillianne Draper is forced to spend her days restrained. She has managed to banish the nefarious Dr Samms, who has watched her constantly, only to begin to question the motives of her scullery maid, Celeste. Charged with the task of monitoring her mistress’s illness, Celeste seems to enjoy her new responsibility a little too much. Lillianne must try and control her body’s responses or her husband will order the return of the doctor who tormented her. But being left ...
Labelled a nymphomaniac because of her passion, Lillianne Draper is forced to spend her days restrained. She has managed to banish the nefarious Dr Samms, who has watched her constantly, only to begin to question the motives of her scullery maid, Celeste. Charged with the task of monitoring her mistress’s illness, Celeste seems to enjoy her new responsibility a little too much. Lillianne must try and control her body’s responses or her husband will order the return of the doctor who tormented her. But being left every day at the mercy of Celeste is arousing desires in Lilly she didn’t know she had.
Lillianne awoke with the now-familiar aching throb between her legs.
Oh! It seemed there was never a moment’s respite.
The air of the master bedroom was cool, almost cold, and she hunkered down under the bedclothes and savoured the warmth they held. She was alone. Blessedly alone.
In the soft, warm confines of her bed her hand sought the ache at her centre and cupped it, pressed down on it, tried to assuage it. It felt like that, like a comfort, at first.
Of course, the more she kneaded and pressed it, the more the ache grew, like a fire being slowly stoked. She pressed the covers to her mouth to stifle a groan and rocked herself back and forth in anguish. She shouldn’t. She knew she shouldn’t. Because of Dr Samms and his diagnosis of her nymphomania, the terrible affliction that threatened to destroy her sanity and her life, she was constantly monitored. Who knew when someone could come in? James. Celeste. Her darling Ewan who’d arisen from their marital bed but ten minutes earlier. But the ache persisted, and once she’d started touching she felt powerless to stop.
It felt so good. Ah, God, so good to have pressure there. Her body needed it. Craved it. And it wasn’t really so bad, was it, to just hold herself there? That was really all it was. But after a few moments more her mind flitted back. To thoughts. Oh, nasty thoughts. She shouldn’t be thinking them! Especially not in this way! But they were insidious little things, those perverted thoughts about what her housemaid Celeste had done to her.
Celeste! Not only her housemaid but her confidante. Her best friend. What had the shy little blonde creature been thinking? What could have possessed her? But as the pressure and the pleasure mounted where Lilly held herself between her legs she couldn’t help but remember again how it felt to have Celeste do what she did.
It’s the affliction, Lilly thought. My affliction makes me think these things! It will drive me mad! But once the memories took hold they cemented themselves there. Celeste, shaving Lilly bare between her legs per the doctor’s orders while Lilly’s arms and legs were pinned and powerless, leaving her skin exposed and oh so sensitive. And then. Oh God …
Her housemaid put her mouth there.
Her tongue! Right on the burning centre of her need, the pounding pulse of what drove her madness. And the worst part, the absolute worst, was what Lilly scarcely allowed herself to acknowledge. That to have Celeste’s slick tongue licking and licking that tortured bud of flesh was the most exquisite bliss.
Out of her mind with lustful thoughts, Lilly parted her legs wantonly, all thoughts of propriety and repercussions gone. In her mind her finger was Celeste’s tongue on her again but this time – oh, this time it would finish what it started.
The first touch of her finger on the sensitive tip of her clitoris was like heaven. Lilly gasped out, her starved body grateful, hungry, and eager at the sensation of wonderful firm pressure directly on that place again, just like Celeste had done with her talented tongue. Giddy now, she slicked her finger up and down fast and hard, feeling the paroxysm build, not slowly like the evil doctor forced her to endure, but quickly like her body wanted.
‘Oh God!’ she cried, as her body bucked beneath her hand. Her eyes squeezed shut, she couldn’t help but imagine her sweet friend’s blonde head between her legs, moving and working, that tongue laving. ‘Yes! Yes! Please! I need it. Please, Celeste. Please!’ Lilly whispered her tortured pleadings into her bedclothes as she frigged herself hard.
Just as her body began to thrash over the edge of the most powerful paroxysm she’d ever endured, the bedroom door opened and then … Celeste was standing there.
But Lilly was too far gone. She couldn’t stop herself. While she gazed into the blonde’s blue-grey eyes her fingers continued to furiously stroke. As the first spasm wrenched through her body it was all the sweeter for staring into her friend’s face while it was happening. ‘Oh God, Celeste!’ she cried out, riding wave after wave of delirious pleasure.