Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Amanda

1803 – Paris 

“Josephine trained you differently,” I said to Sandra.

She nodded her head.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“From the time I was nine, I was taught to pleasure women. That is why I exist. It is to please her, and to serve any woman she desires me to. It is all I am for, all I have ever been, and what I should always be.”

“Then why do you harbor such shame for what you are? If it is your destiny?”

“I was born in poverty to a drunkard father. I found myself in a girl’s home in New York, and the ladies there taught us to be good women. To be ladies, to be moral… all the things I can never be now.”

“So you regret it? Don’t you love only women?”

“Of course I do. I would rather die than suffer a man’s hand to touch me. But surely I could have found my way, couldn’t I?” She covered her mouth with her hand. “Forgive me, mistress. I spoke too familiarly.”

“Tsk,” I scolded. “You were doing so well. I thought you might call me by my name if I kept talking to you.”

“Mistress?”

“And now you’re lost in servitude again,” I said, disappointed. “Were it that I could order your shame away. That I could chase the feeling that you are unclean from your mind.”

“You do,” she said quietly. “When you take me, when we… I am never ashamed.”

“Is it the same with Josephine?”

“Well, she is more a mother than anything. I feel safe in her embrace, I hate myself for it, but that does not change the comfort.” Sandra tried to shake it away. “But mistress, please, must we speak of her?”

I wondered how deeply Sandra resented Josephine. As she spoke, her voice was tainted with poison. I wondered, was something emerging before me?

“Call me by my name and we will not speak of her again today.”

Sandra’s shoulders dropped and she lowered her head. “Mistress…” she whispered.

“Remember when I was tied to the bed? Left for days, brought to the brink of ecstasy, and then left unreleased? Had I asked for what I wanted on the first day, would I have been satisfied?”

“Yes, mistress. Did you not understand that she only wished for you to give your desires a voice?”

“You understand it then, don’t you? And yet it has no effect on you,” I explained carefully. “My name is the voice you can give your desires to change the subject.”

“It is not for me to…”

“Anything you want is yours, anything. Stop speaking like you are livestock. If you wish to be my lover, if you wish to remain in my home beyond the party that is fast approaching, then you must speak for yourself,” I lectured. “Or would you rather return to a mother who uses you as a pleasure tool? If that is it, I am happy to return you. I cannot say it’s the most awful fate you could meet.”

I slapped my hand on the table and it startled her attention toward me. “It pleases me,” I nearly shouted.

Sandra seemed shocked by my words. “Miss…” she struggled.

I thought I could hear my name upon her lips, begging to be freed.

“Miss, I love my mistress, but I want…”

“What do you want?” I demanded of her.

“I wish to stay.”

“Why?”

“Because I… I love you,” she answered.

“Now tell me, look me in the eye and tell me exactly what it is you want, or I’ll return you to your mistress the moment she arrives.”

“I… want to stay here… with you, with the one I love, Miss… Elizabeth.” She gasped at saying my name, and I was quite taken aback. I hadn’t expected it to be so simple.

“I feel as if I’ve just benefited from your skills with your tongue,” I laughed. “You took your first step. You have but three months to learn to fly now.”

I got up, held her face in my hands, and kissed her. “Tell me one more thing… why would it be that I’d let you stay, anyway?”

She almost looked stricken when I spoke, but I believe she was beginning to understand what I had just done.

“You love me…?” She seemed apologetic.

“Say it with confidence. Say it as if it’s the only way to make it true.”

“Because you love me.” She spoke with more spirit. Not nearly what I’d wanted but enough. Enough to see that perhaps the chick was making the first cracks in its shell.

“I’ve no wish to make you hate her. She is as she is. Josephine gave something to me that I cannot describe. I understand it more every day. And for all her hope to turn you into her pleasure slave, she has instilled the same in you. It’s there, under the servitude, under the shame. I know you have strength. How could you not to have lived so long with her?”

I left Sandra with that thought. I was beginning to fear I might be inspiring hate for her mistress, and that was not at all what I hoped for. In a way, I loved Josephine much as I did Catherine. They were both as mothers to me in their own right. Catherine had drawn me out from my shell, made me able to enjoy what I am. Josephine had taught me not to be ashamed, to live without any apology, and to speak for myself. There was more, much more, but if any lesson she taught followed me from my bed in to the light of day, it was confidence. A fearlessness about going after exactly what I wanted, and not looking back.

Days passed and Sandra said little. She had returned to sit at my feet. I allowed this to continue, only because from time to time she would speak up, she would speak as if she were my equal. She would take liberties. I believed that to nurture this, I must simply let it grow within her, in her own time. However, the looming anniversary continued to inspire a sense of emergency within me.

Sandra was progressing, though. I did not need for her to reach the fullness of who she could be, only to find within herself the courage to break the link with Josephine. I had worn a collar at the woman’s feet, a literal leash and collar, and she used these to control me. Without that, I could not as easily have been put through the ordeals I had been. I could have snatched the leash from her hand and left her as well. She did not hold any true power over me. The leash she had on Sandra, though, was much stronger. The hand that held it much more powerful.

The invitations had been long sent and the responses were coming in almost daily. This year, this time, I would have sixteen women at my party. Not the least important of whom being Catherine. Josephine was coming, of course, as were Eliza and Alice. Monique was a sure bet as was Annabelle. Twenty-two invitations had been sent; five had replied that they would not be able to attend. Penelope was on the list too. Precocious and spirited, I was very fond of her.

And another young woman, new to all of this. Virginia. She was nineteen, and I’d known her in passing since the first night my tavern had been opened. Over the past few months, though, I’d come to know her quite well.

Virginia had only just taken her vows to the church when she unexpectedly  became entangled in a passionate affair with a woman, the wife of a lawyer I was acquainted with through my own. Annette, Virginia’s lover, was careless and their affair soon was discovered, but not before they had come to know me and my tavern.

Annette was for all intents and purposes a prisoner of her husband. It was sad, as she had been known among the women of Paris. But there was nothing anyone could do for her.

I believe what I most loved about Virginia was that she still was a nun. How it was she managed to come to my tavern, my home, and how she managed to maintain any freedom whatsoever, was beyond guessing, but she would only smile and shrug if asked about it.

I’d prepared an invitation for Annette and given it to my lawyer with instructions to get it to her secretly, and not, under any circumstances, to let her husband know. I was certain she could not come, if indeed it was even possible for her to receive the invitation. For as much as I trusted my lawyer, and as much as he had always been honest with me, he could not risk his reputation or standing to deliver a secret letter to a lady not employing him and having no other business with him.

I did not ask him if had had delivered the invitation, nor did he tell me later when I saw him again. The truth was, if he could not or had not, I did not want to know, and if he had, then there was no expectation of a response. I had sent it mostly to let her know that she was not forgotten.

So, the few months dwindled to weeks and finally days. I was more nervous about whether or not Sandra would remain with me than I was about the party but I managed to keep my mind on what needed doing. I had drink and food, and obscene stories. I had guests from near and far, but what I did not have was a final night’s performance in mind. How it was that Catherine dreamt so many things up was beyond me. But a sensation would be expected, and I would oblige somehow even if it meant that I had to find a pair of sisters and pay them to put it on a show for us.

That was what finally gave me a notion of what I should do. Sisters, yes. Perhaps incest was a bit much to achieve, though it did not seem impossible in Paris. But another type of sister was common, and quite available to me. Virginia. I’d have preferred two nuns. After all, that would be twice the taboo, but one would be enough, especially If she wore her habit, something I’d never known her to do.

There were many churches in Paris, but only one convent within a reasonable distance of my tavern, a distance easily covered in time to be back in a single night. So I went there, hoping to find Virginia.

I knew little of convents. However I knew enough to know that one does not stride up to a door and knock. And if you did, what would you say? “Good day, Mother Superior, I’d like to speak with a sister…”

And that is where I’d be lost. Virginia had taken her vows. Her name was now Sister Mary something or another. She had no reason to share it with me, and I no reason to ask. That she was a nun was a secret. I did not know who all was privy to this but supposed the number was very small.

So I stood, quietly trying to think of what I might do. I was about to leave when I heard a voice call my name. I turned to find Virginia walking toward me holding several loaves of bread. I hurried toward her but resisted seeming too familiar. Fortune favors the brave, I suppose.

“Virginia —” I began.

She shook her head. “Sister Mary Michael,” she corrected.

“Of course, sister,” I said, then quietly asked, “You will come, yes?”

“Of course, my child,” she replied.

“Can we walk, sister?”

She nodded her head and we began walking along the street, trying to get away from any stray ears.

I was no Catholic, and remembered so little of the nuns’ teachings that I could not even recall how to properly cross myself. I was afraid I would say or do something that might bring suspicion upon her.

“Why are you here, Liz?” she asked.

“I have a terrible request to make of you,” I admitted. “On the last night of the party, I must have a show, a grand show, something obscene, something positively scandalous.”

“You think you can shock a nun? I hear priests talk about the confessions they hear. Worse, I live in a convent where the Mother Superior forbids the locking of the nuns’ and postulants’ cells. Have you any notion of what girls get up to when left to their own devices?”

I couldn’t help chuckling. Of course I had some idea. “Well, I should hope I might have a surprise or two left in me. Which is why I need to speak to you. I was wondering if you would come to my party in your habit, and perhaps allow me to make love to you as a spectacle.”

“Only Protestants would be surprised to see a nun involved in debauchery. Most of us are well behaved, but enough are not, and that is a dirty secret known by anyone who wants to know it.”

“Well I don’t know the religious leanings of each of the women I invited, but I have to suspect that it would still entertain them.”

“Liz, I’m a wicked, wicked girl,” Virginia laughed. “I will be found out some day and excommunicated, cast out on my own. But for now, being a nun protects me from marriage. I was born in poverty, so it is not as if I have any other way to avoid becoming the property of a man.”

She shrugged, then went on, “My order wears a blue habit. This is unique in Paris. If I do that for you, I expose myself to being discovered long before I am too old to bother with marrying.” She placed a hand on my arm. “I would love to do it, but I’m afraid I can’t.”

I nodded to her. “Of course, the risk is far too much for simple entertainment. Still, you are welcome all the same. I count you among my friends.”

She smiled and began to walk away, then stopped. “A different order once lived here. It wasn’t so very long ago. I doubt very much I could find one, but perhaps a habit may have been left behind somewhere. If one was, then you’ll have your show.”

“Oh, Virginia,” I said, “if the day ever comes when you are found out and expelled, my home will be open to you. I’ll employ you. If you have any skill in anything, I can give you work.”

We parted ways and I was able to get home before sunset. There I found Sandra helping Josette with last minute preparations. She wore her maid’s uniform. She was not a servant in my home, she was my lover, and seeing her like that troubled me.

“Sandra, when you’re done, please join me in the parlor.”

An hour passed before she stepped in and came to sit next to me. A bit of bravery, as she did not even hesitate. “Yes, miss,” she said.

“You’re not my maid, Sandra. Why are you in that uniform?”

“I know, miss… I didn’t want to soil one of my fine dresses, and I thought perhaps seeing me like this might excite you.”

I raised an eyebrow.

She grinned. “Isn’t it a common vice to bugger the help?”

I almost laughed out loud when she said that. “Have you been drinking, Sandra?”

“Drinking, miss? Oh… no. Only a glass of wine, and another glass. A snifter of brandy, and, oh, another glass of wine with lunch of course. But, no, I’ve not been drinking really.”

“No, not a drop at all,” I laughed. “Come along, girl. You’re groggy, I think.”

“But… but, Elizabeth…” She leaned against me. “What shall I tell the mistress when she arrives?”

“Ah, now I think I’m beginning to see things a little clearer.” I pulled her to my breast and stroked her back. “Have you decided what you will do?”

“I have decided what I want, but I don’t think I can say it.” She looked up at me. “If I go home with her, you’ll forget me. You’ll find a woman who’s good and decent and not at all tainted like me. “

“I don’t want a decent woman,” I told her. “And I don’t want a tainted woman.” I pressed my finger against her chest. “I want this woman.”

She nodded her head.

“Holding you here against your will would break my heart as surely as letting you go, Sandra. This is a choice you must make for your own reasons. But make certain that what you decide is decided only for your own reasons.”

“Is there no way for both of you to be happy?”

“There is none. But there’s surely a way for you to be happy, and be happy with the one you choose.” I held her close a moment longer. “Will you go back, or is this now your home?”

“I love my mistress. But I feel this is more a home to me than any place else I’ve ever lived. I wish to stay, Elizabeth.”

“I finally managed to get you to say my name, and perhaps someday I can get you to call me Liz like everyone else,” I chuckled. “So, you don’t know how to tell her then?”

“I can’t tell her, miss.”

Sandra had a pattern. In talking with me, she most often called me in recent weeks by my Christian name. But if she was afraid, or unsure, it was ‘miss’, and in the throes of passion, ‘my mistress.’ She was a work in progress, clearly, but she was making progress all the same.

“Tell her for me,” she begged. “Please, miss, if you truly love me, you can tell her.”

“Would she believe it from any other than your own lips?” I asked.

Sandra immediately shook her head.

“That’s why it must be you.”

I comforted her for a time until Josette came to tell me that the preparations were complete.

“Run along to bed, dear, and I’ll join you shortly,” I told Sandra. She nodded and hurried away.

When she was gone, I turned to Josette. “I must warn you, there will be a nun among us at the party. I thought you should know since you’re a Catholic.”

“In Paris we are all Catholic, madame.”

“Well, just the same.” I took her arm and we began walking toward my room.

“I am already damned by sins I dare not confess,” Josette said frankly.

I shrugged to myself. I supposed if I believed in such as sin or damnation any longer, I would harbor the same fears. But the nuns’ religious teachings had long been left behind me. They were discarded them somewhere in Philadelphia. Perhaps left under Maddy’s bed, forgotten and dusty, next to the spot where she kept her special bag, now my bag.

Over the years, I had gotten far more use from it and its contents than ever I got from the guilt and shame taught us by the nuns. But do not misunderstand. I harbor no ill will toward them. They are as much a part of what has made me as Maddy or Catherine or Josephine. I took all the best of what they gave me, and simply left the unnecessary bits behind.

And so, all too soon, it was the first day of my party. As the sun hung low in the sky, the first guests arrived. The bell rang and I happened to be in the hall when Josette answered the door to Annette.

“To what god do I owe thanks for this miracle?” I gasped as I hurried to meet her.

“Adultery, so Bacchus, I suppose.”

“Well, then, by all means, praise his name,” I laughed. “But how are you here, Annette? We all thought you a prisoner in your home.”

“I was. That is, until I happened to catch my dear and virtuous husband buggering his partner’s wife on his desk. I told him he could divorce me and that I would tell everyone why unless he gave me one-third of everything. Or, of course, he could turn a blind eye to my indiscretions and I would do the same for him. A third of his money is more than he is willing to part with, so I am free to do as I choose and he is free to seek the comforts of any woman desperate enough to lie on her back for him. He has a son. I gave him that a year after we married. So now, now I will not let him touch me, and he will not ask. I go where I please and so does he.”

“That is a miracle,” I exclaimed.

“Not really, because you see, I told her to do it. His partner is a toad, and while Henri may not be the smartest man or even a good lawyer, he is handsome. She was all too happy to be bedded by any man she could fit her legs around.”

I burst out laughing when she said this in such a matter of fact tone.

“Oh, but Annette, dear dear Annette how I have missed your frankness.”

“Well, you’ll get your fill now. I’ll be haunting your tavern as often as it is open.”

I was overjoyed to see her. She was not announced since she was the first guest and I had already seen her. But soon, very soon, more women began to arrive.

First Virginia was announced as she was led into the parlor. I greeted her, then quickly pushed her in front of Annette. Without hesitating, I told them my bedroom was at their disposal and they disappeared before I could say more.

“Mademoiselle Trudeau left this bag at the door,” Josette said as she entered the parlor. I took it, suspecting it contained her habit, or a habit of some description.

“I’ll put it away for her.”

Moments later, Monique arrived along with a young woman I did not know. She was introduced to me as Joan, a common name for women in Paris.

The full moon was high and shining brightly when Eliza, Alice, Catherine, and Josephine arrived together. I was elated to see them. I immediately set about trying to catch up with them on all that had happened since we last spoke. This was interrupted all too soon, though, by Madame Le Granade. I wanted to just sit and talk with my dear friends from the United States, but I was a hostess, so it was not to be.

I made my rounds, greeting each and every guest, and for those who’d brought another with them I learned the names, and made sure they learned mine. Glasses of wine were filled and drained, and before I had time to realize it, dinner was announced. I had to go to the dining room but I pulled Josette aside to ask her to inform Annette and Virginia that dinner was ready, but not to enter the bedroom when she did.

We were all long seated and had begun to eat when at last we were joined by the two stragglers I’d sent my maid to fetch. No one doubted why they were late, but no one bothered them about it either.

Sandra sat opposite me, as a wife. Catherine and Josephine shared the head of the table with me. Eliza and Alice were next, followed by the rest, in no order I had considered very carefully.

Seating arrangements were the worst part of any gathering. For many, just being present was enough, but there were always those who felt that they should have greater access or favor with the hostess, and since I was a woman of means and some power, there would inevitably be someone who took offense at being placed on the wrong side of the table or not near enough to the head. My solution was to put those most dear nearest to me for the first night, and then shuffle everyone about for each following night. This also allowed the women to mingle and get to know one another.

Continue on to Chapter 16