Lady Cecelia Ch. 03 Pt. 03

Lacking any of her own; Lydia's courage lay in the protectorate of her Lady Cecelia's strength. There Lydia stood and trembled unable to raise plea or protest. Lydia's first fears of realization witnessing her Lady coerced, compromised and seduced had compromised Lydia's inexperienced feminine sensibilities.

She could not hide from the baseness of it and witnessed wide-eyed forbidden illicit lust. Amid tears of confusion the stark images before her were threatening, wronging her stare as if somehow she herself could be seized and dragged into an ungodly lesbian fire that was unfolding on Cecelia's slab of torture: Lady Yvette's table.

Weak as poor Lydia was and left to divisive fears that same simplicity of character transformed those images even as she shrank from the seduction before her eyes. Royalty had been her master since birth. None but the pageantry and beauty of court had been her experience. She served constantly in the presence of beauty where all was staged ceremoniously carefully with pomp and orchestration. Women of the court had forever been her guide and sustenance: her very reason for serving as she did. Royal Ladies of the court upheld a beauty to be admired created through handmaiden's assistances resulting in glorious adoration among all who laid eyes upon them.

Yet accompanying Cecelia to this chamber to be entrusted with its innermost intrigues, her Lady had solidified a new bond. Witness to submission, Lydia became parcel to its accomplishment. Her Lady had discovered contentment in her special predicament. So then by her ties to Cecelia; did she. Within Lydia's heart came the soaring realization that because of her silence she had been enabler and confidant in this tryst.

Everything before her eyes served to heighten and direct her heart towards sensuality. As a dawn would break upon an ocean, among those shadows of flickering candle and firelight, a thrill began to seep through Lydia she would not escape. She as handmaiden to one of the most beautiful Ladies of the English Court gazed at the erotic banquet before her. To but cross both arms and hold herself sent feelings through her. To put her hands to her own flushed cheeks was proof enough. To feel her quickening pulse and sense her own breath shallow in undeniable gulps riveted Lydia to occupation of voyeur.

She had watched as Cecelia put the crystal of green liquid to her lips, sure the elixir was French poison evil-prepared, yet saw Lady Yvette drink that same potion! Lydia had watched a certain 'sense' come over them both and witnessed the flurry

of attention brought to them at the hands of a worldly handmaiden...this Marie, this sinful and arrogant Marie who took the clothes from her Lady's back lifting her most private of undergarments greedily from pale shoulders shamelessly.

Lady Yvette eyes surveying Lady Cecelia as would the leopard on the lamb and directing her girl to strip away all decency of dress herself with no shame or care whatsoever! Then advancing her nakedness godless pale phantom that she was and surrounding her Lady in a moment when sure her Cecelia would strike a blow across the Frenchwoman's face: there came a kiss! A mouth borne kiss never witnessed ever in her life this certain way between women given and accepted by, dear god, her willful Lady never!

Hence forward Lydia's emotions swam like a kettle of leaves in the maelstrom, settling never and blown to confusion confounded by one vision after another at the tableau before her.

Lydia watched this maid, Marie, take hands between her lady's forced open legs and witnessed her fondle, caress then press them within and her lady move to this maid as if on a bower swing, to have her whitest fairest bosom clutched in feminine French hands plied as would bovine to yield the fruits of Cecelia's pleasure.

Lydia, despairing yet astounded by her patron Lady's offering of nipples pointing to those French lips willingly! Each revelation caused Lydia loss of sensibility and filled her thoughts fresh with what was once sin no more: thriving in her blossoming senses.

How quickly her Lady had rushed to the table prepared for her! How this once adversarial wench of a girl became Cecelia's cradle of tenderness! Such it was that Marie had fallen upon her Lady's parted legs while on her knees as if it were worship to be performed!

Legs which lifted in slow kicks to the heavens in pointing toes as to make the angelic girl's face find its home between them quickly. Indeed Lydia knew wetness abounded for Cecelia's shimmered in the candlelight; an unmistakable flows seeping with shameful anticipation. She watched dumbfounded the manner in which Marie became part of her supporting armfuls of legs and the hands searching in blindness for the endowment of Cecelia's chest. Lydia knew in her most secret of experiences those breasts were easily the envy of both Frenchwomen for none was as fair as her Lady.

Yvette had spoken.

"My rights over you are seigniorial ...." she proudly spoke her demand, "more complete than those of your arrogant knight who supposedly rules your heart. He will one day serve witness to what will be: your woman's heart yearning and your admissive words desiring subjugation at my hand."

As a sapling would, Yvette's lithe form swayed carefully above Cecelia's face. An up- tilted chin reached to satisfy the requirements of homage the Frenchwoman had demanded. Never suspecting what that demand required of her earlier, Cecelia threw herself into its intricacies by performing, as Yvette's slowly twisting body revealed, the Frenchwoman's every passionate expectation.

Below; Marie's lips never left the womanhood from which she'd wrung its first orgasm that caused Cecelia to be a much more willing student. A tongue laid across that which had so recently shuddered to surprising orgasm expertly drew itself up and down the length of her opening leaving Cecelia with no other desire than to mimic its stroke on the pinkness pressed to her own face. She found the ring of which Yvette had spoken with her tongue. Cecelia made it bounce as it danced with every flick swirling its wet silvery band against the bloom of Yvette's clitoris. Cecelia tongued deliberately.

Lydia, petrified in erotic confusion, witnessed Cecelia embraced by both women wrap her arms to this newest torment in a sweet embrace meant to lock the Frenchwoman to her. Cecelia moved her hips to the building return of Maries attentions below.

Lydia's eyes saw Yvette's careless confidence tremble and like said sapling, this Lady of the French Court began to collapse forward on straightened arms barely holding herself from falling to Cecelia's torso. A new expression crossed her beautifully foreign features: a transfixion of pleasure.

Cecelia's tongue stroked and danced unabated driven on by her own arousal. Yvette's hips swept forward and gently back rhythmically. The ring disappeared chin buried in the hue of fire strawberry curls only to reappear revealing the shimmering band piercing a fattened clitoris teased to its fullest blossom and disappear as Yvette undulated her womanhood onto Cecelia's mouth.

Yvette's words came urgently demanding Marie move. She didn't.

For Marie; she had the Englishwoman where she wanted her again mounting a bridge she'd created so diligently, so patiently that Marie would easily wring from her a second glorious orgasm if only there could be a few moments more. Enticed by the prospect, Marie ignored her Lady's demand and continued a tongue-stroke onto the top, underside, right and left of Cecelia's straining clitoris devoting herself to her work unabated.

Yvette fairly screamed her handmaiden move immediately. The words had their effect and Marie fell back as if struck. Never had Marie seen her protector more maddened with lust for as soon as she came away Yvette's mouth fell to the raven haired beauty's proffered womanhood as if possessed. Heads disappeared, arms grappled with the other's legs. A twin litany of groans that needed no language to understand were muffled voices amid the liquid slippery sounds created only at lusts banquet and these filled the candlelit air of the room.

At this moment Cecelia's trusted Lady Lydia found the eyes of Yvette's handmaiden turn to find her standing frozen against tapestried wall as a tiger's would on its hunted. Ignoring the blind passion of the two women behind Marie stood and come towards her.

"Aimez-vous ce que vous voyez, ma fille?" The girl was on her immediately.

"Oh dear God, no!." came Lydia's desperate whisper.