“Sybilla! Sybilla, come here!”
The door opened and in she walked. I loved the way her house dress curved up at the front, lined with lace, hinting at her knees and what may lay beyond. Some may have thought she looked like a bob-tail or hedge whore, but she had on a pair of house boots that made sure she wasn’t indecently exposing her ankles.
“What is it, Clarence?”
“I think I’ve completed it, dear.”
She clasped her hands together in excitement, “Ooh you did it? That’s wonderful! What is it?”
“Oh, just a little place to sit.”
“A steam-powered saddle?” Sybilla asked, looking quite confused.
“Well, it is really just for lady-folk, though…” I scribbled a few notes in my pad.
“So how does it work?”
“The lady sits here,” I said, patting my invention. “Then it is turned on and well, it might be best if I show you.”
I opened the hatch at the back and pulled out the small engine which included the firebox and water reservoir. I topped up the water and started the fire going before I added a little coal. A few minutes later a small whistle let me know that the water was starting to boil, I released the brake and let the flywheel spin for a second before putting the engine back under the saddle.
“Come here, dear,” I said to Sybilla
Without getting up, I slid my hands over her boots and up the outside of her legs, under her dress, stroking her linen stockings slowly.
“You know, if this invention sells well, we will be able to afford some silk stockings for you.”
I felt her shiver a little under my hands. To ensure her modesty, Sybilla made sure to wear short breeches, which were laced at the front. When my hands reached the bottom of her hips, I started to move them toward the centre of her womanhood. A quick tug released the tie and I slipped her breeches over her hips and let them drop to the floor.
Next were her bloomers; these had a dainty pink ribbon weaved through the top hem which was easily undone, allowing me to drop these around her ankles. Last to join the growing pile were her knickers.
“Do I need to remove my dress?” she asked.
I lifted the front and leant forward and kissed her furry quim and as I did so, dragged a finger around her bite and along her furrow. Feeling how wet she already was, I teased a little more and was tempted to fill her alley, but my inventor side kept me in check.
“No, my sweet, this will do just fine.”
One by one, I lifted her feet and finished removing her undergarments, making sure to fold them neatly before putting them to one side. Then I stood up and took Sybilla’s hand, and lifting it to my lips, I gave it a delicate kiss.
“Please take a seat, my love.”
Sybilla looked at the saddle and then back at me, then said, “I can’t. The pommel is wrong, I need a side-saddle one.”
“Let us be scandalous, just for the test,” I whispered, conspiratorially. “Sit astride it.”
She giggled and stepped over the saddle, and I helped her sit down. Just before she was all the way down, I lifted the front of her dress and lay it over the pommel. Sybilla gave a little squeak as she came into contact.
“Perhaps you should have made the seat without the brass plate.”
I scribbled a couple more notes.
“I might be able to direct some of the water around a pipe under it to warm it a little. Slide forward,” I instructed.
“Ready?” Sybilla nodded.
I moved behind her and scribbled some more notes.
“I think it might be better with the controls at the front so I do not have to lift your dress and petticoats. But the callipygian view is extremely pleasant indeed.” Sybilla always giggled at my adoration of her body.
“Oh, golly!” she exclaimed when I engaged the flywheel.
The wheel was like a gear sprocket, only the teeth were more rounded. When engaged the teeth ran along the underside of the brass plate. The plate was also slightly corrugated and the resulting action sent vibrations through the machine. The vibrations were mostly damped down by the leather seat, causing them to focus more within the brass plate.
While testing this before Sybilla’s first ride, I noticed that the pommel had a little vibration in it. By having Sybilla sit as far forward as she could, it meant that her pleasure pivot was pushed against the pommel and would be tickled by the vibrations there, causing a second assault on her senses.
By the time I had untangled myself, Sybilla was gripping the front of the saddle. I made a note to add a handle or two at the front.
Later she explained how the vibrations through the brass plate had surprised her as they tickled her cunny, sending shivers through her love tunnel all the way to her womb. She also felt the pommel pressing and working through her front right up to and through her quim.
“Oh, sweet Clarence, this is marvellous.”
I still had a hand on the controls and pulled the valve wide open.
I noticed her shift back a little, so placed my hand against the bottom of her back and pushed her forward again. I could feel her shaking and the vibrations from the machine. She was panting hard already.
“Bless my soul!”
Sybilla told me how the extra speed and frequency of vibrations, when the flywheel was set to full power, were indescribable. It felt as though her whole body was alive with little tingles running through her like we had spoken about after making love outside in a thunderstorm. When I pushed her forward, it pushed her to the edge and nothing at that point could have stopped her climaxing.
I saw her knees pulling in tight against the sides of the saddle, and her knuckles turned white on one hand where she gripped it. Sybilla reached out to me, grasping my shoulder, and her nails dug through my tunic. Her jaw was set and her eyes closed, and then the shaking started. It seemed to come from her middle and work its way to the ends of her arms and legs, and I could feel her fingers cutting into me. It gave me an idea for some kind of steam-powered saw.
“Off, off!” Sybilla cried.
I quickly helped her to stand and then picked her up and carried her to the chaise lounge. I returned and released the valve controlling the power then withdrew the firebox and put it on the grate. With the machine safe, I turned back to Sybilla. I pulled a stool alongside her and sat holding her hand and stroking her hair. She looked up at me with a gentle and very happy smile on her face.
“Was it good?”
“By Jove, as I live and breathe, that was the most intense time I have had. Remember when Clara visited that time and we tipped the velvet?”
“Yes, you said she was better even than me.”
“Well, my darling, you have moved back into the lead. Well, you and your machine have. I think I would need ten or more Claras to match that. Actually, we must invite her to come and try it.” She stroked my hand. “I’ll tell her you need to be there to operate it.
“Is that the final model or are you open to suggestions? Because I think it would be good if you could fit a second pommel in the middle of the brass. Have you thought who might buy it or what to call it?”
“I thought married soldiers might be customers. You know, to keep their wife happy when they are at war. As for a name, I was thinking of Ladies Saddle or perhaps I could name it after you, my beautiful wife and test rider. Would you mind if I called it the Sybilla’s Ladies Saddle?”
Victorian slang used:
Bob-tail – lady of lower morals
Hedge whore – cheap itinerant prostitute
Quim – a lady’s pubic region, specifically when it is unshaven
Bite – vagina
Furrow – vulva vestibule (the area between the inner labia)
Pleasure pivot – clitoris
Callipygian – having shapely buttocks
Tipping the velvet – cunnilingus
Thanks to cbears52 for proofreading
Thank you to the moderators helping me getting this published
And thank you to everyone that reads, comments and/or votes.
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All characters involved in sexual activities are at least 16 years old. No association with people, businesses or organisations, living, dead or undead is claimed.
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