The Courtesan's Journal Ch. 7

What might surprise people to hear I allowed was the first and only male client I ever accepted. Now, of course, I did not let him touch me or make love to me since I was sure Eleanor would leave me in a rage if I did so. Besides, after fifteen years of making love to women, I had no inclinations to make love to a man. Or perhaps I did. It’s rather hard to say now. Natural curiosity is one thing, losing one’s lifelong partner for curiosity’s sake is quite another.

The doctor who sent me so many clients sent me a man once. I was loathed to explain that my practice was strictly for women, but it turned out the doctor was right after all. He was a young Chinese inventor who specialized in inventing machines for helping women who suffered from hysteria. At the time, orgasms were thought to reduce hysteria in women and I became his tester to ensure that his machines would reliably create orgasms. He assured me this was in the sake of science and even offered me the opportunity to wear a dress during the sessions. I wore what had become my standard uniform as a courtesan. The bodices of each dress were made in such a way that they could be pressed or folded down below my breasts to free them without removing the entire dress. The front of my skirts could be tied up on either side of my hips, displaying fully my feminine charms.

I would discretely go to his workshop where he paid me handsomely to allow his machines to bring me to orgasm; the most delightful were the machines that allowed you to lie in place while a phallus was thrust into you. Given my profession, I was often rather amused to lie there complacently, doing no work at all as I came. Many a lovely afternoon was spent lying on his leather benches and chairs, screaming in ecstasy as I drenched his wonderful machines. My favorite was a sort of thrusting saddle, in which you knelt with your knees on pads while it moved like a broncing horse beneath you sending the phallus deeper on each bronc type thrust. He made me my very own machine of this type, which I brought home and enjoyed many times. I even let a few of my favorite clients use the machine, although I was careful to suck and bite at their breasts during their usage, lest they think to replace me with a similar machine!

Because of his generosity, I was rather guilt ridden when he asked if he could become my lover, or at least, one of my clients. Before then, I had graciously allowed him to masturbate as I tested his machines, having suggested it myself after he had made several bizarre running trips to the water closet during our sessions to do so in private.

Allow me to take a moment to share one of my most delicious memories of this inventor. I remember the first time he masturbated in front of me. He had denied my request to stay instead of running off, and I decided to try my well-practiced seduction on him. I removed my clothes entirely, which shocked him. Instead of being thrust upon by his machine in a relaxed, supplicant state I instead was very active. I writhed on his cot, moaning, and repeatedly begging him to make it faster (which he refused) as I rubbed my clitoris to a shuddering orgasm. I even called his name during my orgasm.

Instead of waiting for the next round, I continued to masturbate, while he watched me thrust my fingers deep. I caressed, cupped and pinched my nipples while begging for more. For the first time, he set the phallus at the opening of my vagina before turning it on and this time to the faster speed I had begged for moments before. He even made sure to guide the phallus arm into my vagina, which I had been lifting my hips towards the entire time of the exchange as I caressed my breasts and pinched my nipples. I lifted my hips for each of the repeated thrusts of his wonderful machine and watched him the whole while through hooded eyes, gasping his name.

He finally removed his clothing and sat on a nearby chair, rubbing himself so violently I was sure he would damage himself. After watching him masturbate, I had a weak moment and almost considered having sex with him. As I’ve mentioned before, having never slept with a man, I was somewhat curious, but felt the dangers far outweighed the benefits. I explained that as a client, I couldn’t allow him to have sex with me (which was a lie, I allowed the most sexual of my women to pleasure me with the harness and phallus) although I could pleasure him with my toys. I went so far to gently explain that my personal sex, as opposed to courtesan sex, was strictly for Eleanor. This surprised him, as he did not at that point realize that I only slept with women.

Instead I found a compromise that suited us both, which involved him strapped to one of my tables as I thrust a thin phallus into his anus. We did this rarely, although as a special move I made sure that all subsequent trials on his machines included his masturbating to my extremely dynamic show of masturbating myself while his machines pleasured me so beautifully. I even insisted on many occasions that I have another go at a machine we had just tested, which surprised him greatly, since his habit was for me to test one machine once per session.

My mad inventor continued to enjoy our private sessions and our new testing regiment. He even created several most special gifts for both Eleanor and myself in return. I tend to think that he believed that since I wouldn’t have sex with him, the least he could do was being a part of my personal sex with the gift of these machines. All of which were machines that could pleasure both of us at the same time, as we faced each other in a variety of positions. Our favorite was one on which we sat as the machine thrust phalluses into our vaginas, vibration wands at our clitorises as we frenched kissed and caressed each other’s breasts. We invited him to watch our first time on this machine and despite Eleanor’s grave misgivings, I invited him to masturbate as we did so. Our combined cries of ecstasy were really rather musical, considering the three of us had very different voices.