Anke can do anything with brass and steam, springs and gears. What she can’t do is cross the lines of class and propriety that keep her from declaring her love for her patron, the beautiful Lady Phoebe. Lady Phoebe has long been entertained – and stimulated—by the dancing dolls Anke has made for her, but now she must marry for the sake of duty and family. She has one last commission for Anke—to build a doll that can love her as much as Anke does. (F/F)
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Anke dropped the wrench on the table and sighed. “My lady, is there anything I could make for you that would satisfy you? When I made you that rocking-horse that really galloped, you wanted a carousel the week after. When I made you that remote-controlled zeppelin, you wanted me to make a larger one with a basket on it so that you could ride in it. And now that I’ve given you dolls to play with, you want me to make them human.”
Lady Phoebe covered her mouth with her hands. “Anke, I didn’t mean it like that!” Her face fell, and she bowed her head. “I’m sorry, I really am. The dolls are perfect, and they are exactly what I asked for. You have satisfied every request I’ve made of you. I’m sorry I can’t be satisfied, Anke, it’s terrible of me, but I can’t help it.”
“Then what do you want?” Anke begged. “Lady, all I want to do is give you what you want. Just tell me.”
Lady Phoebe sniffled. “I don’t know! Something that will satisfy the desire, really and truly satisfy it. I’m going mad, Anke.” Her face was flushed, and Anke’s mind wandered to the thought of Lady Phoebe’s arousal. Perhaps, under her bodice, her corset and chemise, Lady Phoebe’s pink nipples were stiff and aching for the touch of a soft tongue or a firm pinch. Perhaps her cunt was beginning to moisten, was already wet and dripping, soaking her linen bloomers through—the wet fabric rubbing against Lady Phoebe’s engorged clitoris, sensitive and needing touch…
Anke caught herself and bowed stiffly. “I will have something for you within the week, my lady.”
“Oh, thank you!” Lady Phoebe threw her arms around Anke. Anke stiffened at the sudden warmth of Lady Phoebe’s body against hers, the soft and welcome press of her friend’s breasts, the heat that radiated from the space between her thighs. She put her arms around Lady Phoebe’s back hesitantly, embracing her. “Anke,” murmured Lady Phoebe, her lips soft against Anke’s neck, “I am certain your ingenuity will save me.”