Teena Thyme by Jennifer Jane Pope Read Free Book Online Page A

after two or three more tugs, I found I could let go with my left hand and nothing tried to slip down.
    'Excellent,' I said to myself. 'Could have been made for me.' Except it looked like the original owner had probably been a fair bit slimmer around the middle, for there was still quite a large gap between the two halves at the front. Unless...
    No, surely not? Of course not. There was no way I could lace the thing that tightly, not without risking terminal asphyxiation, anyway. However, I was game to go as far as was comfortable - relatively speaking, that is - so I renewed my assault on the laces, this time with both hands.
     
    The lacing frame was a quite simple construction, but it had been designed and built for strength and durability and the small wheels on its base made transporting it from room to room a simple matter, even for a slightly built female and Polly was certainly not that.
    As she pushed it into the bedroom, Angelina saw that it comprised a plain base, constructed from several lengths of planking braced together, from which, at either end, rose a tubular metal pole some seven or eight feet in height. Closer inspection showed that these poles were, in fact, each comprised of two sections, the upper of which telescoped into the lower, with corresponding holes in each, together with a locking pin, enabling the overall height of the horizontal bar which hung between the two uprights to be adjusted up and down.
    A few inches in from either end of this horizontal bar, which was perhaps five feet in length, dangled a leather cuff, both now hanging open and waiting, Angelina realised, for her wrists. Gamely, she managed to swing her legs out of bed and stood up, facing her would-be tormentors with as much dignity as she could muster.
    'That... that beastly medieval torture instrument will not be necessary,' she said stiffly. 'You may do with me as you will and I shall not struggle. As you say, I am but a slip of a girl, so to do so would be totally futile, I can see.' Meg paused, regarded Angelina steadily and for a few seconds it appeared that she might accede to this request, but then a look of sheer darkness clouded across her eyes and the smile that spread upon her face was sheer malice.
    'I think not, milady airs-and-graces,' she hissed. 'Whilst it would give me great delight to give you a sound hiding anyway, I think you will make a pretty sight squirming on this frame, so up you shall go and no further arguments. Now, will you remove that shift, or shall we tear it from you afterwards?'
    Angelina felt her stomach knotting into a tight fist, but she retained sufficient resolve not to grant the insolent maid yet another victory.
    'I am perfectly capable of removing my own garments,' she replied testily. She opened her mouth again, instinctively meaning to ask both maids to turn their backs, but just in the nick of time she realised that this would be a sign of weakness and just what the spiteful Meg, in particular, would be expecting. Instead, keeping her gaze all the while on the older maid, Angelina drew the shift off her shoulders and allowed it to slip down her body, stepping delicately out of its folds and confronting the women proudly, aware that already her nipples had hardened themselves into two small cones and had deepened in colour, so that they stood out starkly against the pale alabaster of her firm breasts.
    'See, Polly?' Meg said gleefully. 'Two unripe little apples. Her teats are nigh on as big as the rest of her titties. Why, if it weren't for that little cunny I see winking at us, I'd swear she was a boy in skirts.' Despite herself, Angelina felt her cheeks beginning to burn, but she refused so much as to blink and stepped slowly forward. At the side of the frame she paused and then, without further hesitation, stepped up onto the timber staging and held her arms out straight before her.
    'Come, then,' she said quietly to the two maids, who had momentarily, it seemed, been transfixed by