The Fall of Lady Westwood by Trent Evans Read Free Book Online

within the rigid confinement. The bars crossed the bottom of the cage too, and one could see that they must have galled the smooth planes of the girl’s shins terribly.
    Even in this closely crouched position with the girl’s bosom pressed to her thighs, Sandra could see that the captive nude was possessed of full breasts; their soft, pale curves bulged invitingly out to either side, contrasting with the delicate pattern of the girl’s rib cage.
    The girl’s arms were bent behind her, reaching up and around one of the bars crossing the top of the cage, the delicate wrists clasped in metal cuffs. Sandra could see that the girl wasn’t entirely naked either, though what she did have on hardly afforded any protection from the gaze of the two noblewomen.
    The cuffs were clipped to a fine, silver linked chain stretched taut to a ring embedded in the back of a broad belt. This belt clasped her lower waist, stretching round to pass just above the dimples of her bottom. The black leather was tight, the flesh bulging slightly both above and below, and made the swell of the girl’s voluptuous bottom even more pronounced.
    Sandra thought she knew with some fair certainty why this particular girl was subject to the attentions of her friend Lady Westwood. The majestic raven-haired mistress of Westwood Manor was well known among her wide circle of friends for her feverish penchant for well-fleshed lasses, especially those blessed (or cursed) with a big, round bottom. She knew Miriam would make the girl wish she’d never been blessed with such bountiful buttocks.
    “Ah, those shoulders must be a trifle uncomfortable by now, Miriam,” the Countess said, turning her head to her friend. “How about having her out for a spot? Just to get a look at what you’re working with”
    “She has a lot longer to look forward to in there, but I suppose there won’t be any harm in having her out for a little tea-time stretch,” Miriam said, winking at her friend. “She’ll no doubt be grateful for it.”
    The willowy mistress gazed at the prostrate servant a moment longer; a fingernail leisurely drawing a light furrow into the skin of one of the girl’s buttocks. Miriam fished a necklace out of her deep cleavage, from which (much to the delight of the Countess) hung a tiny golden key. She opened the small lock at the hasp, carefully tucking the key back between her breasts.
    After unwinding the rope of the girl’s hair from the crossbar, Miriam unclasped the chain from the ring at the back of the girl’s belt, letting the chain slide down to the floor of the cage. She then pulled the girl’s arms straight up behind her. This allowed her to swing the heavy top of the cage up on groaning hinges. As the girl’s hair fell to one side of her back, the dark leather of two straps could be seen emerging from around the front of the girl’s face. The straps diverged, one reaching around the base of the skull along the hairline, the other snaking higher up the back of the skull, submerged in her thick hair.
    With a hand clasped firmly to one of the girl’s upper arms, the olive color of her hand clashing with the creamy whiteness of the prisoner’s flesh, Lady Westwood helped the girl straighten. The fingers of Miriam’s other hand lightly played about the crimson tips of the plump breasts as the girl stood, her movement halting, and stepped out of the cage. The Lady used another key to pop open the metal cuffs, hanging them on one of the cage’s bars.
    The girl immediately started to whimper and twist, her knees rubbing together, toes wiggling, rubbing the abraded skin of her wrists. Her soulful green eyes were near to overflowing with tears, the lips pulled back in a rictus by a thick black rubber-coated bit clenched between white teeth. A bit of saliva could be seen at the corners of her mouth, as well as at the lowest part of her bottom lip. Straps crossed her cheeks tightly from either end of the bit to wrap around the back of her