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

head.
    “Pins and needles, dear,” Miriam said matter-of-factly in response to Sandra’s questioning look. “She’s been in there a bit, as you know,”
    The Lady made no attempt to comfort or assist the girl, merely content to observe her discomfort as circulation returned fully to her lower limbs. After a minute or two, when the girl’s wriggling had subsided, Miriam guided her over to the foot of the huge, richly appointed bed, and bade her sit upon the magenta duvet cover.
    “Don’t get too comfortable now, Sophie,” Miriam said, standing before the sitting girl, her arms crossed below the swell of her bosom. “Once the Countess has had her look at you, it’s back in your cage. You still have a lot to think about, and you aren’t getting out of your quiet time that easily.”
    “Yes, I see why you picked her, Miriam. Very nice, indeed.” Sandra pressed on the girl’s arms clutched protectively around her bosom. The bright pink bands of cuff-abraded skin on her wrists emphasized the pallor of her breasts. The Countess’ fingers moved up to trace the length of the bit, touching the girl’s soft rose lips.
    “Might we pop this out too, Miriam? These lips do look enchanting, and I can’t really see them pulled back so.”
    “Of course, my dear.” Miriam unclasped the buckles at the back of Sophie’s head. The bit loosened, and fell away trailing dark straps, landing with a wet slap on the girl’s pale thigh. The corners of the unfortunate girl’s mouth were inflamed, almost blood red. The straps left fading furrows crossing both cheeks. Both women watched a moment as Sophie worked her mouth and lips to try and return some sensation to the numbed flesh. The bit had apparently been just as galling as it looked.
    “Hands up, now. No, behind your head. You know better than to cover up,” Miriam said, her dark brows furrowed momentarily. The nude laced her fingers behind her head, widening her elbows at a barked command from the Lady.
    The girl was well built, even tending toward powerful. Strong shoulders contrasted against the slender muscles of her arms. The breasts were full, hanging heavily on her chest. The nearly smooth areolas were wide and brown, accented with prominent, dark nipples. The belly was soft, but smooth, the inky depth of her navel a pleasing counterpoint to the pale planes of her abdomen. There was the slightest curve to her belly down to the rather prominent curls adorning the pubis. Her hips flared wide from the narrow waist, and she looked as if she might have to watch her weight when she was further along in years. But now in the prime of her youth, her hips merely advertised her luscious femininity.
    Sandra glanced at Miriam. “May I?”
    “By all means; it’s what she’s here for,” Miriam said, smiling at her friend.
    Sandra ran a finger along the line of the girl’s biceps, tracing the smooth flesh to the underarm. She rubbed a few of the dark curls there between her fingers, looking at Miriam with a raised eyebrow.
    The Lady laughed softly, coming over to stand next to her friend again. “The peasant girls are all au naturel . I usually shear them when they come to my house to serve, but this one has such enchanting curls that I decided to keep them along with that thick thatch between her thighs. Their men are apparently quite taken by this natural growth. I’m starting to see the wisdom in their preferences.”
    “Oh I agree,” Sandra murmured. Though she was at first shocked at the curls, she could see the attraction. In a way, they made the girl seem more vulnerable, less in control of her own body. More of an animal. Enchanting indeed.
    Sandra tickled a fingertip through the hollows of Sophie’s collarbones, then ran a bejeweled finger through the girl’s cleavage, tasting the sweat from between the heavy breasts. Miriam brought over a stool padded in black leather for Sandra to sit upon, so that she might be more comfortable in her examination of the nude