Page 18 of The Taking of House Westwood

Miriam lay her finger across Sophie’s lips. “What have we discussed about that word, girl?”

Sophie burst into fresh tears. “Not — to use it.”

“Ever,” Miriam said, steel in her voice. “You needn’t worry though. I don’t go in for such barbarity, Sophie. I like this cunt just as it is.”

She worried the tip of the girl’s clit with a sharp fingernail, and Sophie let go a pained grunt.

“Do be quiet, girl! Maybe we should have Sandra take hold of her needle once more?”

“I’ll be good, Mistress. Please.” Sophie’s face was awash in tears.

“I know you’ll try to be,” Miriam said, using a lace kerchief to dab at Sophie’s flooded cheeks. “But if not, we have ways of reminding you to obey, don’t we?”

Sophie nodded, her eyes wide and bright as she bit her lower lip. Her entire body was tense, the fear emanating from her in waves. It made Sandra want to see how well the unfortunate girl’s tongue had been trained.

Soon.

“Do they object to the practice, Miriam?” Sandra tried her best to banish the aroused quaver from her voice. “The women, I mean.”

Miriam chuckled, placing the back of a cool hand against Sophie’s displayed sex. “They don’t usually ask for their opinion, Sandra. It’s no different than the excision of the prepuce from males, really. The males certainly don’t complain about that, so any feminine protest is no doubt ignored. It’s not really for me, though. I like to keep their buds as sensitive as possible — but I can certainly understand the appeal.”

“I’d like to see it sometime,” Sandra said, plucking at the delicate petals of the girl’s inner labia. She pulled at them until she could spread them flat against the swollen outer lips.

“Well, next time we journey to see that scoundrel Farrier, you must accompany us. I believe my husband plans a sojourn there this fall before the snows come.” Miriam stroked her palm along Sophie’s silken inner thigh.

“That would be splendid — as long as I can avoid Lucien.” Sandra dipped a finger into the girl’s sex, then brought her glistening fingertip to her lips, licking the essence away. “Mm, very nice, indeed.”

“Fine isn’t it? She’s still a virgin, but her cunt slickens like a common whore’s. Remarkable, really.” Miriam turned to Sandra. “What’s your objection to Lucien?”

Sandra didn’t want to tell Miriam about her close encounter with the pony intake. Strangely, a part of her feared it might give her friend ideas. “I just find him an overbearing boor. Regards women as mere livestock. Feels as if he’s assessing your auction value, even as he’s speaking with you. Beastly man.”

Miriam smiled, a slim eyebrow raised. “I find him fascinating. So commanding, so stern. Seeing him put those girls through their paces is like nothing else in this world.”

Sandra didn’t miss the far off look in Miriam’s eyes, even as she continued her molesting of the captive girl. Shaking her head, Miriam stood and sat next to Sophie on the bed once more, her fine dress stretched between spread knees. She tweaked one of Sophie’s turgid brown nipples. “On the floor, girl.”

Sandra pushed her own stool back and stood, as the naked girl dropped to her knees, facing her Mistress, hands still clasped behind her head. She marveled at how well Miriam seemed to have trained the frightened girl.

Miriam gazed down at Sophie. “Now then, it’s time for a little relief. My bedroom smells like your cunt, girl. It’s time you took care of mine.”

The Lady eased the hem of her dress up and over her knees, exposing trim, olive toned thighs. She lifted a leg and propped her bare heel on the edge of the bed. Sandra couldn’t help but blush when Miriam looked up at her, grinning. Miriam laid two slim fingers on the neat slit revealed by her pose, spreading her labia apart to expose the tender, soaking flesh within.

Miriam’s sex was completely bare of curls, surprising Sandra. Bare pussies were typically the province of the slaves and serving girls at most noble houses.

“Sophie, here is a chance to fulfill your promise to be a good girl. I’d like you to put that tongue of yours right here.” Miriam tapped between her spread digits, the fingertip kissing the very center of her dripping pussy.

A choked sob came from the kneeling girl, and she dropped her head.

“I’m waiting, Sophie. Tongue in my pussy, or it’ll be the whip across yours.”

Sandra stroked the nape of Sophie’s neck as the girl began to weep. “Come now, it’s not so bad. Once you get the taste for it, you’ll love it. Be a good girl and take care of your Mistress.”

Miriam leaned forward, her finger wet with her own exudations, tipping up Sophie’s chin. “You have two choices: go back into your cage with a sore bottom and two angry Mistresses, or go back in your cage with a sore tongue and two pleased Mistresses. Which is it to be, girl? Don’t make me wait any longer.”

Miriam glanced up at Sandra, her lips curved in a half smile. Sandra stood behind the kneeling slave, and attempted to feign indifference or relaxation. Inside she was a riot of anticipation and wild lust. Her hands shook with the same pulse she could feel in her burning clit. She grasped both of Sophie’s wrists, bringing them to rest behind the girl’s back, and gently nudged her forward.

With the tiniest of hesitations the slave resisted, then gave in, allowing herself to be guided forward. “There you go, girl,” Sandra murmured. “Just obey now.”

Sandra’s eyes, glazed with lust, locked with Miriam’s. “See, she just needed some gentle guidance, Miriam.”

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