Page 17 of The Taking of House Westwood

Sandra pinched a nipple tight at the base, and ran a wet tongue over the tip, gazing up into the girl’s face. She worried one nipple and then the other between even, white teeth, sucking deep on each teat before letting it go with an audible pop.

The Countess glanced over at Miriam. “Do you have anything … else?”

“I thought you’d get into the swing of things,” Miriam said, laughing. “Let me see.”

The Lady moved to the dresser, a hand stroking Sophie’s hair as she passed.

“Unless she needs to go back into her cage, of course.” Sandra laved a stiff nipple with the flat of her tongue.

“Nonsense,” Miriam said, turning back toward them, a long steel darning needle in her hand. “We have all the time in the world. Cook won’t have supper ready for hours, and my husband is out inspecting the Frontier fortifications again.”

She handed the needle to Sandra. “Try this. Perfect for those impudent nipples.”

The tips of Sophie’s breasts had tightened to stony hardness in fear of what the Countess held in her slim fingers. The captive girl hissed, tense, as the Countess played the sharp tip back and forth over a nipple, a gentle prick here and there to the sensitive flesh.

The Lady Westwood sat on the bed behind Sophie. “Be very still, girl. We wouldn’t want you poked now, would we?” She peered over Sophie’s shoulder, winking at Sandra.

Sandra dragged the point of the needle down the vulnerable flesh of Sophie’s breast. She pinched the nipple in her fingers once more, lifting the heavy globe up by the sensitive tip. The needle was then held vertically from beneath. Sandra lowered the girl’s breast down until its weight rested fully on the needle, its sharp point deeply indenting the skin.

Sophie cried out at the sting.

“Oh hush, girl,” Miriam said. “It’s just a little stick. You’ll have worse than that in a few minutes.”

Sandra worried the girl’s breasts with the sharp instrument for several minutes, even commanding Sophie at one point to push her own nipple against the outstretched tip of the needle. After more threats from her unyielding Lady, Sophie finally complied, the tears streaming anew.

With a deft hand, Sandra managed to avoid puncturing the skin, but when she was finished, the captive’s breasts were crisscrossed with pink lines, the nipples inflamed at the harsh abrasions of the sharp needle. She laid a tender kiss on each tortured tip, then brushed her lips over Sophie’s mouth.

Sandra scooted her stool back. “Spread your legs, girl. I want to see what you’re hiding between those lovely thighs.”

The girl complied, but not fast enough for her demanding mistress. “Get them open, girl. Now.” Miriam’s brow furrowed, her eyes glittering.

“Please, Mistress,” Sophie murmured, her eyes brimming, her face blushing furiously.

“I said now, Sophie!” Miriam slapped the lush inner thigh, making the girl yelp. She spread much wider, a hand print blossoming on the creamy flesh of one of her inner thighs.

“Rather moist down here, I see.” Sandra winked at her friend. “At least part of your fair Sophie doesn’t object too much to her treatment.”

The Countess played her red-painted fingertips over the plump labia, tugging at the curls there. She grasped a hair and yanked at it, making Sophie whimper. It took a second pull before the hair gave way. The Countess twirled it in her fingers, turning it this way and that before her eyes.

“I usually shear the serving girls. Helps with hygiene,” Miriam said, patting the plump lips of Sophie’s sex with her palm. “But she has such fetching curls; I think I may let her keep them after all.”

Miriam’s long fingers pushed the prominent hood back, revealing the deep red clitoris to the candlelight.

“No, she’s not objecting at all,” Sandra murmured, touching the tip of it with a fingernail. Sophie jerked, but stayed in place. “What with this clit you’d think she was bringing herself off at all hours. Look how big and swollen it is, Miriam!”

“Isn’t it delightful?” Miriam flicked the stiff flesh back and forth with a finger and Sophie inhaled sharply. “When I first laid eyes on it, I couldn’t believe my good fortune. I shouldn’t be surprised though. Everything else on this girl —except perhaps her brain — is big. Why should her not-so-little button be any different?”

Both women giggled, their mirth lost on the crimson-faced Sophie. A tear gathered and dropped from one brimming eye, trailing down a burning cheek.

“Lucien told me that he has clients in the East, some beyond even the Frontier.”

Sandra’s eyes widened. “You mean —”

Miriam nodded. “Yes, even there. He says some of the clients in the East like to have the hood pruned back, to expose the clit fully.”

Sandra shivered at the warmth that bloomed between her thighs. Such cruelty! What was happening to her? She seemed to be open to deeper and deeper depravity the longer she stayed with her sadistic friend. Miriam looked up into Sophie’s brimming eyes. “How would that strike you, girl?”

“Oh please, please no Mistress,” Sophie whispered, shaking her head.

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