Page 29 of The Taking of House Westwood

“How’s she been working today, Escott?” The Lady slid from her saddle, unbuttoning the top two buttons of her jacket. “Arnaud tells me you’re actually seeing some progress with her.”

Escott nodded, looking upon his harnessed charge with fondness. “She has her good and bad days, Mistress.” He held up the flexible paddle. “But this makes sure she gets her quota done.”

Arnaud nodded, clearly approving of the farmhand’s methods. Tani swallowed, her head hanging.

The Lady looked over at Sophie with a glint in her eye. “Amazing the results one gets from such … encouragement.”

Sophie firmed her jaw. She wouldn’t make things easy for the sadistic noble. Prisoner or not, Sophie still had her dignity. For now.

The Lady strolled over to Tani, raising her chin with the shaft of the crop. “Does she perform satisfactorily in other ways as well, hmm?”

Escott flicked a glance up at Arnaud. “Mistress — I’m not sure—”

“Oh come now, man,” the Lady said, stroking the crop across Tani’s breasts, stirring the little bells clamped to the nipples. “I know you don’t spend that long in her stall simply to feed her.”

Escott dropped his gaze, flushing. “No, Mistress.”

“Well then,” the Lady said, smiling at the farmhand. “How so? Does she fuck well? Is she obedient?”

“She found it difficult in the stables at first,” Escott said, his hand caressing Tani’s shoulder. “But she adjusted soon enough.”

The Lady tapped the shaft of her crop under a harnessed breast. “Quite a bit more enjoyable stabling this one than one of the horses, eh Escott?”

Arnaud’s laugh rumbled, and the farmhand smiled. Tani whimpered, shifting her weight, her hands twisting in her cuffs.

“Shh now,” the Lady said, stroking the upper slopes of Tani’s breasts. “Don’t fuss, girl. I’m sure your Escott takes very good care of you doesn’t he?”

Sophie could see the deep blush suffusing the bound woman’s face even as she lowered her head, nodding.

“There is one thing, Mistress,” Escott said, his expression turning serious. “We could use more help.”

“Oh?” The Lady walked around to the rear of Tani, looking down.

Sophie hated the Lady being behind her; it almost always resulted in pain. “Yes, we — well — with only one of her, it just takes too long to plow. The oxen are three times faster, and pull a stouter blade.”

The Lady glanced over Tani’s shoulder at Sophie. “Well, when Lord Westwood returns after harvest, we’ll be visiting my friend Farrier. His man Lucien trains women of this sort.” The Lady reached around chucking Tani under a breast, sending the globe bouncing. Tani hung her head lower, but stayed very still.

“Mistress, if you’d like to bring … another.” Escott licked his bottom lip. “Then we could make much better time. More than double the quota Tani manages.”

Lady Westwood leaned in close, her lips nearly brushing Tani’s ear. “What do you say to that my bound beauty? You may speak.”

“If it pleases you, Mistress.”

Sophie was surprised at the soft, but rich voice.

The Lady planted a gentle kiss on Tani’s moist cheek. “It does, Tani, it most certainly does.”

Arnaud cleared his throat. “With two, we could have them plow your gardens rather than having it done by the farmhands. Would free them up to help with the harvest.”

The Lady nodded, glancing down once more. “Escott, you seem to have been rather free with the paddle here.” She crouched, and Tani flinched as the Lady’s fingers felt the welts. “This big bottom is rather well-cooked.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Escott said, shrugging. “Sometimes it’s the only thing that works.”

The Lady stood once more, and moved back around Tani. She tucked the crop under her arm, peeling off her riding gloves. “Turn Tani. Stop there.” The woman now faced away from the group and Sophie suppressed a gasp.

The woman had a strong, trim back, cinched cruelly by the broad leather girth around her midsection. Her hindquarters were very well muscled, but still retained soft feminine curves. The bottom half of both cheeks were furnace red, overlaid with darker welts in places. She could see a rivulet of sweat break from the bottom of the girth to meander down a welted cheek. She wondered if it stung the sorely tested flesh. She felt a sudden urge to run her hand over those broad buttocks, soothing the scorched skin.

What was happening to her! She shook her head and looked away.

---