s7e8 - Lady Elizabeth Westinghouse (38)

We open with an aerial shot of a fantastic stately home, surrounded by green countryside and trees. The building is three stories tall, very square, with hundreds of windows – historic, beautiful, grand.

Then we’re inside, cutting from one shot to another that highlight the antiques, the paintings on the wall, the furniture.

Then we’re outside, watching as a beat-up transit van makes its way along the lone gravel driveway from the large gated entrance to the front of the home.

Back inside, we are in a grand hall, and closing in on a very elegant, classy-looking slim lady. Her long brunette hair is loose but swept back over her shoulders, untied but it looks almost as if it has been trained to stay in place. Her face is light on make-up, narrow, and delicate. Her clothing stylish but professional – a jacket and skirt combination, with a fitted white blouse that suggests she has a rather good figure.

Once we are up close to her, she speaks. Scottish, but highly educated to the point that there are only a few words that give any hint of where she’s from.

“Hello ... I’m Lady Elizabeth Westinghouse. I’m the eldest child of the Duke of Eilean Siar, and I’m afraid I’m a little bit of a pervert.” Her tone suggests she may have had a brandy or two before we began filming.

She neglects to mention her age, but it doesn’t matter – she’s 38, but she barely looks a day over 28 ... The benefit of never having to work a day in her life.

We cut outside again, watching as the rear doors of the transit are opened, and a wide steel ramp is pulled out to allow the occupant to walk to the ground rather than jump.

Back to our guest. “Of course, everyone knows that the aristocracy is full of perverts ... It’s something that one’s never supposed to admit, or even discuss ... But I could tell you tales from my family history that would shock even your most obsessed viewers.”

Back to the van, as a large pig waddles down the steel ramp and is encouraged to head up the steps to the huge front doors of Argyle House.

Back to our guest, relaxed and demure despite her subject matter. “There’s an awful lot of tosh talked about the need to protect our own. To be quite frank, I’m tired of it. My uncle is a child molester, I know, because I was one of the children he molested. Mummy and Daddy used to go to swinging parties with Prince [BLEEP] and [BLEEP], my brother is so gay that they wouldn’t even let him join father’s regiment – but still pretends to be a happily married man. Good lord, I’ve had sex with his wife more than he has!”

Back to that huge pig, waddling along a long gallery within the home. Trotters clicking on the polished floor, getting dangerously close to bumping into little tables with old vases and clocks resting on them. Snorting and grunting as he explores this strange new world.

Back to Lady Westinghouse as the butler enters the room and coughs, then announces, “Lady Elizabeth, your guest is waiting in the drawing room.”

Elizabeth takes a sharp breath, conceals a little smile, and then looks up to camera, “Shall we retire to the drawing room for a spot of afternoon delight?”

She stands up and straightens her clothes out. Very elegant and neat – class by birth and education.

“If you’d like to follow me...” Then she sets off, her heels clicking on the polished floors as she walks past our cameras at a fair pace – we spin round to watch her go, neat little arse barely moving from side-to-side in her tight skirt, very professional rather than sexual.

Back to our pig, trotting around in another large and very ornate room. Portraits of the entire Westinghouse family line stare from the walls into the middle of the room, right at the new arrived, fat, pink, beasty.

Then back to Lady Westinghouse as she makes her way through down a long corridor, ornate windows on one side, large paintings on the other. We have one camera tracking infront of her, another following behind to capture views of her tidy little arse.

She describes their surroundings and tells her life story as she walks, waving her hands around in the direction of various paintings. We also intercut images of the various historical figures she names, as well as a map of Scotland to show Eilean Siar, way up in the Outer Hebrides islands off the north west coast of the country.

“The Dukedom of Eilean Siar was created in 1596, when King James wanted to reward his close friend – that’s gay lover - Robert Westinghouse. James’ wife, Queen Anne, was apparently none too keen to have Robert so close, and insisted on his lands being as far away as possible ... Hence, the Outer Hebrides ... Dear Anne wasn’t the brightest girl in the world though, so wasn’t even vaguely aware that whilst his title may have been out in the middle of nowhere, the Westinghouse estate was built barely an hour’s travel away from the royal palace in Edinburgh.”

She turns to look right into camera. “She’s not the first lady to have been screwed over by the Duke of Eilean Siar ... It’s something of a family tradition. As is perversion.”

She points up at a painting of a very grand looking lady and a magnificent stallion. Very formal.

“This is Duchess Catherine, dated around the 1880s. It’s strongly rumoured that she was closer to her horse than her husband, if you know what I mean...” She rolls her eyes. “I do enjoy horse riding, but I’m not sure I’d enjoy being ridden by a horse... ! I’ve seen them, they’re huge...”

And she sets off walking toward the double doors at the end of the room again.

“The family is notorious within upper circles for our depravities ... According to historians Robert West, who became Robert Westinghouse, wasn’t even gay – he just went that way to be close to the king, and once he had his land and title, he abandoned the king ... When you consider that the family came from that background, it’s hardly surprising that we would be somewhat sexually opportunist...”

“A member of the household staff recently walked in on my brother and his boyfriend as they were ‘entertaining’ one of the family dogs ... My father had to pay quite a large sum to stop her going to the tabloids...”

She maintains a cool exterior, but we can feel the anger burning inside. “Despite this, father has deemed that he will still pass his title onto my brother in accordance with tradition, rather than myself – as his older, and better educated, and more suitable, child ... So I’m here to smash tradition and ruin the bally family name once and for all. They can pretend that we haven’t got a history perverse sexual practices, including bestiality, but with your help they’ll never be able to deny my love for pigs!”

She pulls one of the two large doors open and steps through into the drawing room.

In here she is face-to-face with Winston for the first time – and this is the closest we see her getting to out-of-her-depth, just taken aback for half a second as she catches her breath.

“My ... What an amazing beast...” She gasps.

She’s a good fifteen feet away from him, and he is just looking at her- looking at the open doors as much as he’s looking at her, not sure what to make of her arrival – is he supposed to go through those doors, or is she the reason he’s here... ?

She immediately begins to remove her clothes. The jacket draped over the back of an armchair...

She continues commenting as she undresses. “Father has pigs in the grounds, and I’ve always been aroused by them ... But they aren’t like this chap ... He’s twice their size. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect beast!”

As she speaks, she unbuttons her skirt at the hip and allows it to slip down to the floor where she’s standing.

She continues to talk as she unbuttons the front of her blouse, slowly revealing a slim body and small but nicely formed boobs in a classy lace bra. “I’ve often thought about daddy’s hunting dogs, or one of the horses ... Or about heading down to the piggery itself and sampling some of our stock ... I never got around to it because, I suspect, that with everyone else in the family being so perverted, I was determined to be different – to prove myself better than them.”

She pulls the blouse off her arms and is left standing in a matching white bra and panty set, plus those stockings and her nice shoes.

Reaching behind her back to unhook her bra, she continues, “Well, I suppose I am better than them ... No sordid romps in the dark for me ... National television and world-wide exposure!”

She smiles, partly at what she’s said, and partly because she’s showing her boobs off on television. They are small but firm, not quite large enough or close enough to give any worthwhile cleavage, but very pleasant none-the-less.

Winston takes a couple of steps toward her now – noting how pink she is – without clothes he knows that she is one of those things he is allowed to fuck.

“He seems keen to get acquainted...” She says as she peels her panties down her thighs – the gusset sticking to her pussy lips as she pulls them down, clearly quite wet.

And now she’s walking over toward him – moving much slower than she did when walking from room to room, making a point of going one foot infront of the other, almost crossing her long legs on every step, a deliberately sexy, short stride ... He watches her as she approaches, moving his head around a little as he continues to try and figure out where he is.

When she reaches him, she bends forward and puts a hand out to stroke his head, fingers dancing down the side of his ear and onto her face, tickling/scratching. He pushes sideways toward the touch, twisting his head around, clearly loving it. She’s a natural!

She moves her hand back over his head and down his neck, looking back at our camera and commenting that, “He’s very rough ... And quite warm...”

After a couple of seconds of stroking she drops down into a crouch next to the pink monster, her back to us so that even though her knees are apart we can’t see her pussy.

The camera on the other side of the pig can see her face, but not much of her body because the fat beast is in the way. Seeing her this close, her attractive and delicate features next to the animal, is very agreeable.

She continues to stroke his rough skin and short bristly hairs, leaning toward us and looking into camera as she presses her little boobs up against his side. Moving around a little to rub them against him. Making a point of raising one eyebrow to camera, letting us know that she’s in complete control.

“He feels very rough ... So beastly ... Very very beastly...” She says, her accent far too clean and high class for someone doing this.

She stretches the moment out, enjoying the dirty feeling of his bristles against her breasts ... Her head back a little and her letting out a little sigh, the corners of her mouth curving up into a little smile.

Meanwhile, Winston is still looking around the room as if he just can’t figure out exactly what he’s doing here. Grunting and stumbling forward a little.

“I think he’s getting a little impatient...” She says, with that toffee smooth voice, looking back into the camera and raising that eyebrow again. “Well, who am I to keep a piggy wiggy waiting?” She knows she’s so far above this – her sense of superiority drips from every word ... But that doesn’t stop her from turning to the side and dropping to her knees, then leaning forward onto her hands and knees beside the ugly beast.

Winston continues to stumble forward for a second or two before realising that the woman is now on the floor, in position – then he turns, a slow, awkward turning circle, until he is behind her, dropping his snout down to her backside, snorting ... Dropping his nose further, between her slim thighs – to her pussy, still snorting. Elizabeth remains remarkably still throughout – like she doesn’t have any fear at all about this fat animal being so close to her sexual quarter ... Looking back over her shoulder at him with a look on her face that suggests she’s still in total control despite him almost as big as her.