The Stallion (26 page)

As the whip landed, he burst through Penny’s sphincter and parted her tightly gripping muscles.

She cried out. Nadine laughed, and Clarissa gasped.

‘Pull her on to you,’ Nadine said.

Gregory must have hesitated, or perhaps it was that Nadine didn’t need any excuse to crease his skin yet again with the whip or crop which whispered menacingly as it cut through the air.

‘Let me do it!’ cried Clarissa suddenly. ‘Let me whip him. I’m good at that, really I am!’

She heard Nadine laugh and felt Gregory tense against her as he pushed his prick through her tightness. His cry broke in unison with hers, but did not satisfy Clarissa.

Penny bit her lip as lash after lash sang through the air and landed on Gregory’s behind. She cried out herself as the whip purposefully graced her own thighs, then slumped against the silky hassock when at last Gregory pumped his release and cried out one last and savage yell against her ear.

Penny was dragged from under Gregory before the light came on.

Outside in the corridor of thick carpets and vivid paintings, Nadine wrapped the chain tightly around her fists and pulled her close. ‘No come for you, my pretty pussy. Not tonight. Just you wait. The main event will be something you’ll never forget. But not tonight.’

Nadine did not allow her to dress, and the room she took her to – although round and obviously in a turret – was not her own. Terracotta walls were matched by dark and heavy silks that swept from the central point of the ceiling and ended in thick fringes around the tops of the circular walls.

There was a bed in the room of large proportions, with head-and footboards of wrought iron interspersed with gilt leaves. It was heaped with cushions covered in the same richly dark material as that draped from the ceiling.

Anticipation of what might be in store caused the leaden feeling in Penny’s guts to intensify. It was further encouraged by the dull burn in her taken behind.

Nadine gagged her mouth and fastened the wristbands that she’d placed on Penny in the other room to the collar she still wore round her neck.

‘Lie down on the floor at the side of the bed,’ Nadine demanded.

Curious to know what was in store for her, and hoping it might alleviate the need in her loins, Penny did as ordered.

Once she was laid down, Nadine bound her ankles together with a pair of cuffs.

‘Bend your knees,’ she was ordered.

Penny obeyed. Her ankles were forced up behind her. A long chain ran from them, through her buttocks and up her back, and were also fastened to the collar around her neck.

Lying there, securely trussed and gagged, Penny noticed that the wrought ironwork of the head- and footboard was repeated along the side of the bed. To her surprise, Nadine lifted it and secured it with a hook to the headboard. First with her hands, and then with the toe of her boot, she pushed Penny beneath the bed. Once there, Nadine replaced the ironwork. Naked, gagged and bound, she was now beneath the bed. And yet it was not a bed. Not for her. For Penny, no matter about the sprinkling of gilt leaves that decorated the wrought iron, it was to all intents and purposes a cage.

Nadine was on all fours and laughing as she viewed her through the sweeping curls and curves of the ornamental ironwork. She poked her fingers through the ironwork, and wiggled them. She made faces like people do at the zoo. Penny felt like a trapped animal – naked, bound and mute.

‘No sex for you tonight, my pretty pussy,’ said Nadine with a laugh. ‘From your little cage you will hear that beautiful angel, Gregory, groan as he inserts his prick into that little bore Clarissa’s wet hole. You’ll hear her cry out in ecstasy when his hands caress her bosom, and when he repeats with her what he did to you back there, when he fills her smallest hole with his throbbing muscle. Won’t that be thrilling for you? Won’t that be just delightful?’

Penny opened her eyes wide and mumbled her response. But that was all it was. Just a mumble.

Nadine tutted and laughed.

‘Poor little creature. Pretty pussy,’ she said, reaching her hand through the ironwork and tangling her fingernail in the clutch of hair which protruded so proudly from Penny’s helpless mons now her legs were bound behind her back. ‘I shall think of you lying here, neatly packaged, listening to everything they do, everything they say and not being able to do anything about it. How sweet for me. How dire for you.’

Nadine kicked the ironwork and laughed again before she left the room.

How long it was before she heard the door reopen, Penny couldn’t be sure. A low light was switched on. Clarissa’s voice was easily recognisable, that of Gregory seemed more obscure. Yet it shouldn’t be. Wasn’t his voice the most sweet she’d ever come across and the most outstanding, rich as dark brandy?

Warm words and wet kisses preceded the dipping of the mattress as the two bodies entwined above her. In her mind’s eye, she imagined what they were doing and felt jealous. How hard Gregory’s body would be against that of Clarissa. How soft her buttocks were, before his member divided them and nudged like a wary predator into her waiting hole. Yet, to Penny’s surprise, Clarissa did not cry out.

Only once they had finished did she hear them speak more clearly.

‘You gave nothing away?’ said the male voice.

‘Nothing, my darling. Nothing at all.’

‘Did you enjoy beating Gregory?’

‘It was very good, though not as good as with you, and I have to admit, I did rather enjoy seeing Penny have her bottom divided by his prick. Nadine fastened her pretty tightly whilst he did it, just like you do a mare when the stallion’s about to take her. I liked that.’

Surprised and suddenly aware that the man above her with
Clarissa
was not Gregory, Penny sucked in her breath and listened some more. She recognised that voice, though beneath the blurred barrier of the mattress, she couldn’t quite decide who exactly it was. Yet she would. She was sure she would.

Her breathing settled as theirs settled and they slept. Three times further she was awakened by their resumed sexual Olympics during the night, the springs dipping and diving above her head together with the swish of a whip and the cries of an anguished and bound man.

It was an odd feeling, almost as though she were part of their action, yet no more than a residual part, a left-over thing whose attendance was not necessary to their enjoyment.

The day had been long and the night seemed too short: as short as the naps she managed to grab between the up and down movements of the bed.

Clarissa and the man rose at dawn and they talked about rolling in a wet meadow and him having his buttocks thoroughly chastised with a bundle of fresh young nettles.

During their absence, Nadine released her.

With aching limbs and a lessening desire in her loins, Penny made her way back to her own bed to snatch what bit of the night was left. She slept, and although the trifling niggle in her sex reminded her that it still had not received its just desserts, she curled her fingers into her palms and saved it until the time and the man were right. Gregory or Alistair. One thing she was sure of was that the man in bed with Clarissa had not been Gregory
or
Alistair.

11

FOR WET WEATHER
, three indoor arenas were available for practice, and outside three more. Those indoors had a base of ground bark and wood chippings. The others outside had sparkling green grass and were surrounded by a barrier of tall poplars whose leaves rustled lazily in the warm breeze. This latter arena was the one Penny was using now.

Consistent practice and unyielding concentration on Penny’s part had combined to result in clear rounds for both the chestnut and the grey. Penny was pleased with her performance, and her body had cooled once Nadine had suggested she remove her cotton top and take the jumps bare-breasted.

The idea had amused and pleased her. She had to admit, the rush of air cooling her sweating flesh was very welcome. On top of that, the constant tapping of her bare breasts against her rib cage seemed to aid her timing. Nadine knew her job and could tell how to get the best from her charges.

Afterwards, Penny lingered with Gregory in the coolness of the stable as, in the absence of a stable-lad, he removed the tack from her rangy chestnut.

Her head was level with his shoulder as she stood beside him, aware of the masculine scent of his lightly sweating body as he reached both arms up to remove the saddle.

His muscles were obvious and inviting beneath the black of his T-shirt. Tentatively, almost as if they might melt before her very eyes, her fingertips lightly traced their hard peaks and moulded contours. As she did so, her tongue darted thirstily
over
her open lips. She moved closer to him and watched as the muscles in his neck tensed in response to the warmth of her breath.

He groaned as he let the saddle slide from the horse’s back and into his hands. He let it slide to the floor, then cupped her face in his hands and looked down into her eyes. In response, her body moved gently against his, her bare breasts prodding, lightly skimming his hard chest muscles.

‘You’re incorrigible,’ he said to her, and raised his eyes to heaven as if seeking help to avoid temptation. But there was nothing that could stop him falling or her catching him.

‘I’m in need,’ she whispered breathlessly against his ear.

‘In need of what?’ he responded into her hair.

‘Of you.’ Her hand slid down between their two bodies until it rested on the virile mound that pressed severely against the front of his faded blue jeans.

He moaned as though in pain and his breath rushed in a sudden torrent before he bent his head and kissed her. His lips were slightly salty on hers, his tongue firm and moist as it entered her mouth and met her own.

Maleness was hard, she thought to herself, and the smell of maleness was a strange mix of salt, of sweetness and the earthy aroma of a fertile field, of supple leather, of animal lust.

In unison and hand in hand, they left the stable and made their way to the most welcoming byre of all. The hay store was empty and heavy with the scent of sweet hay, and crisp yellow straw which rustled beneath their feet.

Just for a moment, she tensed and glanced apprehensively over her shoulder.

‘Nadine’s gone out,’ said Gregory, loath to desist from kissing her lips and tweaking her nipples, but aware of the cause of her sudden hesitation. ‘Once you’d finished jumping your round, she went off to town. Had arrangements to make, I heard
her
say to her brother. Something to do with some guy called Dominic.’

Penny sighed and shifted her hips. ‘You can never be sure with her. She seems to appear when you least expect her.’

Gregory grinned and ruffled her hair with one hand. Silently he nodded, a boyish understanding, upturning one side of his mouth higher than the other. ‘Up in the loft might be a good idea,’ he murmured against her ear.

‘There’s no need if Nadine is out.’

His hands caught hers, stopping their progress down over his body. In that moment, it occurred to her that she should tell him about Clarissa, her lover and her imprisonment beneath the bed. But he kissed her, and in the warm abandonment of rising desire, she let it go. She’d tell him later.

‘Change of scenery.’ He smiled as he said it. The colour of his eyes, the fairness of his hair and the tight muscles of his lean body were too much for her to resist.

‘Come on, then.’ She led the way, moaning with pleasure when his hands cupped the cheeks of her bottom as she ascended the stairs to the hayloft.

They took off their clothes. Silently they stood eyeing each detail of the body they would shortly join with. He filled his eyes with her firm breasts, belly and strong legs, the clutch of downy hair that burst like a patch of exotic moss between her thighs. She eyed his satin-bright hair, melting brown eyes, strong jaw and powerful neck. Around his navel, she saw his stomach muscles tighten, each contour individually outlined, shamelessly accentuating the jerking muscle that rose beneath them from a bright cluster of golden hair. Behind it, his testes hung like two ripe peaches. His penis reared in abject beauty, as golden and firm as the rest of him and beckoned her fingers, mouth and the damp warm portal between her thighs.

His gaze ran over her body before settling on her black
diamond
of pubic hair. With need flooding and hanging heavy from her labia, she shifted her legs slightly so her inner petals and its pert bud would peep from among the glistening curls.

He reached for the black band that held her hair and released it so it fell in a black cloud over her shoulders, breast and back. Then he lay her down, the darkness of her hair billowing out over the golden yellow of the straw. The straw scratched at her back, but was compensated by the pressure of his chest on hers, her breasts flattened by his weight and his passion.

She nuzzled his neck, revelling in his maleness, sliding her hands down his back so her fingernails could dig into the delicious hardness of his buttocks as they clenched to give his cock greater driving power.

He suckled at her breasts, his mouth and tongue drawing tantalising lines of sensation around the rich redness of her nipples and quivering flesh. His mouth moved further, his tongue flicking at her skin and dipping briefly into the hollow of her navel. When his teeth nipped at her pubic hair, she groaned and closed her eyes, raising her hips and opening her legs as his tongue darted furtively into her aching valley.

There was gentleness in the probing flesh, a sweet fragility as it flicked further, only the tip running from clitoris to vagina.

As her back arched, her hips rose more. His hands dived beneath her buttocks, clasping them tightly as he held her sex against his mouth. She moaned as his teeth nipped neatly at her mound, grinding her pubic hair as though it were crispy seaweed. He nibbled her outer lips before his tongue again flicked at her thrusting bud, then, like a small but sensitive penis, it entered her.

As if she were drowning in her own desire, her hips writhed in his hands. Just when she thought his actions would bring
her
to climax, he grasped her more tightly, his thumbs digging into her hipbones. He lifted her as though she had no weight at all, and turned her over on to her hands and knees.