The Stallion (29 page)

Chain tugging at her collar, her breasts, bottom and sex exposed, Penny followed Nadine, but raised her hands to cover her breasts as Dominic’s car drew in behind them.

‘Uncover yourself, girl,’ barked Alistair. ‘Nadine!’ he added, turning on his sister as though she had been careless. Sudden panic registered on Nadine’s face before her usual self-control returned.

‘Hands on hips, my little filly!’ Nadine exclaimed, and Penny wondered just for a moment why she was suddenly a ‘filly’ instead of the usual ‘pretty pussy’. In confirmation, she felt the sting of a light riding whip across her bottom and was vaguely aware that Nadine had been wearing it at her waist. She yelped with surprise though the heat of the stroke was taken by the night breeze. But she obeyed and rested her hands on her hips. Now, what with her careful steps and her hands on her hips, she knew she was swaggering provocatively, her bottom
swaying
and her breasts pointing steadfastly forward, nipples raised deliciously by the night air. The night, she told herself, belonged to her no matter what might happen. And what a beautiful night it was. Crisp scents of pine, wild flowers and earthy fern acted as a natural aphrodisiac to her inborn sensuality. Silver moonlight gave sharp outlines to the nodding pines and to the figures and objects around her. It added grandeur to what was plain; magnificence to what was ordinary.

‘Take your dress off,’ ordered Alistair.

She hesitated, her hands hovering over her breasts and her eyes flitting between the handsome, steadfastly staring Dominic and the powerful presence of Alistair.

‘Off, pretty pussy.’ Nadine’s hands on one side, Reggie’s on the other and her dress was around her ankles, her skin translucent in the moonlight. She leant her bottom against a tree as they pulled the dress off over her feet; the roughness of the trunk scratched her soft cheeks.

Her hands hung by her sides, her fingers folding into her palms. Not wishing to ascertain her fate in their eyes, she stared down at the length of her long red boots.

She thought of Nadine not being pleased about Clarissa and Auberon; about Gregory and her. What was it she had said? You have to be broken, like a colt or a filly. Earlier, back there when they had got out of the car, she had called her a filly.

A pleasant thought came to her head and filled her with excitement. Tonight could be it. Tonight she might very well have Alistair. It had to be. If it wasn’t tonight, then the time was not far off. Triumph was in sight.

‘Let’s walk.’ Again, Alistair had taken control. Tonight, he was like a Roman emperor in charge of the games. Nadine, if her attitude and attire were anything to go by, was the ringmaster, the intermediary between those who entertained and him who was to be entertained.

The path through the trees was firm at first, then softer as high trees hid the moonlight. The ground gave slightly under her heels, and wisps of long grass tickled her thighs.

Under cover of darkness, unseen hands caressed her body as she walked. Even without the hands, the experience of walking naked except for a pair of high leather boots through a woodland in the night air caused havoc to her senses. Half with the sensation of fresh air over her skin, and half with the experience of walking naked among others still clothed, Penny’s nipples thrust forward expectantly, and that familiar sweet ache arose between her legs. Whatever they might expect of her, she expected much of herself. Soon, her arousal would be undeniable. Her flesh quivered, and honey dew seeped from her sex and spread like silver threads through the darkness of her pubic bush.

The trees at last gave way to a circular clearing where the moon bathed the grass with its crystal glow.

Penny, her breasts rising with her breath, made a strong effort to focus her eyes as Nadine tugged her forward. The impression that she was entering an arena was very strong, and stronger when she espied what looked like fences around its perimeter. None of the fences were more than three feet high, low enough for a pony or even a human. And that, she realised, was what they were for. Not an equine jumper, but a human one.

‘Very nice spot you’ve got here, Alistair old buddy,’ she heard Dominic say. ‘Nice fences. Cute little filly.’

‘Here we go, my pretty pussy,’ said a familiar voice. ‘Here’s your big chance.’ The words were hushed.

The men had formed a half-circle in front of her, whilst Nadine placed something over Penny’s head. She started, realising it was a bridle that had been fashioned for a human head. In case of protest – of which she gave no sign – Dominic’s strong
hands
grabbed Penny’s and held them behind her as Nadine strapped the bridle over her head and pushed the metal bit between her teeth. The bridle had blinkers attached to it. She could only look straight ahead.

Dominic kissed her ear. ‘Steady girl. You’ll be all the better for this. All the better.’

She calmed, remembering that the sort of words he was using were not dissimilar to those she used on her own horses when she had broken them in to the showjumping ring. Anyway, just the closeness of Dominic was a kind of tranquilliser. He smelt good; the richness of cloth and his maleness combined to form a natural aphrodisiac.

Her hands were bound and fastened high behind her back, then clipped to the velvet-covered rhinestone collar which was still around her neck.

The coldness of the bit was hard upon her tongue. The blinkers had ties hanging from them in case they wished to blindfold her. These were left untied. Thankfully, she could still see most of what was going on, though she was incredibly constrained, restricted by a harness more usually used on horses.

More leather with a chain hanging down the front was fastened over her shoulders, fashioned like the outline of a normal bra but having no cups. Her breasts were pushed up and forward by its circling of leather. She gasped as it was tightened beneath her breasts so that they were held obscenely high. She gasped again as the shoulder-straps were adjusted so her breasts looked rounder and thrust out even more. She watched as Nadine’s supple fingers teased at her nipples, then pulled them out so they were obscenely dominant, darkly pink in the light of the moon. The chain which hung from each shoulder was left dangling. Then Nadine brought it up before Penny’s eyes.

‘See?’ she said with delight, her usual cheroot stuck in the corner of her mouth. ‘Nipple clamps.’

Penny saw. They appeared to be made of brass, like the chain. Nadine opened and closed the clamps in her fingers. They were reminiscent of bulldog clips used to grip paper together. She winced as they gripped her nipples, her cry of anguish lost in the coldness of the bit that lay so heavy on her tongue.

Something else was clipped on to the collar that encircled her neck. She couldn’t see what. His eyes shining almost with reverence, she saw Gregory hand Dominic the lunging whip and knew immediately what was expected of her. In Dominic’s other hand, he held the end of the lead rein that had been clipped to her collar. She would be urged to circle him, persuaded with the aid of the lunging whip. Her stomach tightened against itself and shivers of apprehension sent goose bumps over her skin.

‘Walk on.’ The voice was Dominic’s. He stood about twelve feet away from her in the middle of the ring, a usual distance when lunging a green horse in a practice ring over jumps. The lunge whip easily reached, thick at the end where it was held in the hand and tapering to extreme thinness at the other. Its thin end tapped gently against her buttocks. It stung, and she held her breath. She walked where he directed, about ten feet in front of the first obstacle. There was no way of knowing where everyone else was, the blinkers shielded her side-view and prevented her seeing them. She could only look straight ahead and fasten her eyes upon the job in hand; the jump that came up to meet her. Now she knew how her horses felt.

‘Trot.’ The fine thread of the whip end laced enticingly over her behind and a cry of surprise caught in her throat. Her breasts jiggled, held tight as they were in their casing of leather.

She sprang over the first obstacle on command, the tail end of the whip assisting her concentration as it spread again over her buttocks. She stumbled a little on landing, but righted
herself,
glad that the boots she was wearing had such a good grip.

‘Higher this time,’ cried Dominic. The sting of the whip was more intense. She’d received a reprimand, and although a fine film of sweat broke out over her skin, her flesh tingled in welcome. Strangely enough, she had a pride in what she was doing, what she had achieved. She, too, could jump with or without the whip, though the whip did add a certain piquancy to the achievement.

Another fence was cleared, a higher one. This time, she made no mistake, but knew it would not matter. She tensed the cheeks of her behind waiting for the inevitable, welcoming the warmth and the admiration of her compatriots with each succeeding sting on her flesh. This time, the whip stung more, but her cry was lost in the rush of air, her tongue trapped beneath the bit. Three more jumps were all cleared, yet all were accompanied by the stinging of the whip.

How red her bottom must be by now. It was warm. That, at least, she
could
feel. Would its pinkness be easily seen in the whiteness of moonlight? Probably it would. That was really, she decided, what they were applauding, what they were admiring. Not her skill on jumping the fences, but the increasing response of her creamy flesh to the stinging rebuke of the lunging whip. She was rising to the whip as though she were throwing it off and tossing its torture aside. Applause greeted her clearing of the last jump. Hands patted her red rump, as much to feel its heat as for congratulation.

‘Now. Shall we try her on drive?’ Murmurs of agreement greeted Dominic’s suggestion. Penny tensed, her breasts starting to rise and fall more swiftly. Did they really mean what she thought they meant? To drive a horse meant to break him to harness. For that they would need a cart or chariot. But there was nothing here. Only the jumps.

‘It’s folded up back in Dom’s car. Can someone come and fetch it with me?’ It was Nadine who ordered Gregory to accompany her.

Penny heard them return a few minutes later.

‘Cover her eyes. Saves her worrying about the new harness.’ Alistair said that. It seemed to be him who wanted her blindfolded. Initial panic was overridden by curiosity. How would it feel to be driven at his command, to be his beast of burden, his creature in harness? The closing of the blinkers over her eyes was all part of it. He was denying her knowledge, taking all as his enjoyment alone. And Nadine, as usual, was in charge of it all. It was her long, cool fingers that tied the blinkers together above Penny’s nose. A leather belt was fastened around Penny’s waist. She felt another piece dangling from it at the front, then hands pulling it through her legs.

‘Open your legs, pretty pussy. Let’s see what we’ve got.’

Penny obliged, aware that, despite her leather restraints, her sex was moist from the excesses of her own imagination. Her breath was sharp as some protrusion on the leather was pushed into her vagina. It felt solid and roughly the size of a medium erection. Despite crying out, she took it in. The leather thong continued to be pulled through her legs.

‘Bend over, pussy-cat.’

A large heavy hand on her head – it could only be male – forced her head down so her rear was up. She was highly aware of the intruder in her sex, so much so that she wriggled against it, all else forgotten.

‘A little oil I think.’ The voice was Reggie’s and brought her back to reality. She felt the fatness of his finger rubbing oil around her anus, diving in to lubricate her more fully. She groaned as he did it, her knees bending as he pushed it in, her head pushing against the hand that held her steady.

She gasped, her head firmly held as the cheeks of her bottom
were
divided, the leather brought up and another protrusion – smaller than the one she enjoyed in her vagina – pushed into her rear orifice. It might not have been quite as big as the other, but it was bigger than the finger that had oiled that same hole. Once both protrusions were firmly embedded in her body, then the leather strap was buckled tightly into the belt that circled her waist, her head was released and she could straighten up.

Penny groaned, and her breasts rose and fell with her quickened breathing. She could see nothing, but imagined what she looked like from the feeling her constraints gave her.

The strap that ran from her leather belt divided the fleshy lips of her sex. The muscles of her open sex and invaded anus constricted against the imitation cocks. The cheeks of her bottom were separated, made more rounded by the leather thong, which she guessed was strapped tightly into the belt around her waist.

Because she could not see what they had done, her senses were heightened. Juice flowed freely around the dildos, and against the back of her thighs. She was intrigued by the light touch of something wispy, like hair or feathers. The breeze blew it against her skin. With a blush that seemed to run from her head to her toes, she realised that the appendage that invaded her anus had a tail of long hair attached to it. To all intents and purposes, she was a mare, a mare to be broken.

There was movement at each side of the leather belt. She knew that the shafts of some small cart had been attached, and she moved slightly, feeling the rolling of wheels and the pull of something behind her – something that was attached to her.

‘Keep still.’ She judged the voice to be Dominic’s again, and sucked through her teeth as he tapped across her belly with the whip.

‘She looks a treat. Don’t you think so, dear brother?’ purred the dark voice of Nadine.

‘So far, so good,’ Penny heard him reply in a rasping way that seemed almost to crack his throat apart. He sounded entirely absorbed in what was going on; as though he were falling down a pothole and was thoroughly enjoying the experience. ‘Depends on how she makes out, of course. Once Dominic’s up in the driver’s seat, lead her on blind. Get her used to the cart going behind her.’

This was crazy and sublime all at the same time. Here she was allowing herself to be led blindfolded and naked around this impromptu ring in the middle of the woods, harnessed like a horse to some small chariot where a driver sat, reins and whip in hand.