Fresh Meat

Robin Keats stepped back from brushing Heather's coat in the shadowy interior of her stable. The new girl was standing at the back door in her riding outfit. She looked pensive; as if trying to decide if it was safe to leave the sanctuary of the house. Keats couldn't blame her. It hadn't been so many days before that he had witnessed Victoria's rough treatment of her for her interference with The Pig.

Keats' attention had been roused at the time by Janik rudely demanding Buster's presence, which could only mean one thing. Janik had carefully trained the farm dog to have his way with the creature they kept in the end stable. Keats knew that if he registered his protest, he would be out on the street, and at his age, new employment was unlikely.

Remaining in the shadows, Keats watched as the girl seemed to reach some decision and stepped out. She reluctantly strode to The Pig's stable, but instead of entering, simply leant on the gate, watching with a hopeless gaze.

Initially, Keats hadn't liked the girl, thinking her to be Mrs McCarthy's latest empty-headed toys captured to satisfy her unchecked carnal desires, but she had proved him wrong, shamed him even. She was an innocent, and he couldn't help feeling sorry that she had ended up in the clutches of his employer. Victoria hadn't always been that way; her decline had been gradual, but now he found himself questioning himself tacitly defending her, or 'turning a blind eye' as the girl had so aptly put it.

Setting the brush aside, Keats moved to join the girl who was moodily watching for signs of The Pig.

"She's still there, no worse off than she was," Keats informed her, his tone conciliatory.

"I wonder if that's what will happen to me in the end." The girl mused, sounding forlorn.

"It certainly looked like Mrs McCarthy got the better of you back there." She nodded in response but remained silent. "I haven't seen you for a few days. I was beginning to wonder if I would see you again, Snow White."

Surprised, Angie turned to him, her brown eyes betraying curiosity. "Snow White?"

Feeling faintly embarrassed, Keats replied, "because you seem the most innocent one here, The Pig included."

"I'm not innocent," she admitted before turning her gaze back into the straw-filled stable. "My friends call me 'Angie'."

"Do you have a family name?"

"Not any more," her voice was filled with resignation as if she had accepted some inevitable fate. "Please, call me 'Angie'."

Keats raised an eyebrow, strangely honoured. It seemed like the girl was carrying a heavy burden, and he felt compelled to help. "Why don't you come and say hello to Heather." He beckoned her to the next stable. Giving one last look into The Pig's enclosure, she followed. Heather was docile and obliging as usual and allowed the girl to pet her easily.

"You're still dressed for riding. Do you know how?" Keats asked watching the girl nervously stroke Heather's neck.

"I grew up in a city. This is pretty much the first time I've touched a real horse."

"Would you like to learn?" Keats asked mildly, realising that this was no overprivileged brat he was dealing with. She seemed surprised by the offer but nodded.

After some setup and orientation, they road out, Angie on Heather and Keats on Lucy. The two horses walked side-by-side, Heather following Lucy's lead. At first, the girl seemed terrified of falling off or of Heather inexplicably bolting. After a while, she began to relax and take in the view.

"It's beautiful here," Angie murmured, breaking the silence.

"There's nothing like this near where you're from?" Keats asked, not wanting to pry too much.

"Not that I got to see. There were bits of green, but you could always see houses, factories, busy roads, something on the horizon."

Keats gazed out. The area surrounding the estate was relatively flat and green, delimited by hedgerows but there were a few rolling hills, and that meant there was little civilisation to see when facing away from the house. He had been there for most of his working life and had taken the view for granted.

They rode on in a comfortable silence for a little longer, Keats allowing Angie to take in the expanse of countryside. "Can you tell me about Victoria's husband?" She asked, seemingly out of the blue.

Keats blinked and thought for a moment if there was any reason why he shouldn't tell her. Mrs McCarthy hadn't specifically prohibited it.

"He was called Cian McCarthy. His family owned all this: the farm, the estate. He was the last child of a line of Irish aristocracy. They had money, and when Cian came into his inheritance, he invested wisely. He was a good businessman. The only thing he was missing was a wife and a line of succession."

The memories of his employer and friend were painful to Keats, but that pain had faded with time. He dredged up what memories he could as a good story for his subdued riding partner.

"Finally, he met a young woman. A girl with no family of her own who'd been raised by The Sisters of Mercy, and had ended up working at an office in Dublin Cian frequented as part of his business dealings." Keats couldn't help but smile at the memory. "They made such a lovely couple despite the age difference. He had something like ten or fifteen years on her, but they were in love."

"When Cian died, oh, about ten years ago now, cruel types put it about that Mrs McCarthy was responsible and that she'd done it to get his money." His voice took on a defiant tone, "I don't care what anyone says; anyone who'd seen them together would know there wasn't a shred of truth in it. His death broke her heart."

Keats became dour at the next chapter. "Mrs McCarthy took up with an English woman called Fiona Hickman; first in business, but later she lead her down a dark path to where she is now."

Keats looked over at the girl, who had been listening attentively. Her face betrayed sorrow and curiosity in equal measure. "What was he like? Cian, I mean?" she asked.

That was an easier question to answer for Keats as it harkened back to brighter days. He couldn't help but smile. "I liked him a lot. His father took me on at the estate when Cian was a boy. I watched him grow to manhood, his father's son."

"He was strong-willed, but with a good head for business. A good judge of character, too. He knew a good investment when he saw one, both in business and people. I was over the moon when he finally took a wife. They looked so happy together." He sighed heavily. "Cian would never have taken up with Fiona, in business or anything else."

"Thank you for telling me that. I've been here and in the dark for so long. It's good to be able to understand things, even just a little bit."

"You're good for her. You know that, don't you?" Keats blurted.

Angie turned in surprise. "How?"

"She's been different these last few months, I suppose because she's taken up with you. She's been mourning Cian's death for the last ten years. For the first time, I feel like she's with someone who might be able to pull her out of that."

"Oh," was all the girl could manage, an expression of complete surprise. They finished their ride in silence, Angie seemingly deep in contemplation.

---

Victoria gripped the door frame, her blood boiling in her veins. Despite her wretched feelings of remorse, she hadn't been able to help herself and had tracked Angie's movements on the surveillance system. When the girl once again ventured out into the farmyard, Victoria internally moved to a heightened state of alert.

Hypnotised, Victoria had watched as the girl stared in at The Pig, waiting for her to enter and repeat her previous mistake. Instead, Keats had talked to her, and then, to her horror, she had watched them mount the horses and ride out of the farmyard.

Panicked, Victoria paced for a few minutes: had the girl managed to enlist Keats' help in an escape attempt? How long would it be before they reached the authorities on horseback, and they came for her? She prowled around her room, promising dire revenge against her long-standing estate manager and worse for the girl.

The red mist cleared a little as Victoria saw the pair trot back into the farmyard much as they had left. That was when she moved urgently to the back door to show her displeasure. How could they make her think that Angie was escaping? Had she not told her to stay on the estate? Did the girl know the anguish she had caused by her little outing?

In time, Victoria managed to catch herself, remembering the injuries she had caused the last time she had allowed herself to become so angry. She needed help to calm herself, but the only person who could do that was Angie, who was the source of her fury.

Watching them from the threshold, Victoria could see the couple had noticed her. She gestured to the girl with a single beckoning finger. Angie looked resigned, but infuriatingly she took her time dismounting. She briefly thanked Keats, passing him her riding helmet, patted Heather and then deigned to respond to Victoria's call.

"Follow me," Victoria ordered, keeping her voice cool, trying to hold her flaming anger in check. She turned and began walking back into the house in the direction of the playroom, all the while thinking over and over: how could you do this to me?

The rustle of clothes tipped Victoria off that something was happening behind her that she didn't expect. As she turned, the girl sank to her scarred knees, her eyes downcast, her hands in her lap, naked. A trail of her clothes was dotted along the floor behind, marking her journey from the farmyard. The older woman stopped, unsure what she was witnessing. What was the girl playing at?

"Why?" Victoria demanded after a pause.

Angie didn't look up. Addressing her words to the carpet, she spoke in subdued tones. "I've been insensitive. I should have told you I was going for a ride instead of leaving you to worry. Punish me as you see fit."

Victoria's face flushed red. She gritted her teeth in an effort to stop herself from yelling. She wanted to tie the girl down and beat her until she understood how she had felt when she thought Angie had deserted her. She had to put her hand out to support herself as the red mist threatened to take her again.

Looking down at the naked girl, subservient, compliant, contrite, Victoria's head cleared a little. Angie had placed herself at her mercy; it was an unexpected opportunity. She took a deep, steadying breath and thought for a moment.

"You will follow me to your suite. You will clean yourself out thoroughly and then put on the outfit I lay out for you; then, you will wait for me as you are now." Victoria commanded, voice cold, resolute, sure. She turned on her heel and strode to Angie's suite and was pleased to hear the patter of bare feet on carpet, rushing to keep up.

Wordlessly, the naked girl raced to the shower. Victoria laid out the white leather bondage harness, collar, cuffs and nipple clamps that she knew to be in the wardrobe. She walked calmly from the suite, not wanting to betray any urgency, but inside, her loins were on fire with desire; she wanted this girl; she wanted her at her mercy with a compulsion so powerful it surprised her.

The tap of her heels increased tempo once she was out of earshot of her pet so that she could get to her own suite and change into something more appropriate. She returned clad in leather but something which could be easily shed when the need arose.

Victoria found the girl kneeling, wearing the harness, collared, cuffed and scrubbed clean. As Angie looked up at her, her eyes opened wide, the effect Victoria was hoping her outfit would have. It always sent a shiver down her spine when she was able to shock the girl in such a way.

It was then that Victoria drew the package she had been holding behind her back into view. It was a leather muzzle harness with a hole in the mouthpiece. The narrow end of an inflatable butterfly gag has been threaded through the hole so that the harness would hold it inside the girl's mouth, whether it was inflated or not.

The girl blanched at the sight of the gag; she looked up at Victoria, her eyes innocent, beseeching her for mercy. "Couldn't we just cuddle?" she squeaked.

Victoria scowled at her. Was she joking? Did they have a level of banter now? She wasn't sure, but she wasn't going to be denied. She held the deflated butterfly before the girl's mouth, and, despite her supposed reluctance, her lips parted obediently, and she allowed the wings to be tucked in that re-expanded to fill the gap between her teeth and cheeks. Victoria reversed the harness and set about securing straps.

Victoria was tempted to make the girl crawl to the playroom, but her impatient need for satisfaction and her pet's injured knees changed her mind. She clipped Angie's wrist cuffs to the back of her collar, causing her arms to bend up behind her back, and affixed a leash.

Before they set off, Victoria gave the butterfly gag pump bulb a single squeeze. The wings caused the girl's cheeks to puff out a little against the harness straps, and the central part forced her tongue down against the floor of her mouth. The girl gave an annoyed moan and looked at Victoria indignantly. Such a look always filled the older woman with smoking desire. She tugged on the lead urgently; she needed to have this girl now.

They were in the playroom in short order. Victoria transferred the girl's wrists to each end of a chrome bar suspended above her head but not so high as to stress her. Likewise, she secured the girl's ankle cuffs to metal loops set in the floor, forcing her legs open.

Wanting the girl to feel intimidated, Victoria paced around her slowly, gratified that Angie's gaze was revetted to her until the older woman passed behind. Finally, she picked up the harness she had been waiting to use. From it protruded a deeply ribbed dildo in polished black, ten inches long, an inch and a half wide and curving gently along its length. She held it in front of the girl's muzzled face.

"You wanted at least as much pleasure as pain?" Victoria asked rhetorically, enjoying Angie's wide-eyed stare at the implement. "That, you shall receive. In fact, I'm going to make you cum. This will be up your backside and the sole reason for any orgasm I allow you to have." What could be seen of Angie's cheeks flushed, and her nostrils flared as her imagination appeared to get to work on the concept. For good measure, Victoria inflated her gag a little more, causing a stifled whimper to escape.

As always, Victoria planned to take her time despite her own desire. She wanted to make good her promise but would stretch the girl out first so as not to cause undue harm to her rear entrance. She was ready with the first plug when she realised a string with a plastic ring was hanging from the girl's anus. She's already filled herself, Victoria realised with surprise.

From behind Angie, Victoria smiled and thought to herself, this is Skylar's influence. I must thank her at the next opportunity. In fact, perhaps Dita and Skylar would be good for teaching Angie the finer points of submission. She tucked the thought away. The girl became tense as she felt Victoria messing with the string, then she grunted angrily and looked around, her eyes like fire as the older woman pulled the string of plastic balls from her behind with more haste than was necessary.

Victoria thrived on that look. It made her want to bend the girl over and ream her there and then, but she had made a promise, and she meant to keep it. She inserted the first plug quickly due to Angie's already dilated hole and began the long build-up she planned to use to bring the girl to the first of many orgasms.

---

Mary entered the dungeon with deep trepidation. She had been hearing Angie's muffled moans and cries for the best part of an hour and realised as she reached the threshold that it had probably been deliberate. The normally soundproof door had been propped open, no doubt by Victoria so that all could bear witness to her pet's suffering.

Victoria had called her over the intercom to retrieve Angie and escort her back to her suite. After all the noise, Mary hadn't been slow to heed the call.

She found Angie hanging by her wrists from a suspended metal bar. Breath whistled through her nose as some contraption enclosing her head fully blocked her mouth. She wore the leather bondage harness Mary had seen her in before, her ankles cuffed and clipped to points in the floor, forcing her legs to remain spread.

Angie's skin was flushed red and coated in a sheen of perspiration, although other clear juices appeared to be running down her leg. In addition, marks showed where the various implements lying around the floor had been used on her: a multi-tailed leather flogger, a thin wooden rod, and a riding crop tipped with a leather tongue.

The bell-tipped nipple clamps also lay on the floor. A closer inspection of the poor girl's breasts suggested that they had only just been removed, perhaps at the point of orgasm. The floor was also littered with plugs, dildos and vibrators, all betraying signs of use.

Victoria was in the process of securing something to Angie. As Mary approached, she could see that it was a strap-on harness, obviously previously attached to the older woman, and buried deep inside her victim's backside. With the straps wrapped around Angie's harness, the intruder wasn't going anywhere.

The older woman unclipped Angie's ankles only to reconnect them with a length of chain barely a foot long. She then unclipped each wrist and re-clipped them to the back of the girl's collar, her arms bent up behind her back. Finally, Victoria clipped a leash to the front of her collar and presented it to Mary.

Mary was relieved to see that Angie wasn't crying or apparently in pain, merely exhausted. Gingerly, she took the offered lead from her employer.

"Take her back to her suite and clean her up," the older woman commanded imperiously. She looked flushed with exertion herself, and although her face was typically unsmiling, she looked intensely satisfied. "Do not remove anything from her until you get her back. Don't carry or help her unless she is about to fall down."

Mary gulped under Victoria's intense stare. "Yes, ma'am." Mary squeaked. She gently tugged the lead and left her employer picking up the toys which she had left strewn around the floor.

The going was slow. Not only did Angie seem semi-conscious, but the hobble chain inhibited their progress on the two flights of stairs it took to get from the dungeon to their destination. In addition, the girl's gait was curiously waddled; Mary could only assume it was due to the size of whatever was impaling the poor girl's backside. Several times they had to stop so that Angie could lean against a wall and pant; there was certainly no question of her being able to comfortably sit or even squat.

As they reached Angie's suite, Mary lowered the girl so that she could lie on her belly over the edge of her bed.

"Which do you want me to take off first, the gag or this thing in your arse?" Mary couldn't believe she was asking such a question and gave the external protrusion of the toy a tweak. The exhausted girl made an unintelligible throat noise. Reasoning that removal of the invader might cause further discomfort and, therefore, noise, the maid considered it best to do so with the gag still fitted.

Mary untangled the straps and slowly extracted the ribbed toy, producing further moans from the girl. The thing looked massive to Mary's eyes; its entire length glistened with lubricant. She cleaned the monster with a wet wipe and moved around to where Angie's muzzled head was slumped on the bed. With some messing about, she managed to find the valve to deflate the gag and then undo the straps to release the girl.

Angie worked her jaw and coughed a few times but was otherwise silent. Mary knelt to be on eye level with the exhausted girl. She couldn't hide the amusement from her face.

"I can see why Mrs McCarthy likes having you all tied up."

Angie gave her an exasperated look. "I think humiliation was part of my punishment."

"I thought she was torturing you, all the noise you were making."

"She was, in a manner of speaking, but she did keep her promise: at least as much pleasure as pain," Angie conceded.

Mary held up the dildo harness. "It looks huge. Does it hurt?"

"Only the first few times, then the satisfaction of it moving out feels really good."

Mary's eyes opened wide at the thought. "I mean, I've been with a few boys, but this is way out of my league."

Angie looked at her, curious. "What's it like? Being with a boy, I mean."

Mary's surprise increased. It seemed unthinkable that such a sexual being as Angie hadn't started out with some kind of conventional relationship. "You mean you've never?" She trailed off.

"There was a boy I liked at school. When I finally got to kiss him, I'd been with Victoria for a while and by comparison, he wasn't very good."

"You mean you were seeing Victoria while you were still at school?" Mary blurted. Angie immediately clammed up, her mouth becoming a thin line. Mary decided to move on. "Even so, there's no way I'd let anyone put that monster up my arse," she said, referring back to the enormous toy. She unclipped Angie's wrists and allowed her to sit up.

Angie worked her shoulders now that she was free. "You get used to it. In fact, you can get to really like it. Victoria was gentle at first to get me used to it. I guess she got rougher only when I could take it." Angie picked up the toy and held it out. "You should give it a try."

Mary eyed the phallus with trepidation, giving it serious consideration. Her mind boggled at the thought, and she shook her head. She turned back to Angie, who was laboriously removing her wrist cuffs. Mary started working on her ankle cuffs while she spoke. "So, things are OK between you? Are you back together?"

Angie looked glum, perhaps partly driven by her exhaustion. "I'm not sure. I don't even know what 'together' means with us. I thought I used to before I came here, but I was obviously fooling myself. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells, and I can trigger Victoria at any moment without realising it."

The girl sighed and began working on her collar. "At least submitting to her seems to be a way of dealing with her anger, but I'm not sure if that will help in the long run. I'm going to be sore until at least tomorrow." She stood, and as she turned, Mary could see her flushed red buttocks and inflamed rear hole.

"It looks like she took you rather roughly," Mary commented.

"No more than I can handle, I suppose," Angie shrugged. She paced for a moment, moving stiffly, then turned. "If you see Victoria, can you ask her if she would like to sleep in here with me tonight?"

Mary was baffled. "Sure, but why? I thought she was pissed off with you."

"She might say no," Angie conceded, "but she sleeps better with me, and I sleep better when she's in my bed. She ends up calmer, and that's good for everyone. Plus, maybe it'll show her there's no hard feelings?"

Mary couldn't argue with her logic.

---

Later that evening, Mary had agreed to play cards. She was out of uniform and Angie in a night dress, stiff and sore from both horse riding and being ridden by Victoria. Angie enjoyed these times with Mary. They reminded her of the few times she'd been into the city centre with Freya, as she had done many times with Milla, to people-watch over a cup of hot chocolate.

There was a big glass-fronted bookstore with a cafe on the first floor in the centre of Birmingham that would offer the best view of the bustling crowds below. Despite the city centre crowds, Angie always felt relaxed there while in the company of a close friend. It was nice that she had found someone she could feel that way with in her new setting, although she hesitated to think of it as 'her new home'.

They sat cross-legged on Angie's bed, playing in lamp light. The game was fun, and the banter was good-natured. The lock clicked unexpectedly, and suddenly, Angie could feel Victoria's presence permiating the room as she appeared in the doorway. She wore silken dressing gown and elegant slippers. Mary became suddenly stiff and got off the bed, taking the cards with her.

"I was just leaving ma'am." Mary nodded as she made her exit. At the door, unseen by Victoria, she turned and winked at Angie.

Victoria's face was expressionless but there appeared to be an undertone of uncertainty. Angie couldn't help but smile sympathetically. Knowing that words might only upset things, she extinguished the off-side lamp, got under the covers and drew them aside in an unmistakable invitation for the older woman to join her.

Victoria seemed to relax a little, set aside her dressing gown and slippers and slipped under the frictionless sheets. Angie turned off her own lamp and lay on her side, snuggling up against the older woman to allow her to spoon. She reached for Victoria's hand, drew it to her lips for a single kiss and then laid it on her belly under her own. It was her dream of relaxation: a comfortable bed and a cosy bedfellow. She breathed deeply and allowed herself to melt into Victoria's arms, a contented smile on her lips.