Pony Ranch

Chapter 18

“Don’t talk with your mouth open, girl!” Sarah reprimanded, “And don’t do that either. One day, you’ll forget it’s sticking out and bite the end off, and then what will I do for fun?”

I thought the habitual ‘Fuck off’ would be Suzy’s instinctive retort. Still, this time, she withdrew her tongue, closed her mouth, swallowed that final portion of cheesecake and turned to Mandy, blatantly ignoring her big antagonist.

“AS I was saying before being rudely interrupted. Charlie certainly seemed to be enjoying herself. I don’t see her here anywhere.” She twitched her head back and forth, looking around the catering marquee and the various tables. “Did you see the expression on her face when they pulled her backwards to stop her? Well, after that, I mean? Talk about being all het up and not allowed to play! I’ll lay odds she took that cane she was using straight along to Pandora’s stall for a bit more fun!”

“Hardly fun for poor Pandora, though, I expect! That strawberry cheesecake was exquisite, absolutely exquisite” Mandy toyed with her dessert fork on the empty plate and glanced towards the row of buffet tables.

“Plenty left, Boss” Sarah chuckled. “Although I’d dive in fast if I were you.” She gestured with a spoon as two other guests evidently had the same opinion, heading for the dessert table with plates in hand. “Or there was. I can recommend the raspberry trifle as an excellent substitute”.

“If you’ve left any!” Suzy growled, nodding downwards. “What’s that, your third or fourth bowl, or did I miss one?”

“Fuck off, Missy!” Sarah deliberately retorted. “And it’s two, as you very well know, and don’t try telling me you only had one helping of cheesecake; that might have been one plate, but you piled three slices on it, didn’t you!”

“Tch, saving my legs and using this unlike some!” Suzy tapped her head.

I grinned to myself. It was fun being back with the ‘gang’, as it were, even if it was just for a couple of days. I always enjoyed the banter, especially between Suzy and Sarah. We were ending an excellent, if slightly delayed, buffet lunch, and there was no rush. Sir Jeffery had decided to put the auction back until he judged everybody was ready. ‘Don’t want any cases of indigestion, do we?’ he’d quipped, making another of his ‘housekeeping’ announcements from that podium after they’d hustled his reluctant young granddaughter away. “Hopefully, this little pre-luncheon entertainment has stimulated your appetite and maybe your wallets, eh?” he’d finished with a chuckle, jumping down to usher us all into the next tent.

“You’ll get fat, both of you!” Sarah cautioned as our other two companions rose from the table and headed for a desert refill. In response, two fingers rose as one behind two different backs by way of an unspoken but meaningful reply!

The big woman looked at me, but I shook my head and grinned, mouthing a single word at her. I’d opted for the fruit salad sans fresh cream very deliberately. For the first time in my life, I’d become acutely weight-conscious, and no, it had nothing whatsoever to do with fashion or getting into last year's jeans. My spurning those other tempting delights was part of my ongoing campaign to ensure that I could continue to throw a saddle upon my Beauty and then throw a leg over that saddle. 

Sarah chuckled, for the word I’d mouthed was ‘saddle’, and she understood what I meant. We’d had a chat the evening before about Beauty and all that I’d learned from Penny, and I knew it was one of the big woman's regrets that she just wasn’t built to ride a two-legged pony. ‘Even Samsom or Hercules would struggle with me on top!’ she’d laughed, adding. “If I ever did find a pony of suitable size, I doubt it would prove very tractable or easy to catch. Imagine the size of the thing! Maybe there is someone out there built like a bloody elephant for me!”

I nodded in agreement, contemplating how big such an animal must be. Maybe eight, even nine feet in its bare feet, perhaps even bigger. Sarah wasn’t fat or overweight, not obese or anything like that, she was just….well, big. Tall and well built but not unattractively so. She laughed at the thoughtful look I was giving her, obviously sensing my train of thought and leaned forward to top up my champers glass with fresh bubbly, then promptly excused herself, muttering, “Getting old shouldn’t have moved so fast!”

I was temporarily left on my own, abandoned as Sarah headed toward the portable ‘facilities’ between the catering marquee and the smaller one where the auction was to be held at some point. I looked at my watch and then around at my fellow guests, none of whom seemed in a hurry to move towards the day's grand finale. Our host, Sir Jefferey, was talking to Mandy and that older woman we’d met on entering the display tent, along with another couple I’d been introduced to but had already forgotten their names. Suzy had been button-holed by Dolly over by the dessert table and was giggling like crazy, no doubt to some outrageous and probably largely fictitious story!

I didn’t mind sitting alone with three empty seats, for it allowed me to collect my thoughts and get my breath back even though I’d not done anything arduous. It had felt like I had though from the moment we’d entered the luncheon tent. There was a whirlwind of introductions, names and faces as Mandy dragged me from person to couple to small group while urging me to ‘dig in’ at the long buffet table and fill the large oval plate she’d thrust at me. “The tight-fisted old bastards paying for it after all!”

I’ve never been very good at remembering names, faces, yes, but names, no. By the time we’d sat down with Sarah and Suzy, I ate automatically and only half listened to their conversation. I kept surreptitiously glancing around, playing who’s who and wishing Mandy had been more forthcoming. Although to be fair, I could hardly expect her to deliver a resume per person while they stood there smiling at me.

Once we’d filled our plates, I thought she was steering me towards the German couple, Hans Schmidt and his wife Trudi, the German couple who’d brought that Dutch father and son duo. There were two empty seats at their table, but they headed straight past, leaving them to be taken by the gay couple in the matching cream suits, Claude and Eustace. Hardly old, I’d thought as I’d shaken hands with them a few moments earlier, even allowing for how they might seem through young Charlie's teenage eyes.

Mid-forties, maybe a year or two older and perfectly charming, but yes, definitely gay; one didn’t need to be a Sherlock Holmes to deduce that from their mannerisms and talk. Charles was the taller by a couple of inches, totally bald but with an impressive near-handlebar moustache and carefully trimmed goatee beard. Eustace was the opposite, clean-shaven and still possessed a full if somewhat untidy head of blonde hair.

“Piqued, we were, absolutely piqued, dear lady!” Claude told me. “Coming all this way and for what…well, perhaps I am exaggerating our journey length somewhat, but still”, he shrugged and glared across at Sir Jefferey, who was talking to one of his purple-clad young stable boys on the far side of the tent.

“Devastated, weren’t we, sweetheart?” Eustace complained petulantly. “We’d heard about the Dutch duo and said to ourselves, well, why not?” .

“Why not indeed?” Claude continued. “Daddy is older, well older than we’d normally go for, but, well, you’ve seen them, of course, such a gorgeous pair, and did you see the pecs on them, oooh gorgeous and both so deliciously butch!”

“Gorgeous!” his lover echoed, and those sexy firm butts, oh my. We could have had so much fun, untouched, unsullied, unbroken and unpenetrated straights!”

“Exactly”, Claude muttered. “We talked about nothing else for days, didn’t we, love,  and still hadn’t made up our minds even as we drove here”.

“About what?” Mandy had asked curiously before taking a bite out of a sausage roll.

“Why, together or separately, of course!” Eustace seemed surprised at her question. “I mean, one moment, we thought yes, two of us and two of them. Duo on duo, take and use them in tandem in all manner of delightful activities. Then, of course, the next minute, we were back to the idea of two on one while the spare watched, but that led to other entertaining questions, of course.”

“How far should we go with one?” Claude joined in. “I mean, for several weeks on just one while the other had to watch or maybe play swapsies, do nasties unto one for a bit and then turnabout and of course, there was the question of which one we should start on first!”

“But!” Eustace growled. “It seems we have been spared those pertinent questions by a certain greedy and untrustworthy  person of our acquaintance with whom we are exceedingly dischuffed!”

“Exceedingly!”  Claude echoed. “All this way, and we weren’t even allowed a feel!”

“Not so much as a single squeeze”, Eustace added plaintively. “Not with young Charlie standing  there growling at us, well almost!”

“You know, Sweetie, if we were to have another word with a certain someone now we’ve calmed down a little. You know what a penny pincher he is, so if we made a more tempting offer….worth thinking about, eh, love?”

Mandy had steered me away from the unhappy pair to the table that Suzy and Sarah occupied, saying, “Thought you’d prefer a break and time to enjoy your lunch. Too many new faces too quickly, and I know that might be a little overwhelming for such a quiet little mouse! What did you think of Claude and Eustace?”

“Less of the ‘little mouse’, thank you”, I retorted, taking a seat. “I can hold my own; it just takes me a little time to acclimatise to people when you’ve been used to mostly living on your own, and I still live pretty quietly, remember!”

“It wasn’t very quiet the other morning, was it? Not when you were reminding  Goldie that trying to kick his owner was strictly verboten!” Suzy chuckled and winked at her main boss. “Not a wise decision at any time, but especially so when you belong to a certain someone whom I shan’t mention, who seemed to have got out of bed on the wrong side that morning, silly animal!”

I ignored the girl and  answered Mandy’s question, “They seem a very…” I paused, wondering if ‘nice’ was the right word under the circumstances, and then decided being so pedantic was silly. “Nice, friendly couple. I liked them”.

“Oh, they’re harmless, very inoffensive.” Mandy shrugged, concentrating on her overfilled plate, and missed my raised eyebrows. “There are far worse people, far worse, believe me!”

My eyebrows twitched at that, but why should I be surprised not now after I’d seen and done so much myself in the last few months? I assumed she was referring to those she knew within this unique, closed and very private world of human livestock ownership rather than the world at large. That reminded me of the question I’d been itching to ask, but so far, having been swept along by other things I’d not yet had the chance to ask, Sarah headed me off at the pass. At least, that’s how my cowboy-loving dad might have put it.

“West London”

“Pardon?”

“Kensington, West London. Claude and Eustace they have a big house in that area. Very posh neighbourhood,  upmarket,  exclusive and very with a capital E, expensive. Judith and  I met up with Inga for lunch a couple of months ago when we saw Les Misérables. It's a great show, by the way. I thought she might have moved on, but she seems happy enough with those two reprobates!”

“Is she still teaching?” Mandy asked, momentarily pausing her assault on a roast chicken leg.

“Who’s Inga?” Suzy asked.

“She’s sort of a housekeeper cum resident major-domo for Claude and Eustace. Does a bit of cooking and cleaning, but they are quite domesticated and like to do most of that themselves. Her main responsibility is looking after the resident ‘boys’ in the basement cages. They find that a bit tedious. She teaches young deaf kids three days a week, speech therapy, sign language, etc. She’s from Sweden and has a great sense of humour. She's a lovely girl both in looks and personality!”

“Unless you happen to be one of the ‘boys’ occupying a cage in the basement”, Mandy observed delicately picking at a sliver of chicken stuck between two teeth. “I doubt they would consider her to be ‘lovely!’ Got it”, she exclaimed triumphantly, looking at her fingernail before wiping it on a serviette.

“Left on your lonesome, all abandoned. Oh, sorry, we didn't mean to startle you. Mind if we join you?

I had started a little being so engrossed in thinking back to that recent conversation regarding the cream-suited gay couple plus their ‘Boys in the basement’  and Inga. I’d have to probe that one a bit further, I’d been thinking, maybe a lot further, for my curiosity had been roused. Or should that be aroused? I was pondering the similarities and complexities of the English language when I’d been interrupted.

It was the young couple I’d met briefly the day before. Jane and Jerry, the Johnstons, as Mandy had introduced them after they exited the carriage they’d been driving. They were hovering with desert bowls in one hand and spoon in the other, looking slightly apologetic.

“We were sitting over there”, Jane gestured with her spoon, “Only Colonel Masterton and his wife seem to have taken our seats, and we didn’t like to say anything. I mean not to them!”

“We were talking to the Schmidts and went for a bit of desert and nowhere to sit!” Jerry muttered, nodding to the offending couple. I’d been briefly introduced to them a little earlier and could understand Jerry’s reluctance. Colonel Masterton was a cartoonist's dream, the very image of an ill-tempered eighteenth-century land-owning country squire. Short of stature, fiercely moustached, red-faced, wearing a cheque sports jacket a shade too loud, a mustard yellow waistcoat, and naturally armed with a heavy stick that looked more akin to a war club than a walking stick. His wife was a good head, taller, beanpole-thin, and dressed as though she were attending a relative's funeral. Her handshake had been very limp, unlike her husbands, who’d crushed my fingers in an iron grip, but at least he’d attempted a smile, whereas his wife had merely muttered ‘charmed’ while delivering a look that made me feel I was something unpleasant she’d just stepped in!

“Be my guest”, I grinned, nodding to the three empty chairs. “I don’t think I’d care to try my luck with that pair, either, and I don’t even know them.”

“Neither do we” Jane flashed a grateful smile at me as she sat down. “Only by sight and reputation and…” she paused and shuddered. “Less said about that, the better, I think”.

“They weren’t being rude intentionally,” her husband said. I noticed they were circulating and sitting to chat with people where there were empty seats, and the staff had cleared our dirty dishes away. We also stopped to talk to Dolly and Suzy. Are you buying today, or rather this afternoon, I should say?”

I shook my head, then immediately reconsidered and shrugged. “I’m not sure. It’s my first auction, so I’m a complete newbie to all this, but…” I paused and then laughed. One lot has caught my eye, plus, of course, there’s my bank balance to think about!”

“Oh yes,” Jerry laughed. “That is our limiting factor. Facilities, yes; time, yes; enthusiasm, very much a yes! But alas, we also have to be fiscally prudent! We came more to socialise this time than to buy, saving our pennies for a suitable young colt when one becomes available. Which one has caught your eye? Not that surprise lot, I’m guessing if you are also watching the pennies closely!”

“Maybe they shouldn’t have stopped young Charlie from giving her a good taste,” Jane giggled. “If they’d let her carry on through lunch, then I’m sure that bitch’s price would have dropped quite a bit! One of the mares they had on the walker yesterday caught your fancy, perhaps?

I nodded, but she’d reminded me of Suzy’s earlier remark about Charlie before Sarah interrupted her for talking with her mouth full. I looked around and saw the youngster talking to Simon over in the far corner, and she still had that long, thin cane in her hand she’d used earlier. The girl might be young, but she’d applied that bamboo very effectively and quite mercilessly with youthful energy and enthusiasm upon a certain wannabe celeb's most famous and prominent assets!

“Hmmm”, her husband nodded. “Now, if the biding was low…”

“Don’t even think it!” Jane had been licking the back of her desert spoon and promptly used it to tap her husband on the head. “If I catch you even thinking of slipping a filly or a mare into our stable, you know what I’ll do to you, don’t you? 

Jerry chuckled and winked at me. “Would you believe I got scolded for even looking at that old bitch on the second stand back there? Henpecked, that’s what I am!”

“Open wide for the train”, his young wife commanded, and this time the spoon fed him a portion of her trifle, and then she smiled at me. “Not in the least. His ‘pecker’ is allowed full rein or, rather, off the reins just so long as it’s a cute young colt he’s aiming at. I adore watching, there is something, oh I don’t know. Something very primitive about it that makes me as randy as hell!” She gave me a wicked smile and ran her tongue around her lips with half-closed eyes. “Mmmm, Very sexy, especially if I’ve warmed one up for him first in my special way!”

I looked over at Jerry, who promptly winked at me again, confirming my suspicion that there would be nothing very intimate involved in Janes's ‘warming up’ of a captive ponyboy.

“Whereas watching him fuck a female animal does nothing for me, nothing at all! “ Jane continued and then giggled. “Not that I’m averse to giving a mare or filly a good warming up. That’s different, of course!”

“See, Henpecked” Jerry repeated with a chuckle. “You certainly gave young Draco a good ‘warming up’ yesterday, darling. The poor beast could hardly stay on his feet when we headed home after our little outing!”

“Did not!” Jane replied indignantly and then reconsidered. “Well, maybe I was a touch over-enthusiastic. I have always hated him in Harry Potter, so why not? Besides, you can talk. He was fine, or maybe fine(ish), after I’d finished whipping him, so it must have been that vigorous shafting you gave him that took his legs away, so don’t blame me!”

“Maybe, but I wasn’t the one on the receiving end of that disapproving look from Simon, was I when we took them back! He didn’t need to ask who’d tried to turn Draco into a zebra! I saw that look he gave you!”.

“Like this” She pulled a weird expression and then laughed. “Doesn't work without the goatee! Anyway, the lazy beast deserved all he got; he was hardly pulling his weight before we stopped for your little bit of afternoon fun. Hey, and there goes Charlie, still in a right  huff by the look of it!”

We all looked at the youngster who stalked out of the luncheon tent, looking decidedly unhappy about something, and now minus that cane. Simon, I noted, was now holding the implement, having disarmed the girl, much to her evident displeasure.

“Round two cancelled, perhaps?” Jerry mused and then chuckled.

I nodded. “I doubt they intended a second round, and if they had, we all saw how carried away she got in round one!”

I wondered what the brief had been for her grandfather's introduction had included the word ‘gentle’. I couldn’t recall everything he’d said, not word for word, and he had undoubtedly been a bit wordy. Indeed, Mandy, standing next to me, had muttered irritably. “Get on with it, you gabby old goat; some of us want our lunch!”

A few minutes later, she’d changed her tune as we applauded young Charlie as she left or rather was reluctantly, half dragged, half hustled off the podium. “Bravo, now that has definitely ensured I will enjoy my lunch all the more!”

Condensing Sir Jefferies rather flowery words, he’d said something like. “I know my honoured guests are all eager to partake in the delights of the adjacent chow tent, and having sampled a few of the treats on offer myself, purely on account of my duties as a conscientious host, I can assure you that they are indeed delightful….” Yes, you get why Mandy was becoming impatient and muttering to herself!

Condensing even more, he told his audience that to add that little bit of extra spice to heighten their appetites and hopefully loosen their wallets for later, he’d decided to allow this little bird to sing for us. He indicated the struggling so-called celeb secured next to him, adding that my lovely young granddaughter has volunteered to wield the conductor's baton for this impromptu and, might I add, completely unrehearsed first performance.  

Young Charlie immediately shot through the opening in the tent wall to join her grandfather so fast that Sarah muttered something pithy about ‘scorch marks on the damn grass!”.

The youngster was literally hopping from one white trainer-clad foot to the other with suppressed excitement, and that was some baton she intended to conduct with. A long, thin cane that she was flexing back and forth between her hands. The expression on the girl's face showed that Mandy wasn’t the only one feeling impatient as her grandfather held up a hand to quieten the audience.

“Show of hands, ladies and Gentlemen. Shall we remove the gag and free our little caged bird's beak to sing, or leave as is? Hands up for remove…..ah, that’s what I thought!” he laughed as all our hands shot upwards, accompanied by a few calls of out or remove! “Now, patience, young lady, patience!” he admonished Charlie as he wagged a finger towards Simon. “If you’d be so kind, my good fellow”.

Naturally, it got very noisy when the red ball gag was removed. The ‘lady’ and I use that word very loosely had a well-known tendency to push the decibel level way up by emitting shrill ear-splitting shrieks of disapproval. Nor did it take much to set her off under normal circumstances, and her present predicament was completely abnormal.

“YOU FUCKING PERVERTS! I’ll SUE THE FUCKING LOT OF YOU, LET ME GO NOW! THIS IS NOT FUNNY YOU  DEVIANT BASTARDS. YOU CAN’T MESS AROUND WITH ME, MOTHERFUCKERS! MY AGENT WILL BE CALLING EVERY FUCKING PAPER EDITOR IN THE COUNTRY, IN THE FUCKING WORLD ABOUT THIS AS SOON AS I GET TO A PHONE. THIS ISN’T FUNNY, YOU FUCKERS, AND I’LL SEE THE LOT OF YOU LOCKED UP FOR YEARS. I KNOW ALL ABOUT YOU FUCKING PERVS, AND I’M READY TO TELL….”

“And that’s what we were afraid of!” Mandy hissed in my ear, briefly diverting my attention. “Far too much of a loose cannon, we decided.”

“We?”

Mandy held a finger to her lips and winked. “Tell you later. Let’s watch the fun first.”

The repetitive flow of foul abuse had been temporarily halted as Simon nipped her nose and quickly popped the ball gag back in response to a gesture from his boss. As compére, Sir Jeffery radiated calm and dignified composure, a complete contrast to the two females on stage. They seemed to be the complete opposite, but for differing reasons. One quivering with helpless rage, and the other visibly about to burst with impatience!

Sir Jeffery held up his hand, presumably to call for silence—or maybe not, since we’d all gone quiet anyway while that shrill outburst had been going on. I mean, who could compete with that racket? He took a couple of paces forward and addressed the struggling figure, speaking in a loud, clear voice, presumably more for his audience's benefit rather than his victim's since she was a mere foot or so away.

“I’d advise you to save your breath for what you are about to receive. Your filthy guttersnipe language may amuse certain tabloid editors and morons who read such rubbish, but it carries no weight here. No one knows you are here, and you certainly haven’t the wits to leave a message with a friend or an envelope under a certain stone in the garden! You have ceased to exist, and that pink mechanical monstrosity outside will shortly also disappear. At this very moment, some competent and professional people are going through your London apartment and the house in Surry with a fine tooth comb. So convenient for us that your obnoxious behaviour has left you bereft of domestic employees at both places yet again! You may also be interested to know that the idiot who deemed you fit to enter into a very exclusive world has also ceased to exist, at least outside of this exclusive world. I understood you created something of a fuss, no doubt intended, wearing that grossly inappropriate outfit you wore to his funeral three weeks ago. All those crocodile tears shed over the well-charred corpse of a poor homeless chap who’d expired quite naturally, no doubt due to his circumstance and perhaps alcohol or drug abuse!”

“What, was that….?” I whispered.

“Shhhsh!” Mandy hissed. “Listen!”

“…now in harness himself and learning to pull a racing sulky at a very isolated private estate in the Malaysian jungle. A simple matter of arranging a car crash and then playing swapsies. Now, I’m feeling a tad peckish as I’m sure my impatient guests are, so….” He beckoned to Charlie, who bounced eagerly forward.

“Oh, one other thing.”

“Nooooo!” Charlie gave a vexed squeal and angrily swished her cane through the air.

“Patience” " her grandfather cautioned, turning back to the restrained figure who’d suddenly gone very quiet both movement-wise and ceased those incoherent, gagged protests. Her eyes were very wide, and that anger and indignation had been supplanted by growing fear and apprehension. It wasn’t Sir Jeffery she was focused upon.

“Just another minor housekeeping note purely for your benefit”, Sir Jeffery casually told her. “You’ll pleased to know that we have taken the trouble to arrange new homes for your two Persian cats and German Shepherd. The fact that they have all gone missing as well will add further credence to the story that you decided on an abrupt lifestyle, road to Damascus change and are now rumoured to be resident at a convent cum sanctuary somewhere in South America, having undergone a religious experience. The gutter press will undoubtedly spend a small fortune trying to find you for an exclusive, but that’s their problem!” he paused and gave her a thin smile before continuing.

Your pets have been adopted by a good friend who adores animals and has quite a collection…..” he paused again “of both the four and two-legged variety. Who knows, depending on what happens this afternoon, you may even get the opportunity to see or join them, depending on the bidding, eh?”

“We’ll see”, Mandy Muttered.

I was tempted to ask who Sir Jeffery was referring to, but I didn’t. I’d only get hissed at or something similar to shut me up, I suspected.

“Very nice of us, I thought. I mean, we’re not cruel people, after all,” he paused, and a ripple of amusement ran around his audience. “At least not to our furry friends”, he smiled. “Fortunately for us, your antics, your penetration, your exposure to our little world and its varied amusements wasn’t as deep as it might have been, but still….” He paused and seemed to think momentarily as he regarded the frightened face before him. “Well, no matter, no harm done, the proverbial milk remains un-spilled, the cat is still bagged up and…”

“GRAMPS!”

Young Charlie was a fraction quicker than Mandy, who was tensing herself beside me, plus she had the vantage of already being up on that podium next to the old windbag. Our host found himself suddenly yanked backwards and might even have made an undignified descent from the podium had not Simon jumped forward to lend support to his employer.

“Whoops, nearly, thanks, Si!” Charlie quickly apologised over her shoulder, but her eyes were fixed on those oversized, exposed, sun-bronzed orbs she’d been greedily eyeing for the last few minutes. “Excuse me!” she said politely to the owner of those jutting breasts, tucking the cane under one arm and reaching upwards to remove that gag again.

“Excuse me, really!” Suzy giggled.

Big Sarah promptly said something in reply, and almost undoubtedly sarcastic, knowing her, but it was lost, drowned out by that first shrill protesting shriek of pain and profound disbelieving outrage. Talk about being quick on the draw; young Charlie could have outgunned the best of them on Main Street Dodge City or Tombstone, thinking back to my dad’s Western video collections. They must also be up in the attic with all the other junk, as I couldn’t recall ever throwing them away!

The girl had whipped that cane from under her arm, raised it and brought it down in a vicious slashing cut across both jutting tits almost before the discarded red ball gag hit the floor. Up, swish and splat all in one blurred movement! I think the horrified recipient had been attempting to say ‘You wouldn’t dare’ but never got beyond “You would….” before she shrieked in agony. I winced instinctively in sympathy even though my mind was still video and attic-bound.

As I believe I may have mentioned before, I’d briefly, very briefly experimented upon myself once with a cane on my butt, but not all that hard. It had hurt like hell even with minimum force, partly due to its swishyness possibly. It wasn’t an experiment I’d ever repeated, although I’d had plenty of opportunities to witness the effect and response when applied to pony hide since then.

That abruptly terminated verbal attempt was the only coherent verbal speech miss big tits managed, for she was still writhing and shrieking in agony when her left received the full force of the second cut from that wicked cane. The third blow fell on her right, so it continued alternating, and  I’d lost count; the girl’s arm flashed up and down so fast. Blink, and you’d miss, although there was zero chance of not hearing splat and shriek, not to mention all the accompanying screams, yells and screeches!

Unless I’m in an ultra-foul mood, it takes me time to build up a ‘full head of steam’ when I’m delivering a full-on formal punishment flogging, and there was nothing very formal about this one. Charlie had gone from zero to full throttle in a fraction of a second, and the whole scene was over almost before we had time to take it all in. Not quite a blink and you’d miss it moment but not far off being such. They pulled the young enthusiast backwards after she’d ignored her grandfather's angry shout. “Six, no more than six, I said and slowly!”

As I said, I’d lost count, but if the script had called for ‘six of the best’, then young Charlie had been well on the way to doubling that and still managed to get an addition cut in even as her grandfather leapt forward to aid Simon in pulling the unwilling youngster away from her victim. I suspect Sir Jeffery had intended his little extra to be something of a slow, visual, sadistic feast for his guests. Charlie's unbridled sadistic enthusiasm had put the mockers on that idea!

The girl was still struggling and vainly waving that cane as those two grey-suited heavies appeared along with the cropped blonde woman to assist and relieve them of their wriggling teenage bundle. Our host recovered some of his poise, brushed down his horrible purple suit, straightened his tie, and calmly announced, "Luncheon would now be served.”  He spoke in the kind of ultra-dignified neutral tone that made him sound like the archetypal country house butler in a bad stage play. I half expected him to tag  ‘Mi’ Lord’ on the end! 

“And about time, too,” Mandy grumbled as she led us away without a backward glance at the heavily sobbing figure fastened to the post behind us.

*****

“She said she’d always wondered about all that silicone” I jerked my head towards the other tent. My mind returned to the young couple sharing my lunch table. “Mandy, I mean”.

“Why?”  Jane asked vaguely. She was toying with her empty champagne flute in a way that evidently irritated her husband for he reached over and made as though to slap her hand gently. Jane was too quick and moved it sharply out of the way; his act seemingly helped her to decide something. She raised the glass, wiggling it from side to side, and a moment later, a purple-clad youth was there to provide a refill.

“I’m not driving!” she shrugged, looked at me and repeated, “Why?”

“Why? Oh yes, Silicone!” I nodded. “Mandy was curious as to how those sizeable udders would respond to Charlie's cane. She has a couple of artificially enhanced fillies in her stable, part of her show and dressage collection. Not her doing, she told me; they came suitably enhanced when she acquired them fresh from the wild”.

“Oh!” Jane sighed. “It must be so nice to have a wild one, a fresh one to train and not some second-hand cast-off!”

“I doubt the ponyboy would find it very nice, Honey!” Jerry chuckled with a wink at me.

“Or ponygirl”, Jane added thoughtfully. “I think I could live with us owning a truly fresh wild one, provided….” she looked at her husband and then shrugged. "But I'm interrupting, sorry”.

“No problem” I smiled at her. “Mandy's ponies are a good deal younger than…”

“That fucking slag! She thinks she’s God's gift to the male species!” Jane interrupted me again and jerked her head in the appropriate direction, and we both instinctively turned to stare at Jerry, who looked somewhat abashed and raised a hand in a mock gesture of protection.

“Hey, leave me out of it! I’ve never even read so much as a single copy of that tabloid rag she was always flaunting her assets in. Hell, I was hardly out of romper suit’s  back when she looked naturally sexy and didn’t need half a ton of silicone and a suitcase full of cosmetics to sell herself to the masses!”

“Did you have pinups when you were older? I’ve never asked, but now I think about it. My brother did. My mother made him take them down. She said she wasn’t a prude and tits she could live with but blatantly displayed pubes, hairy or otherwise; she drew the line  when vacuuming….sorry, I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”

“No worries”. I chuckled and made a mental note. I’d have a word with Sally when I got home. I decided we’d invite this young couple over for a long weekend sometime, they were likely to be fun. Maybe we’d have to build that annexe after all. Suzy seemed to have settled in more or less permanently; our ‘failed foster’ Sally had laughingly called the girl when we were in bed the other night. But, extra space would come in handy, and there was a semi, well more than semi-ruined, outbuilding that abutted the rear of my small farmhouse that had possibilities. But, I shook myself; that was for the future, and Jane was looking expectantly at me.

“Mandy’s ponies aren’t all; I mean, they look natural, they aren’t….” I thought for a moment, recollecting my thread.

“Abnormal! Top-heavy!” Jerry offered.

I laughed. “Yeah, you could say that. Enhanced but certainly not abnormal, very natural looking and nicely firm. They’ll still look pretty acceptable in that department in twenty years. At least, that’s what Mandy reckons. I know she’s in two minds about enhancing one or two of her racing and similar ponies to improve the look and keep them nicely firm and proud”.

“So what’s stopping her?” Jerry asked, looking at his empty glass and then at his wife. Jane shook her head, and he sighed, muttering, “Henpecked!” again.

“Ignorance!” I shrugged, “or rather, lack of knowledge would be a better way of putting it. Surgical enhancements or removals are not unusual; I gather for two-legged livestock. Not many ponies, though, she said, have their udders inflated to that extent. It affects their balance for one thing, plus they might look entertaining on a racing pony, but it is more likely to be a handicap than an advantage. She was curious as to how they would hold up when you discipline them over a long period. I mean, faced with a skinny rump or a pair of udders like that cow sports, I mean, it’s a no-brainer which targets you're going to choose, at least not to me anyway!” I grinned at them. “How resilient would they be?”

“Pop!” Jerry laughed and tried to make the sound with a finger in his mouth, but he failed. “Never could do that nor snap my fingers”, he admitted ruefully, wiping his forefinger on a napkin.

Jane promptly raised her right hand, snapped her fingers twice, and then laughed, waving away the purple-clad youths who hastened over to see what she wanted. “I find it a handy training aid. A pony soon learns to obey when I snap my fingers”.

“What does it mean?” I enquired.

“Whatever I want”, she replied with a casual shrug.

“And if the pony doesn’t understand?” I persisted.

Silly question, I admonished myself as she gave me a sweet smile and made that oh-so-familiar whip-cracking motion with her right arm.

“What I want to know,” Jerry said surreptitiously, stealing his wife’s glass and taking a quick sip. “How the hell did they grab the bitch. I mean, well, yes, Sir Jeffery kind of told us that and some basics, but who decided to do it? I mean….” He broke off, looking at his wife with a worried expression. “We’re still quite newbies ourselves to all this! What if?” he gestured around the tent.

“A bit worrying?” I laughed, guessing his train of thought, for my mind had been running along similar lines as we sat down for lunch. “I know what you mean and….ah, Mandy’s heading back. I’ll let her tell you”.

“Hey guys, room for a little one? Whoopsie,” she wobbled slightly before seating herself in the vacant chair. “S’alright”, she assured me, taking a large sip from her glass. “Sarah’s insured to dive…drive rather, the Rover, and maybe even Suzy is. What’s up? Why all the long faces?”