Chapter 5
“You can see around the old homestead some other time, maybe stay a couple of days. Bring that fine animal of yours over, and we’ll give the beast a good run out, get those long legs of hers covering the ground.” Mandy said as we walked out into the spacious hall together, her mood then changed abruptly, and she took several quick paces forward, halting with hands-on hip, and snapped.
“If I see so much as one filthy mark on that floor, no matter how fucking tiny girl, you’ll suffer! Elbow grease girl, that filthy floor needs scrubbing and scrubbing hard. Don’t waft that brush over it, and hope for the best! That filth needs scrubbing, hard ” her tone had altered abruptly, and I saw a figure on hands and knees near the entrance cowering back from my host's sudden anger, a bucket and brush nearby. As a thoroughly lazy, even slovenly homeowner myself, that old marbled tiled floor, to my eye, already looked immaculate!
I followed her and saw it was a different maid, but similarly attired to the first bar, the tight white latex hood that completely covered her head, rendering her faceless. I noted with amusement that she still sported a silly little maids cap perched somehow on top! The girl crouched doglike with her hands flat to the floor where she knelt, cowering before her owners booted feet.
Mandy nudged the brush in front of her with her expensive-looking white boot. An ordinary wooden brush such as you might find in any home or hardware department save for the fact that this one had a short thick phallic stub protruding from the back.
“Pick it up and dunk it, you idle bitch, that brush should be dripping; dunk it!” Mandy ordered, pointing to a large square bucket two-thirds filled with soapy water next to the maid. The girl leaned forward, seizing the phallic stub between her teeth, twisted on her hands and knees and lowered her head into the bucket. Mandy promptly raised her right leg, and her boot thrust the maids head hard down into the water.
She only held her there for a few seconds before lifting her foot and allowing the maid to raise her head from the bucket, who emerged snorting and spluttering but somehow managing to keep hold of the brush. The woman, for I could tell from her general figure and the small saggy whip scarred breasts and skinny bottom that she was no spring-chicken, immediately lowered her head and started franticly scrubbing the floor as though her life depended on it. Perhaps it did!
That ultra-tight clinging latex hood fascinated me how it fitted to her head so tightly that it wasn’t so much a second skin as an adjunct to the original. It covered her head entirely and disappeared down into the posture collar around her neck. A slight bulge with numerous small perforations where her ears were and openings for eyes and nostrils and of course her mouth, but even around these, it clung so tightly there was no gap, no crease, no leeway.
“Can I touch it, her?” I asked, joining Mandy by the entrance.
Mandy flashed me an amused look. “Of course you can, Honey. Although why you should want to handle this old slag supprises me. I can assure you there is far more attractive, plumper and fresher flesh awaiting us in the stable!”
I grinned back and looked down at the maid, her head moving in a rapid circular movement as she pushed that wet brush over the tiles. I could tell from her body language how terrified she was of the tall, elegant woman who towered so imperiously above her. Who was she, and what had Mandy done to reduce her to this level of abject grovelling submission?
“It that rubber hood she’s wearing, it's fascinating, so tight”, I replied. “I mean, you can see every contour of her head. It looks as though it's glued to her, and what about her hair?”
“Ah, I see,” Mandy said, still sounding amused, then kicked the maid hard in the thigh. “Kneel up and put your hands behind your back, girl”, she ordered, then gestured to me. “Be my guest”.
“I thought I already was”, I quipped back with another grin and reached out.
I was right apart from the sensual feel of the warm thin rubber. I might have been rubbing my palm over a bald head. I stopped and looked at Mandy, who nodded in response to my silent question and confirmed my suspicion.
“No hair, none whatsoever. All gone, shaved and then scalded”.
“Scalded!”
Mandy sighed. “Short memory, Honey? Think back again to our phone chat the other day. Janet's rather nasty caustic concoction, remember. Piebald ponies occasionally. As I said, I’ve never used it on my ponies, but when she was over one time, I got her to apply the depilation treatment to this bitch”.
I eyed her a trifle balefully while continuing to rub my hand over that smooth surface that felt so deliciously sexy under my fingers and palm. “Don’t be so nasty to me. I’m new to all this. You can’t expect me to take everything in at once,” I protested.
Mandy smiled apologetically. “Point taken, “That foolish bitch poked her nose in where it wasn’t wanted and so pays the price, a very high price for her Illegal entry. Quite unsuited for use in stable or kennel and certainly not the bedroom,” she grimaced. “The nosey bitch can pay for her entry ticket toiling in my house, but I have no wish to see her ugly face; thus, she wears that hood.”
I looked down at the faceless women trembling beneath the strokes of my hand. “How often does it come off?”
Mandy gave another of those chortling laughs that immediately confirmed that I’d asked a ‘silly’ question’. “Off! Why should I allow that? She was ugly enough before Janet applied her greasy mix. I told you sometimes there was a bad reaction to the goo, which proved true in this case. She lost her hair but gained a lot of big red and purple blotches like oversize birthmarks. Not at all pretty to look at” She shrugged. “So I hooded the leprous hag permanently! Another of the items the company I’m involved with makes. Extremely costly for the ordinary buyer but exceptional quality. Check out those openings, the way the rubber thins down to almost nothing and seals so tightly to her skin. Tough yet flexible and lasts for several years”.
My fingers confirmed that was so—a remarkably tight seal. I’d seen their rubber gear online and wondered at the price, but if the full suits fitted like that, wow!
“Lick that filthy water off”, Mandy ordered with a finger snap pointing at one of her glossy white boots. “Then you can resume your duties. I want that floor scrubbed spotless as far as the grandfather clock, then report to Mrs Smythe. You can do the other half tomorrow”.
The anonymous maid instantly dropped down, carefully deposited the brush on the floor, and then applied herself to tonguing the toe of Mandy's right boot for a few seconds till it was withdrawn and kicked her in the ribs. The fingers snapped and pointed to the brush while Mandy cocked her head in an invitation to follow her.
As we exited and walked out into the sunlight, I looked back to see that pathetic figure, brush in mouth, vigorously scrubbing the floor as best she could. I was a touch awed at the complete control Mandy had over her. Not just her, it seemed every animal or slave that was captive on this estate.
“Those maids, don’t ever try and escape?” I asked, thinking about the life they must lead, the scars on their bodies and the apparent lack of supervision I’d witnessed.
Mandy laughed. “Not if they have any sense, there are cameras everywhere, movement sensors, all sorts of high tech stuff, plus those posture collars aren’t just on them for my visual pleasure and their discomfort. Stray out of a specific area, and they get a nasty shock, go further, and it gets worse quickly to the point where it’ll knock them cold. Waking up, I can assure you, would not be pleasant!”
“You’re a very evil woman Mrs Montague-Smythe,” I told her.
“Takes one to know one”, Mandy retorted cheerfully. “Anyway, I didn't invite the bitch here, so it's entirely her own fault. My conscience is clear, well sort of” she giggled.
We’d come to an abrupt halt about halfway between the house's rear door and the immense stable building for some reason, so I popped another question. “Uninvited, how do you mean?”
“I mentioned it earlier, Honey. We’ve had the odd trespassers. She and her husband plus daughter had got it into their foolish heads that we were conducting some sort of experiments on animals—fully paid up members of the animal rights loony club, all three, I expect. As I said, I told Bob that he needed to leave that ‘E’ word out! Idiots never let anyone know where they were going, so no questions asked. It turned out all three had proudly served several brief custodial sentences for breaches of the peace for similar trespass offences. Well, now they are serving life terms sans parole! Fringe benefits, Honey, fringe benefits!"
“A bit risky though”, I muttered thoughtfully more to myself than for Mandy’s ears, but of course, she heard and waved a hand impatiently at me.
“Oh, tish tosh. Hell, what sort of risk did you take getting that fine pony of yours and her little friend into your stable, eh” she wagged a finger at me. “Money does talk, you know if necessary. Anyway, there was no need in their case nor Samsons, either”.
I looked inquiringly at my intriguing host, for there were numerous questions already queuing for answers or further explanation, but that could wait. “Samson?”
“Big ugly bastard, pulls ploughs and other such objects as required by whoever is holding a whip. I believe you made his acquaintance a little earlier, although Sally forgot to do the formal introductions,” Mandy chuckled.” Remind me at lunchtime, and I’ll fill you in on his background and a couple of others. “Now, this is my stable building. Impressive, eh?” she threw out a hand towards the sizable building in front of us.
Impressive was right. I hadn’t paid all that much attention to it previously, mainly due to the manner of our speedy unorthodox arrival and meeting Miss Judith before Mandy swept me inside the house. Now I wondered how it hadn’t registered with me, for it was the size of a small aircraft hanger. An enormous pale green building of masonry and sheet metal easily capable of containing a fleet of small business aircraft or housing a small manufacturing business.
“Down at that end, you can see part of the original brick stables. They were in a sort of L shape, and we kept most of the old stalls. They are all inside now. Masses of interior light due to all those big windows high up in the walls, and most of the roof is glass. The whole building has a light and airy feel to it, so it's almost like being outdoors, especially when the roof panels are open—not musty and cramped like the old building was. Hell, there was no room to swing the proverbial cat in that one, let alone a whip!
“It's enormous.”
Mandy nodded. “Sizeable, but it does provide a pleasant environment” She paused and giggled, making a whip-cracking motion with one hand. “Pleasant for some of us anyway, although recalling that foul old stable, the ponies ought to be more appreciative. Compared to that hovel, this is five-star, luxury, air-conditioned accommodation compared to what my two-legged equines had before!”.
“Another of your can opener to the wallet renovations?”
Mandy shook her head. “Quite the contrary. It took me weeks to get Bob and his mother to agree to all the first house upgrades and repairs and about ten minutes to get an open cheque on the first stable upgrade. Come on. We’ll go in the door down at the paddock end”.
“You must have been very persuasive,” I told her as we walked along the side of the building.
Mandy chuckled. “Merely pointed out that three people and five ponies was not a good ratio of whip to pony hide taking into account recovery time. Whereas if we had the facilities to take on substantially more ponies, well, they both became enthusiastic pretty damn quick!”
As we walked, I became conscious of a rhythmic thwacking sound growing louder that I was already familiar with, likewise the muted anguished squeal that followed. It was no surprise then to see the source as we strolled around the corner of the building and entered a sizeable grassy paddock surrounded by a neat white picket fence somewhat higher than usual. The area encompassed one end of the building and ran on beyond for some distance. Dotted about were galvanised water troughs, the odd tree and clumps of wildflowers, plus a couple of rustic picnic bench and table units.
The gate closed behind us with an audible ‘snick’ as Mandy pulled it and paused to double-check the catch. Two girls sat relaxing at one of the picnic tables, turned and smiled at us, waving in response to Mandys raised hand. Three mugs, an open packet of biscuits and a glossy fashion magazine reposed on the table. One of the girls was absently stroking a large tabby cat with two white front paws lying on the table enjoying the sun. The innocent scene set against the peaceful green pastoral background terminated there, though, for they were idly chatting while watching a third girl methodically flogging a struggling squealing ponygirl in front of two big open doors.
“Suzy, Mittens, the stable cat, and you’ve already met Judith”, Mandy wigwagged a finger to the trio as we approached the table. Coffee break girls, I see. Don’t eat too many of those choccy biscuits, Suzy if you want to keep that trim figure, then again, with my sweet tooth, who am I to be lecturing others! Isabella been playing up, has she?”
Suzy, a cute pixie-haired girl about my size who looked way too young for the nature of her employment but probably wasn’t made a face at her boss and nibbled on a biscuit. “Yes, Ma’am, kept the stable, awake half the night throwing her self about in her stall and kicking up a right racket. We had to restrain her in one corner to stop her from injuring herself. Then she managed to catch poor old Mittens here with a flying hoof when Sarah led her out this morning, poor pussy” She reached out and stroked the cats head. “I’m pretty sure it was deliberate, too, poor Mittens, just because she was in range!”
“Wretched pony, I can't abide any cruelty to animals” Mandy flashed an angry look toward the big open doors of the stable and the duo in front. She caught the surprised expression on my face at her words and turned sharply to me. “An animal cannot understand why you are cruel to it, nor is such ever necessary. Whereas my ponies fully comprehend such cruelty. They suffer because they have been lazy, disobedient, or slow to learn, so feel the whip to correct their misbehaviour. Likewise, they know that they can writhe under my lash purely for the amusement and entertainment of their owner!”
Her expression changed, and the radiant smile returned. “Well, either my lash or via one of these sweet girls”.
Suzy promptly giggled. “Oooh. I dunno about sweet! Not sure any of the ponies would agree with that, Ma’am!”
Mandy laughed, beckoned me to follow and fondly ruffled Suzy's dark hair in passing. “I meant you’re sweet to me, dear, but I don’t pay you to be sweet to my animals, do I?”
“This is Sarah and Isabella”, Mandy doing yet another introduction as we approached the substantial stable doors. “Sarah is my Stable Mistress, and the animal on the end of that training pole she’s holding is Isabella, the newest addition to my stable”.
“Hiya,” said Sarah gripping my hand in a firm clasp. “Suzy being cheeky, is she? Maybe I should take her to my room this evening and put across my lap again!”
“Ooooh! Promises promises,” Suzi giggled, stuck out her tongue and then promptly returned to the magazine she was sharing with Judith.
Mandy was watching them. “Shoes, boots, outfits, or just the pretty models, I wonder?”
“Probably the whole caboodle knowing them”, Sarah sighed, “they can have another five minutes in the sun then put their exotic or erotic thoughts on hold and finish the mornings shit shovelling!” Sarah chuckled and added, “Instant reality check. Especially as we have a couple of loose ponies at the moment, and I don’t mean off the lead rein, either!”
Sarah was about my age, I judged, maybe a year or two older. A sun-bronzed ash-blonde sporting a short ponytail. Not classically beautiful the way Mandy was or pertly pretty like young Suzy behind me but attractive in a round-faced, rosy-cheeked, country girl way with vivid blue eyes. She was also the most robust member of Mandy’s team that I’d met, like a shapely female shot putter but definitely of the lesser rather than, the greater muscle-bound Amazon category.
That did not mean she lacked muscles, for she had no difficulty controlling a wildly resisting ponygirl who glared at us with moist angry, hate-filled eyes while kicking and struggling in her restraining harness and shrieking unintelligibly into her bit. The ‘training pole’ that Mandy had mentioned was an aluminium tube about six feet in length, a handle on one end with a strap looped around Sarah left wrist where she gripped it. The other end had a hook that twisted through one of the metal D rings on the ponies posture collar.
I took immediate note, for that was why I was here, to learn. Well, that what I told myself anyway! A lightweight but straightforward device whereby Sarah had complete control of the struggling animal, easily holding it at length, pulling or pushing as necessary. The pony could kick out as much as it wanted, but its handler was perfectly safe, unlike the ponygirl. Sarah had a short whip in her right hand, and the pony was covered in long thin red weal stripes of bruised flesh.
“Sarah is an excellent tenderiser of fresh meat,” Mandy said approvingly. “Hardly broken the skin anywhere yet more zebra looking than a pony right now! Hold her tight, please, Sarah.”
Sarah twisted her arm slightly, tensioning her hold as the enraged ponygirl struggled and kicked impotently out at her, then sensing someone behind her, attempted to backheel and stomp. However, unable to turn her head, such clumsy efforts were easily avoided by someone as experienced as Mandy.
Mandy pointed, and I watched as Sarah promptly walked her frustrated captive backwards towards an old tree stump and positioned her in front of it, thus thwarting her flailing kicks in both directions. Mandy’s crooked finger wagged again, and Sarah pushed her captive back so that she was bent slightly backwards hard against the stump, struggling to keep both her footing and balance. Then the commanding finger turned in my direction, beckoning me to join her.
“This angry mare,” Mandy told me as she put her left arm around the ponies waist and pulled her close. At the same time, her right hand began to fondle the helpless wriggling pony, “is fresh from the wild and seems to entertain the foolish impression that it will be released to return there, as if,” she snorted.
I stepped closer for a better look. The pony certainly was wild, I’d seen that same look in the eyes of my Beauty, likewise the same frantic struggles, but this one appeared far more feisty. Heavens was she angry. The old expression ‘if looks could kill’ was nowhere near appropriate for what that wild beast would do to us if she escaped.
I realised she was more woman than girl; hence the term mare, tall and full-figured with a very short mane of auburn hair. She was seething with rage, drool streaming from her tightly bitted mouth flying everywhere. Her struggles were in vain held jointly by Mandy and Sarah, yet she didn’t stop for an instant, twisting every which way in a futile attempt to escape.
I noted with a bit of surprise that the harness tack on her was somewhat worn, old, scuffed from many years of use. Boots, bridle, body harness and armbinder, but no corset had been fitted such as the ponyboys had worn, I noticed. Her white belly bulged slightly outward underneath her ample breasts, and the stretch marks from one or more pregnancies very visible. Nor had her pubic hair been shaved surprisingly, recalling what Mandy had insisted I must do to Beauty.
Mandy was alternately squeezing squirming buttocks and beasts or running her palm over belly and accessible pubic area, very much enjoying herself judging from her cruel expression. Her head moved closer, and her lips nuzzled the woman's ear and gently licked an action that prompted even more frenzied movement and incoherent outrage. I caught the expression of fury and shock in the woman's eyes as her head twisted frantically from side to side. The muted sounds suddenly changed more to muted sobbing pleas than hysterical screams.
“I don’t think she’s over keen on you groping her big tits”, I observed.
Mandy laughed, gave the nearest ear another quick kiss and released the woman delivering a parting slap to her squirming bottom. “Immaterial, I’m afraid from now on what the animal likes or dislikes. The whip will crack, and it will obey. Choices and decisions are no longer an option. By the way, Honey. Ponies have udders, and maids have tits!”
“Enough?” Sarah held up the short whip and looked quizzically at her boss.
“I think so. I gather the pony was a little troublesome earlier?”
Sarah snorted and waggled the whip. “When did one of these animals ever give me any trouble. I know what you said, but I thought a little taster wouldn't go amiss. It might make things a trifle easier when grooming if the animal has a basic understanding of what we can do to it. Those marks will fade soon enough. Hell, they were only little love taps, of a sort!” she snickered.
Mandy nodded. “Well, I did say use your own judgment, but I want her pristine when the time comes. Just see to the basics when grooming and impress upon the other girls; it's strictly hands-off. I’ll be angry if I find out they’ve been over-familiar with this animal. They can indulge themselves if or when its new owner gives them such permission. Hitch the beast out in the paddock for the rest of the day. It can learn to shit in the open air and contemplate the future such as it is ”.
“Okay, Boss. I’ll keep a special eye on that one” she nodded in the direction of the unwitting Suzy preoccupied with her magazine. “a penchant for amusing her self with fresh meat!”
Mandy laughed. “Well, nothing new there, well all share that particular proclivity, but this one is special. There will be time enough later for it won’t be going on to any other stable. Oh, total change of subject, as everyone is a bit overworked, enthusiastic though they may be! I’ll give Sandra parole; she’s done what, nearly five weeks?”
Sarah nodded. “I don’t think Sandra will be careless again. No way will she put her self back into a situation where young Suzy can play with her to her heart's content! No way,” she laughed, and Mandy joined in.
I smiled politely as one does when you don’t know what the joke is, but you feel it somehow the correct thing to do. Mandy noticed and smiled at me. “Come on, let us go look at my little herd. Oh, Sarah, lunchtime, I’ll take Alice, and our guest will take Jessica out for our picnic spin”. Mandy took my elbow and steered me through the open doors and into the enormous stable building's cooler interior.
It was I decided, as Mandy had said, a pleasant well-illuminated comfortable environment to work in, even if it did have that intoxicating reek of captive human animals that instantly assailed my nostrils. I’d already become accustomed to such and took a perverse pleasure in the aroma every time I encountered it.
Big and airy, with a glass roof way above our heads for two-thirds of the length. I could see stalls, old red brick ones with wooden half doors at the far end and partway up one side where they joined more modern ones. There were a few larger stalls down to the left, along with numerous other rooms nearby. Between the stalls and the rooms was a long space with tiled walls, steel basins and multiple showerheads.
The floor was a mixture of sand and sawdust mixed with other similar substances that I couldn’t identify but felt soft and pleasantly spongy beneath my boots. A waist-high wire fence surrounded a rectangular enclosure in the centre occupied by at least half a dozen loitering ponies. Nearby were several giant-sized hamster type wheels and a giant rotating walker with long tethers dangling from six arms, and a smaller one with four. At the far end, past the enclosure, I could see numerous coloured poles and stands stacked that looked like those you’d see in a showjumping arena. Beside them were a couple of lightweight two-wheeled carts, and I realised that the area around the rectangular corral could be used as a small indoor carting track.
“Incredible”, I muttered, looking around the spacious facility with a degree of envy.”
“Nothing else like it in the country,” Mandy said proudly. “You’d have to go to some of the Arab countries to find a similar indoor setup. You can’t imagine the thrill I get just walking in here. Well, maybe you can on a smaller scale ”.
“It's awesome, Mandy. It's like the interior of a cathedral, all the light from those high windows, the feeling of airy space, that particular atmosphere that is almost tangible as to purpose.
“Mmmm. One of my other visitors said something similar. A cathedral of cruelty was her description. A trifle melodramatic but perhaps accurate”.
“My God, you were persuasive with your mother in law, and new husband, weren’t you! This must have cost a fortune to build, and what did the builders and architect think?”
Mandy laughed. “An enhanced stable and indoor practice area, silly. What else. The existing ponies were kept elsewhere during construction. It's basically only an adapted ‘off the shelf’ standard agricultural building with a few interior add ons. The major difference is the big upstairs apartment we had built down at the far end where the glass roof stops. The girls all live up there. I could have housed them in the main house, but they prefer being over here.
“Away from Madams beady eye”, I suggested.
“Something like that. A greater sense of freedom to come and go as they please, although the going is rarely further than the village, pub, fish and chip shop and the curry house! See the balcony; they like to sit out there and survey those they have dominion over. It's delightful when the sun is out like today, and the roof panels are open.
I was still gazing about me. “I’ve met, what, four of them? I suppose you need a lot of help in the stable?” I was thinking of the time I had to spend every day grooming and mucking out Beauty.
“Six altogether. Five plus Judith”.
“Six! Wow. That’s what two, no three ponies each approximately?” A generous ratio, I thought, if they were all residential and employed full time.
“Mandy shook her head. “Nope, more like five to a girl most of the time” Then she laughed, presumably at the puzzled expression on my face as I did the maths and came up short from what I knew.
“Including Isabella, I have twenty-eight ponies stabled at the moment she said, then giggled. “My, you look as though I have just thoroughly gasted your flabber!”
I arched my eyebrows in response. “Mrs Montague Smythe, you are one hundred per cent correct in that assumption!”
Mandy grinned delightedly. “Oh, by the way, I didn’t mention it, and you didn’t ask, but my housekeeper is not a relation. Not that I am aware of anyway. Pure coincidence. Pony wise, I believe I did tell you, though, that Bob and I owned sixteen ponies between us. We can house up to forty here if we wanted or even squeeze in a couple more. I have even got my eye on another at the moment” she paused and smiled. “Greedy, aren’t I?”
“Very, I feel a positive pauper with my singleton. The others then?” I queried, stepping aside to let Judith and Suzy scurry past. They both disappeared into one of the side rooms.
“Sarah has her own pony stabled here, an ex-girlfriend who made the mistake of cheating on her with a guy. Not sure what she did with the guy, but ‘Bethtrayer’ is now occupying a stall and permanently plugged with the most enormous dildo’s Sarah can find. If the silly girl wanted cock Sarah ensures that she’s never short of one now” Mandy chuckled.
“Bethtrayer?”
Mandy nodded. “Most owners, well nearly all of them, give their ponies a new name as you did with your Beauty just as my Bob does with his boys and their flower names. I’m more practical. If a pony has answered to one name all its life, why change it? Bob and I occasionally argue on that point. He feels it a necessary aspect of the animal's lifestyle change, retains nothing from the old. My argument is that it is infinitely more humiliating for the animal to live its new life with the same identity!
“I see,” I told her.
Sarah was, of course, aware of that, and as the pony was previously called Elizabeth, she compromised slightly, so she adapted Betrayer to Bethtrayer! I gather she toyed with the idea of Judas to Judy but settled on keeping the Beth part. ”
I shook my head. Sheesh, this world of my new friend, unbelievable!
“You’ll meet the pony soon, mind you; I charge the lass for stabling and food,” Mandy said, then laughed. “No, only kidding, what's one more pony when you have sufficient room, and our menu is not exactly haute cuisine! What do you feed yours on, by the way?”
I shugged. “A bit of this and a bit of that, I’m still experimenting.”
“KISS”, Mandy replied firmly. “Kiss principle. Keep it simple stupid. That would be my recommendation. Don’t over complicate. Ponies lead very tedious lives, and a monotonous but healthy diet is a part of that. Treats are to be earned and used sparingly”.
“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind. But the others?”
“Liveries, I take in ponies for those owners that lack an adequate facility to keep or exercise such animals. Some I just stable and exercise, others I also train. It's lucrative but not in a significant way. The main advantage is that it adds more variety for the girls and me. The owners come along and use them regularly, which is also lovely for us to have some appreciative visitors. Come on, let us start the grand tour.”
“Isabella,” I said as we walked towards the first stalls. “The pony outside, you mentioned owner, I take it she is one of those?”
“This is the washing and grooming area” Mandy stopped and pointed to the tiled area. “Isabella, heavens no, she is a very special pony. A very special pony indeed. You recall what I said about Sally, the bullying she suffered?”
“Of course, poor girl.”
“Well, that creature outside was one of her chief tormentors when she was at the private school her parents organised after the local schools failed her. It was a very expensive, exclusive boarding college for young ladies, where crap, like she was subjected to, shouldn’t have happened. The poor kid loved the place, but the constant bullying got to her, and she was withdrawn and homeschooled eventually. Bob is very fond of Sally as I am, so Isabella is going to be stage two of her therapy, the bitch!”
I looked back towards the two open doors and thought of how Sally had treated those two massive brutes, and I shivered.
Mandy put a finger to her lips in the classic gesture and said, “It’s a secret, so don’t tell. Her birthday is coming up very soon, and we have the perfect present for her. It took ages to find the right gift and then a small fortune to arrange for it to be securely brought over here. We had four names for our agent to track down, and he found them all, but Isabella was the ring leader of that nasty little group. Australian, her father, was something to do with their embassy over here back then. Well, I told you that Aussies make good ponies if you like plenty of fighting spirit, and that mare is full of it.” Mandy stopped and then added with an evil smirk, “for now anyway!”
“S’cuse, please”, Suzy scurried past, pushing a wheelbarrow followed by Judith with another, and as we stepped to one side, another question occurred to me.
“Isabella, why all the tatty old stuff? I mean, some of that kit you have strapped on her looks a bit the worse for wear if you don’t mind me saying so!”
“No big deal”, Mandy gestured with a thumb back to the area we had just walked past. “Tack room, lots of kit in there, some old some new. I have a complete outfit coming from that German company I’m involved with, and all made to measure down to the last millimetre. Going to fit like a glove, a very tight glove,” she laughed and added, “That tat is just a temporary measure to get her in the grove as it were. We can’t exactly cover her in fancy wrapping paper, not easily anyhow, so I’m reversing. Instead of unwrapping her present, Sally gets the fun of wrapping it up in all the tight new gear, neat, huh?”
I shook my head in admiration. “As I said before, you truly are a wicked woman, Mandy!”
Mandy laughed. “Payback time in full with bells and whistles and long overdue. Yes, what is it, dear?”
Judith was hovering respectfully, a pitchfork in one hand. “ Poppy, I thought perhaps I ought to remind you, Madam”.
“Ah yes, quite right, Judith, that wretched animal had slipped my mind. Let us attend to that inept beast first, and then you will be free to get one with all your remaining chores. Come on; it has had long enough to contemplate its many failings. Judith, kindly go fetch your cane!”