A Tale Of Two Families

Chapter 24

Although the dawn chorus of bird song was in full swing outside the stable, inside, it remained in virtual darkness as Jenny lay in growing discomfort on the pile of now flattened straw in her stall. She’d slept fitfully throughout what had seemed an endless night and now lay fully awake, dreading what the coming day would bring. Or rather who the new day would bring!

It would bring Eva, that nasty little blonde brat who claimed ownership of her! Ownership for fucks’s sake, like she was a piece of property, a possession or some sort of slave! Jenny stared up into the darkness at an unseen roof and knew that her plight, her fate was far worse than that of any enslaved person she’d ever read about. The foul stench in her nostrils told her that was true. That same stale animal reek she’d woken to back at that other place where they’d first bound her naked body in this ridiculous leather harness that rendered her virtually helpless. The wretched outfit which she now wore twenty-four hours a day regardless of any hygiene considerations! 

That awful morning after the long journey when she first became aware of just how crazy, how cruel these evil people could be and the bizarre fantasy games they played. Then that same morning came the dawning horror and realisation that the sadistic perverts played no games and that everything she saw and heard was real, a living nightmare that was no make-believe fantasy. It was a  perverse reality into which she’d been forcibly thrust and from which there appeared to no hope of escape! Not that she’d fully appreciated the latter fact during those first few terrible days! 

It hadn’t been bird song that had awakened her that first morning but rather a loud crack and a scream of agony. Weak, tired with the residue of the drugs they’d used still lingering, Jenny had been roused from fitful sleep by a sound that would become all too familiar in the coming weeks. The sickening smack of a whip upon some hapless victims body! Jenny had opened her eyes as the strange sounds repeated, and memory swiftly returned to her. To where she was, why her hands were secured behind her back, and why her body ached all over from spending the entire night lying down in the dirt! 

Then again, as she rolled and wriggled on the dirt floor before slowly struggling to her feet. Did she know anything other than why her body ached from a very uncomfortable night? Why she was tethered and chained to the walls like an animal. Jenny caught sight of where she’d soiled the floor of her enclosure the previous night, finally surrendering to the urgent need to relieve the pressure on her bowels had reduced her to squatting in the dirt like an animal! Her cheeks reddened at the thought, partly due to embarrassment and partly through sheer frustrated anger at her stupid predicament.

Her vision was still limited by being restrained in the stall rather than being able to approach the low entrance door. Still, she could now see the source of the noise that had awoken her, and her jaw dropped in astonishment. That initial incredulous look quickly turned to horror at the scene involving the figures in the space between her enclosure and the one opposite. 

She now realised that two more cracks in quick succession were the sound of a short whip hitting flesh, human flesh. Two women and a man were struggling, or so she initially thought for a brief second and then she realised it was only the man who was struggling, and her eyes widened in amazement. She could only see the upper parts of the man, but he was naked, bar a sort of wide leather belt around his torso, a very odd high collar and thin straps around his head, plus some sort of leather straight jacket that held his arms behind his back.

“Still, you fucking beast, still!” a harsh faced blonde with short-cropped hair snarled. She held a leash that led to his head, pulling him along like a reluctant dog. At the same time, another sour-looking woman swung that short leather whip again to encourage him, swung it hard so that Jenny instinctively winced in tandem with the muted squeal the man emitted. Jenny, her vision hindered by the front of her stall, couldn’t see where that blow had landed, but she could guess, and whatever dwindling hopes she’d harboured about this whole crazy business had evaporated as that whip rose; then descended in a savage blow! There had been nothing light or held back. That blow had hurt, hurt poor the man badly and was intended to hurt!

The lights in the building suddenly came on, interrupting Jenny’s unpleasant recollections and jerking her abruptly back to the present, which was unlikely to be an improvement on that first awakening! An impression confirmed almost immediately as her blinking eyes adjusted to bright light. Jenny saw someone looking at her over the door of the stall, it was Eva, and she didn’t like the expression on the young girl's face one bit and unthinkingly started to shuffle herself backwards.

“Well, well, what do we have in here?” Eva smirked as she opened the door and entered, standing hands on her hip and smiling downwards at the restrained older girl on the floor. “Now that's not very respectful, is it pony? Shuffling about on your fat arse in the dirt when your sexy sweet young owner deigns to pay her lowly animal a visit. Not respectful nor very obedient to back away from me like that, especially with that surly disrespectful look in your big pony eyes!”

Jenny stared up at the gloating teenager, her mind seething with humiliation and raging anger combined with the sheer frustration of not being able to leap up and smash a fist into that smug fresh young face. She was helpless, absolutely helpless, and she knew it, and worse, that fucking self-assured little brat knew it! 

“It's still dark outside”, Eva observed casually, almost conversationally, “everyone else is fast asleep, but I set my alarm so’s to get here nice and early”, she yawned and quickly added. “Not that I intend to make a habit of doing so, but I wanted us to have a little time together without any interference or silly suggestions. A little bit of private bonding time, shall we say” she smiled, but there was little warmth in her expression. “I was going to dress all formal for you, you know, you often saw me in Aunty M’s stable when I took one of her ponies out for a ride. The boots and helmet, etc., but then I thought, nah, why bother troubling myself for a stupid untrained animal like you!“ she giggled and added. “Why get my nice outfit all sweaty and stinky poo swinging a whip because my stupid beast is a slow learner. Are you going to be a slow learner, Patootie?” She sniffed the air and added, “Besides the air already smells to high heaven in this stall, pony been going poopy poo again, eh?”

Jenny’s face went bright red with shame, and her fingers twitched in the binder that held them captive and useless. Oh, if only! Her undignified backwards shuffle had taken her as far the rear wall of the stall likewise to the limit of the chains that tethered her to the walls. Even if there had been more space to retreat into, she could not have escaped into it. Not that there were any escape options open to her, and she knew that there was also no way she could possibly overcome the pint-sized bitch in front of her, no fucking way! 

That was so damn frustrating! Ditch the restraints, and she’d have a fist smack in the middle of that mocking face in half a second! She glared balefully up at Eva, who appeared serenely indifferent to the pent-up rage Jenny’s body language expressed despite her undignified retreat. Then again, why should she be concerned given the circumstances? Eva wasn’t the one naked apart from the ridiculous but inescapable demeaning harness, boots and bindings. 

Eva didn’t have her breasts flopping about on show to the world. She didn’t have a horrible leather covered ring in her mouth, turning her into an inarticulate grunting animal, dripping drool everywhere! Eva didn’t have an accessible and shaven mons baring her most intimate bodily parts for all to see, did she? No, and Jenny was acutely conscious of just how vulnerable that horrid depletion made her feel. 

Jenny wouldn’t have regarded herself as a puritan, but there was a bit of the prude within her natural outgoing personality. She’d briefly bared her breasts a couple of times on a topless beach when holidaying in the South of France with a more liberal-minded girlfriend. Even then, those had been brief self-conscious flashes, and she’d spent most of those sessions laying on her belly, exposing her back to the sun, much to her friend’s amusement. Living with them exposed full time was an entirely different matter and not just exposed, but that excruciatingly tight corset tended to give them an additional unwelcome prominence. 

Her breasts were now lacking virtually all support and freely available to whatever Tom, Dick or Harry wanted to lay hands upon them, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it either! Although it seemed more a case of Harriet than Harry as the hands had all been female, that didn’t make it any better. Worse and even more hateful was that her most sensitive private female parts were equally on show and accessible. Somehow, although they didn’t bounce and wobble about, she felt even more vulnerable down there!

If only they’d left her pubic hair untouched! Jenny had been somewhat bushy, never bothering overmuch with herself, not-being much of a poser or a bikini lover. They hadn’t, though, not even a single hair, and the thought of it brought on tears of sheer humiliation, and it was that very same smug little blond bitch that had used scissors and razor on her! ‘Giving her the honour of trimming the hedge’ that what those other coarse women had laughed!

Jenny’s mind flashed back to that other awful place. Not long after she’d watched them drag that poor abused man out of sight, it was her turn. They’d come for her, four of them, one of the crop headed butch dykes, the redhead, Eva, and the short, older woman seemed to be in charge. She was the one who gave the orders anyway. Margret, she learned later, the bitch who owned that crazy establishment and sanctioned every damn cruel perversion practised at the horrible place! The redhead, the one called Heather, her chief henchman or women, was just as nasty, no worse!

Of course, she’d struggled and screamed abuse at them, but that had been pointless with that big ball still filling her mouth, turning everything into incomprehensible grunts. They dragged her out of the stall kicking and screaming, or at least trying to, willing her body into action, going through the motions even though it was a pointless exercise being so effectively muzzled and restrained! 

Although angry, frightened, humiliated and seething with rage, her emotions hadn’t blotted everything else out as she was partly dragged, part walked along to another room. It was as though someone had stopped time or rather slowed it for a brief, terrifying moment as she stumbled along with her captors. The full realisation that she wasn’t the sole occupant of the building, not by any means, as she passed stall after stall on either side. Others were imprisoned just like she had been, naked, harnessed bodies and heads that stared out as she passed. Faceless faces hidden behind a web of straps, most she absently noted with breasts bared to the world advertising their sex and a few more muscular ones without doing likewise but all of them standing mute and helpless!

The next hour or however long it had become a nightmare to end all nightmares, and yet she knew instinctively that the humiliations were only a prelude to far worse horrors still to come. Piece by piece, they had dressed her till she resembled her fellow captives, stablemates she soon realised. Jenny was neither a virgin, but neither had she been overtly sexually active. Like most people, she was not particularly aware of the wide range of sexual perversions and fetishes that existed. Had she been asked, then maybe with a stretch of her imagination, she might have mentioned rubber or leather and the bondage scene. This despite the relative explosion of available material on the subject via the media in recent years. 

Climbing on top of her prone boyfriend a few times rather than adopting the normal missionary position had been the furthest limit of her sexual explorations. Upon one occasion, his clumsy attempt to perform cunnilingus had been instantly rejected with a mixture of surprise and disgust. Jenny wasn’t over keen on French kissing, let alone being intimately and deeply probed by a tongue down there! Sex she found enjoyably stimulating but strictly on her straightlaced and conventional terms!

Prudish and naïve, she might have been, but Jenny was certainly not stupid. The bitches laughed, giggled and chatted as they went about their evil work pawing and mauling her repeatedly as though she had no feelings, no comprehension, no understanding. An old memory had shot into her mind, shopping with her mother in that old fashioned butcher's shop on the high street. Mr whatever his name was complete with an enormous walrus moustache, striped apron and straw boater hat. Watching him slapping and patting away at a big joint of meat, then binding it up with string and lots of knots. That’s just what she felt she resembled. A big slab of beef trussed and ready for the oven!

 Although Jenny didn’t know it, part of her ordeal was still some weeks away. The roasting part! Eva had reminded the group of the terms her mother had laid down while they were tacking the beast up just in case anyone should forget not that it had registered with the struggling Jenny. Patootie was her pony, and she and she alone would be the first to put her mark on its hide once she got it home! Given her struggles, situation, anger, lingering travel drug effects, and general bewilderment, it was hardly surprising that Jenny had missed that conversation altogether. Or perhaps its meaning hadn’t made it past her more immediate priorities of trying futilely to kick the hell out of her captors!

“You do know that good obedient ponies should stand proud and present themselves to their owners when they deign to visit them!” Eva’s voice reminded her of the present.

Her pony's lack of manoeuvring space hadn’t escaped Eva’s eye as the rear wall of the stall stopped the big filly. Stupid animal, where did it think it was going! Eva took a couple of steps forward but not without visually checking that the securing chains and the pony's hobble chain were in place. Heather and Margret had impressed such precautions on her time and time again. Margret had even shown her the long-faded scar on her left calf inflicted by a well-aimed pony hoof boot when she once got a little too careless with what she’d mistakenly thought a very docile broken animal!

Although the wound was long healed, that had been a nasty and painful injury, and she had no wish to experience anything similar. Plus, her Patootie was neither docile nor the least bit broken and wouldn’t be for a long time to come, nor did she desire her beast ever to be overly docile. The longer the creature had a fire in its belly and hatred in its heart, the more fun and satisfaction she would have in her mastery and ownership of it.

Eva looked at her apprehensive pony and felt a surge of pleasure far greater than anything she’d experienced when she’d had her big baby captive in her nursery. That had been uber cool,  immense fun, and she would almost certainly find another candidate for the cot before too long. Indeed she had already given some thought to that on her daily rides while staying at Margaret’s stables. Having a mature man entirely under her control had been fun, but she’d moved on from that, at least baby wise.

A certain extra something she was finding in dominating and abusing her own sex felt far more satisfying to her, so the next candidate for the nursery would definitely be female and younger. Perhaps even around her own age, wouldn’t that be mega cool! Maybe obtain some cute shapely teen and then fatten the little bitch up into a big bouncing cuddly helpless baby. Grab some silly anorexic bitch; hell, there were enough about! Fun in the stable by day and then for the evening and night, nursery and possibly even bedroom, yeah!

Anyway, that was for the future and no point in getting greedy when she had this big fetching filly to train and enjoy. Typically, Eva being the callous little madam that she was spared not a thought for her previous toy now laying uncomfortably in his cage at the other end of the stable. He was no longer of interest, yesterday toy and anyway Alice would ensure he served in a useful capacity and continuing to suffer! She had thought about him briefly while away, but he wasn’t going anywhere, was he? Besides, she could always reacquaint him with Miss Biter and Mrs whenever she wanted, just for fun. Her fun!

That reminded her of a last-minute idea that had occurred to her just after settling the sleepy Patootie into Alice’s car for the journey down to Aunty M’s. Just a passing thought, a suggestion that she’d forgotten almost immediately, but her obliging mother hadn’t, how sweet! 

She approached that simple rack mounted on the wall with its inscription, ‘For use on Patootie only’. She gently ran a caressing finger down each punishing implement, starting with the cane, smiling sweetly at her pony, a now frightened pony. How cool was that, Eva thought.

Heather, the bitch, she knew had done something to her pony, something bad, but she didn’t know what. Something very clever probably for Heather knew a hell of a lot about training two-legged equines as they never ceased telling her, be it Alice, Margret or her sister. Those other two dykes back at Margrets were more there to provide security and muscle more than anything else she’d noted. Muscle and additional cruelty of their own design when not involved in more mundane stable tasks. 

Eva hadn’t liked them any more than they liked her, although doubtlessly, they’d have loved to have dragged her upstairs and inflicted the same treatment upon her that they were allowed to perform on some of the captive animals most nights! The fact that part of her recent education in human equine management was supposed to involve her regular participation in those ‘mundane tasks’ that were an essential part of such management troubled her not one bit!. 

Anyway, she’d done her share, hadn’t she? Well done a little shit shovelling and a few other things when it couldn’t be avoided, and she certainly wasn’t lazy even if those two ugly bitches had complained about her to Margret more than once! Maybe on reflection, she should have buried the hatchet with them as she had recently with Heather, but then Heather had a personality and a wicked sense of humour, whereas those two lesbian zombies, zilch!

Eva’s hand was now caressing the wooden paddle. Water under the proverbial bridge now anyway. There were far more important things to think about and enjoy, like this great gorgeous lump of helpless pony flesh, unmarked and pristine pony flesh. Today was the day she’d been waiting to enjoy! Maybe if she asked nicely, Heather would tell what she’d done that time to quieten her beast to the extent she had when Patootie was introduced to the walker! She’d done something to knock a little of the wind out of the angry beast's sails!

“Ready for your big day, pony?” Eva knew it was wrong to talk to her pony this way; her mentors would disapprove!  However, it amused her to do so; besides, none of the others were yet around to start getting fussy. Giving simple one-word commands to a whip trained, mindless beast was okay, but Eva fully intended that her pony should retain its mind in as pristine a condition as possible and for as long as possible. How else could it possibly appreciate every aspect of the new life she had planned for it! 

Eva smiled down at her angry yet quivering animal. How sweet, it was already looking terrified, and she’d not so much as laid a finger on it, merely fondled the instruments that would impart her authority over the creature. Then again, even if it hadn’t felt them, it had certainly seen and heard them used upon ponies daily back at Aunty M’s place, hadn’t it! Eva unhooked the short braided whip from its hook and shook it impulsively. 

“You know pony, I have never used one of these, so I expect that I’ll need to practice,” she paused and then sniggered, “Talking about expectations, after those few weeks down at Auntie M’s place, maybe you do know just what to expect, eh girl? As of today, the rules have changed a little.” She paused, then giggled. “Make that a lot so far as your pony hide goes, girl!”

*****

As he crawled out of his cage, there were two pairs of boots awaiting the dutiful, submissive daily homage to authority his tongue provided. One a shiny black leather pair and the other a scuffed and very weathered tan. The black belonged to Alice, the others to a pretty red-haired girl who had smiled down at him as though he was something more than the dirt under her feet! A wide, pleasant smile revealing perfect gleaming white healthy teeth.

“So this is Daddy,” the redhead remarked and twisted one leg slightly so that he could lap at the much-abraded heel area. “What do you call him?”

“Dirtbag or shithead or something in a similar vein usually”, Alice laughed. “Eva just called him Baby when he was in the nursery! To be honest, giving him a name never even crossed my mind once I took charge!”

“Harder boy!” the redhead ordered quietly and clicked her fingers. “Don’t be lazy. Let me feel that tongue at work; otherwise, I might feel you were lacking in respect!”

He shivered at her words or rather the hidden threat in them and redoubled his efforts pushing his tongue against the leather till it hurt. She hadn’t shouted or screamed at him, hadn’t sworn or sneered, hadn’t sounded one bit like Alice. Her words had been softly, even sweetly spoken, yet she immediately frightened him more than Alice ever had. A frightening thought in itself! ‘Lacking in respect’.

“You should give him a suitable name,” the redhead observed, pulling back one damp foot and offering him the other. “It’s cute to see an older one; mostly I’ve just trained young colts. No demand for old ones. Strange when you see one entirely in the flesh, so to speak and not tacked up bar that collar and cock cage! Looks kind of cute, almost human,” she giggled.

Alice laughed. “Oh, get Eva to show you some pictures of dirtbag here in his baby outfits if you want to see cute!”

The redhead giggled. “Yeah, I can imagine. I’ll have to stick my nose in that nursery of hers out of curiosity before I go home. She promised to show it to me back at Margets one evening. Anyway, girl, I enjoyed my extra hour in bed, but we’d better attend to our animals. What do you have on the agenda for the man with no name here? ”.

The other tan boot pushed his head away as she spoke, so he instinctively made for one of Alices, Christ, but the bitch had broken and trained him, hadn’t she? He didn’t even think anymore, just fucking did! An almost pristine black one kicked out, a kick not a forceful push making him yelp as it caught him low and painfully in the rib cage.

“Crawl”, Alice commanded and pointed. “Get your lazy butt over to the tack room and start polishing and remember,  I don’t just wany shiny I want mirror finish on everything so we can see our faces, get to it!”

He hastily obeyed, shuffling across the dirt floor on his hands and knees, thankful that he’d been spared anything other than a kick given the bitch was armed with the usual nasty quirt. Behind him, he heard Alice remark to her companion.

“Nope, no chance. That’s a shock collar around his neck, likewise the cage on his dick and balls. If he attempts to stray too far, let’s say he‘s learned better than to even try. Learned the hard way, and I’ve tweaked it up since that bit of silliness! What’s left of his brain might survive with enough with cells functioning to make him useful, but I’m not sure about those dangly bits after they’ve been fried!” she finished with an evil laugh. 

Out of sight, he rose to his feet, found a brush, cloth and polish and started his task. There were a couple of old wooden chairs and a high stool available, but he knew better than to use them. If he did, then that bitch would quickly ensure he wouldn’t want to sit on anything for the next couple of weeks regardless of how comfortable it might be!

He was also hungry, but then he always was, but no doubt some bowl of yuck and kitchen scraps would be thrust at him when they fed all the other unfortunates incarcerated nearby. If he wanted a drink, there was a water trough half filled with murky water along with a generous surface covering of dead insects only a few feet away. He could close his eyes, stick his head in and slurp up as much as he wanted. Initially, he’d cupped his hands and drunk his fill that way until Miss fucking Alice had spotted him and reeducated him on the spot with her whip in what she considered the correct imbibing method for his lowly near animal status!

He'd have to refresh himself soon anyway, for polishing leather harness and tack her way was slow, tedious and involved lots of saliva. The old army way of polishing boots. Lots of spit and a small amount of polish on a cloth and then using his index finger to rub in little circles. Round and round, polish and spit till he got that finish she required. There were several pairs of her knee boots covered in dry mud as usual. They took priority over everything else, and then he’d work on the last lot of pony tack items she’d designated. Lack of time was never an acceptable excuse when it came to cleaning that bitch’s boots!

He was bone tired as well. The bitch had worked him to the point of exhaustion yesterday, and no sooner had he dropped off then it seemed or felt like they were all back clattering and banging about with a new arrival at the other end of the building. The latest unfortunate to fall into their evil clutches, and then this morning the main lights had all been switched on early, very early his body clock told him. He’d managed to blot it out and was soon back in that mental state that was neither complete wakefulness nor full dreamless sleep. It was a curious state that seemed almost eternal while it lasted, a definite blessing in this terrible place of torment!

The screams of agony had dragged him from that limbo likes blissful embrace back to full wakefulness. Christ, did they never let up, even at this ridiculous hour someone was suffering? It was that bitch Eva at work; he knew that laugh, oh how he knew, likewise from personal experience just how cruel she could be. The location of his cage prevented him from seeing what was happening down at that end of the stable building. 

Presumably, last night’s arrival receiving a ‘traditional’ welcome! Whoever they were, undoubtedly female and getting it full on and hard, he’d heard and seen enough floggings not to mention frequently being on the receiving end to know what was happening. He was used to it or as used to it as any civilised human being could be, unlike that poor sod whoever she was. 

You could tell she was new from her frequent protests of indignant outrage, expressed every so often between her shrieks and screams of agony. Like the rest of the stables occupants, he had long since learned that doing similar was just a futile waste of breath and energy that only served to add additional fuel to their insane, sadistic glee.

At some point, those pitiful cries had reached a crescendo of expressed agony and then abruptly ceased. Like every other captive in the stable, he knew why. He had also experienced that blissful state of unconsciousness when mind and body switched off briefly only to wake or be woken so that the terror and agony could continue! However, this one had been lucky, for he’d also heard the door bang closed. He wasn’t to know it, but Eva had decided she was hungry and anyway, it wouldn’t hurt the bitch would it to have a little breather before she commenced round two of day one!

*****

“It’s a pity we don’t have any proper cart tracks like Margret has”, Patricia observed, watching them ready their mounts. Too small an area to do anything, unlike that vast expanse she has, plus all that additional rough acreage to exercise saddle ponies! We are more open and far more prone to nosey parkers despite our relative isolation!”

“You have more space than some places I know”, Heather noted as she swung herself up and into the well-worn saddle on Jezebel’s back and shoulders with an ease born of long practice. Likewise, the way she immediately wriggled her bottom into a comfortable position as her boots sought and found the stirrups on their long straps. The “steady girl” command was unnecessary, as was the sharp tap from her long slim riding crop.  

Habit Patricia noted with amusement walking forward. Heather’s ageing mare hadn’t twitched the tiniest muscle as her owner did what she must have done hundreds of times. True, she’d sagged a bit, bent a little at the knees despite automatically bracing herself to accept the full weight of her young rider, but that was to be accepted. Habit plus, of course, many years of ruthless training!

Heather reached forward for her pony’s short reins, absently patting the beast on the head with her other hand. Her hips were still squirming slightly as she settled into a comfortable position on an aged saddle that had moulded itself to her over the years she’d used it through rain or shine, even snow a few times. 

“Natural security for Margret, " Heather replied, looking down upon her host and resuming the conversation. “Almost two sides of her little empire is bounded by those steep, inaccessible cliffs with rocks below, no boat landing places whatsoever, and the sea is rarely all that calm even in fine weather”.

Patricia nodded and absently reached out a hand to stroke and then fondle Jessica’s heavily whip scarred generous right udder. “Little! Hardly and miles and miles of desolate moorland on the other two sides and no through traffic whatsoever on that miserable track she calls a road! Hell, the nearest road worthy of the name is twenty, thirty times as far as that one back there” she jerked the thumb of her free hand backwards over her shoulder.

Heather laughed. “More like fifty plus times! I remember wondering if I was ever going to get there that first time when I was towing this animal” she patted Jessica again. “Been a few years now, Jez? End of the road farm, at least for one of us, eh girl?”

Patricia smiled as she noted that sudden flicker in the ageing mare’s eyes at the young redhead’s words. The first flicker of anything like emotion she’d ever seen the animal exhibit and her curiosity both about Heather and her mare was no less than that of her friend Margret. 

“I suppose it won’t be quite the same; if you get yourself, a new one will it. Jezebel here was a deliberate acquisition, targeted, I believe was she not?”

Heather gave a loud peal of laughter that did startle her mount so that she had to swing her crop a couple of times, catching its flanks to quell the movement. She grinned at Patricia, showing those gleaming, even white teeth contrasting against her pretty tanned face. Not just pretty but extremely beautiful in a rather windswept wild child way, realising that she’d never once seen the girl wearing makeup of any sort!

“Nice try, Ma’am”, Heather laughed but no coconut today, not at this shy!”

Patricia gave her a rueful grin, then also laughed and turned to see how her daughter was getting on with Midnight. Alice, as usual, refused all offers of assistance. Midnight belonged to her, and she was as fiercely jealous and protective with the massive stallion as was Heather when it came to questions about the girl’s background and ownership of Jezabel. 

Alice had arranged some unused masonry blocks into a ‘mounting point’ to make climbing into the high saddles easier. Or rather, she’d had her work slave do it under her direction, carrying them over and arranging them into a series of steps with a flat platform at the top. A second one had been erected at the other side of the old orchard, and she’d plans for several more to be located in places where they might want to dismount and rest the ponies or merely to stretch their own legs.

Midnight was no docile broken Jezebel whose spirit had been flogged out of her long since. Indeed, looking at that sad mare, it was hard to envisage the creature as ever having been anything other than the well whipped, obedient animal she had become. Who, what, where, when and why? All questions Alice and the others would dearly have loved to know the answers to, but Heather they knew would never satisfy such curiosity. That fact alone raised yet more questions, did it not!

Midnight, however, was no dispirited Jezebel despite his two years of captivity and the recipient of as many cruel beatings as the rest of the stables reluctant occupants put together, well almost! Midnight was once a proud African Prince, the firstborn son of an important tribal chief and senior government minister. A huge glossy, black-skinned Goliath with bulging gym and boxing ring homed muscles. He was an Olympic prospect for his country, fourteen competitive amateur fights, thirteen wins, and one disputed draw courtesy of a suspect ringside judge from a rival tribe. Eleven of those wins has been by knockouts, only one challenger surviving long enough to take a count and then go down again in the next round!

He'd also caught Alice’s appraising eye while attending a London university and foolishly decided she was to be the next willing recipient to sample his sizeable manhood. Enjoyment optional for her so far as his lust was concerned! Unfortunately, as described in an early chapter, his over-enthusiastic and ill-judged enthusiasm proved to be somewhat disastrous in terms of satisfying that lustful ambition. He could hardly be blamed for that oversight, he’d interpenetrated the signs correctly, and they did indeed lead to a bed,  although the bed of damp straw in Alice’s stable was not what he’d envisaged.

However, that would prove only a minor; indeed trivial matter as the full horror of his new life began to unfold, for to Alice, he was to be no casual one-night stand to be used and then discarded. Just as Alice had caught his eye, so had he caught hers, and her use of him would last far longer than a few days or even weeks. Nor would familiarity and boredom lead to casual abandonment, as was his wont with conquests! Likewise, the only one sampling anything would be the once-proud prince, now reduced to being regularly impaled by her sizeable strapon dildos!

Jezebel had long grown used to being saddled and ridden by her owner. To Midnight it was a whole new experience, yet another fresh humiliation heaped upon him when he felt life as Alice’s prize stallion could get no worse. It could, and it had, and with each realisation of that simple fact came new waves of anger and despair along with renewed determination to escape and avenge himself on the young white female who had done this to him. TO HIM! A man. A warrior,  perhaps destined one day to lead an entire nation and to take any woman to bed that he wanted! 

Even after two terrible years of pain and humiliation, that last bit rankled so much that he instantly pushed the thought aside every time it surfaced, given his present impotence! It was unbelievable that he should be in this situation and that he was because of that unimportant, that nobody, that piece of white trash who was barely worthy of an hour occupying his bed! What was that bitch compared to him, nothing, she was nothing, nobody whereas he was……he was the one wearing a cock cage, chains, harness leather and being kept in a stinking stall by the worthless nobody to be whipped and fucked whenever she chose!

Alice would have made a good physiologist in that she had an intuitive knack of knowing just how the minds of her captives worked, and she reacted as necessary without even thinking about it. It wasn’t rocket science anyway when you applied the process to an enraged beast like Midnight! He’d fought her for two years, and that fighting spirit hadn’t diminished or waivered over much. 

This latest phase in the animal’s life she knew would have revived every resentful segment of the big stallion’s ire with a vengeance, and at some point, there would be one almighty explosion. Not even that terrible safety valve, the threat of castration would hold the beast in check once that boiling point was reached. It was just a question of time, and it was just a pity that it hadn’t happened yet, a miscalculation in not forcing the issue earlier on her part, perhaps?

Today would only be her sixth outing mounted on her rebellious stallion, and knowing his fiery temperament, she was surprised that he’d gone this long, which was a pity in one way at least. That indignant explosion at being so used was lurking just below the surface like an imminent volcanic eruption or a long-expected earthquake. Just as in nature, when every fresh earth tremor, each new stream of lava portended the imminent threat his came in the form of each quiver of his body and the smouldering fire in his eyes along with an increasing surliness that transcended anything that had gone before.

Even now, as she adjusted the saddle straps, the animal refused to stand perfectly still, shaming her in front of her friend. A half dozen hard strokes from her riding quirt had served to quiet the beast a little, but it shuffled its hooves about slightly in mute defiance of her order to stay still. Yes, she would have preferred the animal to have had its silly and pointless explosion before Heather's visit so she could have dealt with it in private. Then again, the upside was that Heather had far more experience dealing with such animals hadn’t she and two of them combined could undoubtedly teach the foolish animal the error of its ways!

Heather, to her credit, hadn’t said a word although she’d had Jezebel saddled up in a fraction of the time, and now, she sat patiently talking to her mother. Then again, the number of animals that must have passed through Margret's place since she’d started working there, presumably a beast new to being saddled and ridden, was no big deal! Alice wondered how many had the girl broken in, tugging the final leather tongue through a troublesome roller buckle. “Ready”, she called and waved a hand. 

Heather waved back and flicked her heels against Jezebels hideously scarred flanks and at the same time gave the reins leading to the ponies bit a light flick. No command was needed, not for a pony that had carried its young rider many miles since she’d first acquired the animal.

“Maybe you should do the same as Eva just did, bring that big unruly bastard down to Margret’s for a few weeks”, Heather observed. “We could put him between the shafts of a double seat cart and run him around hard for a week or so, let him get a good taste of it, run some of that truculence out of him, get those splendid legs moving and then saddle him once we’ve got him good and loose. I mean, he’s had fuck all exercise for nearly two years stuck in that stall, has he?”

Alice grunted and nodded. She was about to swing a leg over the saddle when she paused and put her head near that of her bitted pony and whispered. “Let me down today, boy, and like Shylock, I’ll have my pound of flesh by tonight, and we both know where my knife will take it from! Behave or become an instant  gelding, your choice beastie boy!”

Heather gave no indication that she’d heard anything as she manoeuvred Jezebel alongside. Talking to an animal like that Alice knew was a huge NO NO with capital letters in Heather’s book. A sign of weakness, of failings on the part of the trainer or training regime, or both! Alice almost always followed the same rules but occasionally, as today, lapsed into taking a short cut although she suspected she might be wasting her breath. Once something triggered Midnight’s temper, there would be no stopping the subsequent explosion as she knew from past experiences!

Heather had heard, but she wasn’t about to say anything. Naturally, she disapproved, but Midnight was Alice’s animal, not hers or one of those placed in her charge. Had he been, she would have saddle broken the huge beast long ago plus ensured it was a damn sight more obedient, but that’s what she was paid to do, whereas, to Alice, her stallion was a prized pet to be enjoyed at her leisure. Alice had confided her worries during dinner the previous night, and she’d reassured her that it was no big deal and only to be expected at some point.  

It was nothing new and to be anticipated, especially with a stubborn creature like him. It was inevitable and no different from all the other reactions at every initial stage of their training she’d reassured her friend more than once. ‘Look, how many times has he rebelled and tried to fight each new thing you’ve done to him. How many times have you strapped him down and ass-fucked him, for example, and I’ll bet there are still times when he acts up, yes?”

Alice had nodded. Perfectly true, she’d thought, almost every damn time, and she’d lost count of how many times Midnight had been rendered helpless and on the receiving end of that humiliating act. Was he counting, she wondered with a small smile? Perhaps, saving it all up for a vengeful payback that would never happen, silly deluded animal! 

“Ready?” she asked, looking at Heather and grinning. She was taller than her friend, and her enormous stallion towered above Heather’s ageing smaller mare. Heather knew instinctively what her friend was thinking as she looked down at her from her elevated position atop Midnight’s broad shoulders and muscular back. 

Heather promptly poked her tongue out at her friend, simultaneously flicking Jezebel hard on the rump with her crop and kicking her into instant forward movement at a fast trot. “Shit!” Alice swore under her breath, her left foot scrabbling to find its stirrup and her crop also swinging down to bite into Midnight’s broad black glossy flank. “Fuck!” she swore as the sullen animal lumbered ponderously forward in pursuit of that well-trained pony with all the speed of a three-legged elephant pulling a railway engine. “Fuck, fuck and fucking fuck!” The thin whippy riding crop rose and fell continuously as Alice angrily spurred or attempted to spur after her fast disappearing friend.

Patricia watched them go with an indulgent smile. Well, she thought to herself, that ought to have settled one question for Alice. Her oldest daughter had been talking about maybe challenging Heather at some point during her visit to a formal race! Her exceptionally trained but ageing mare against Alice’s big, strong but inexperienced stallion, perhaps with the addition of some embarrassing personal forfeit thrown in for the losing rider, to add a little spice! 

Decidedly ambitious, she’d thought, considering she’d never seen Midnight managing anything other than a rather ungainly walk and wobbling about so severely he frequently resembled someone who’d had one beer too many before heading home!

Patricia grinned to herself. If the girl persisted with that foolish idea, she knew where her money would be going and not on her older daughter's mount, big and strong though it might be! She turned to walk back along the path to the stable to see if her younger daughter needed assistance. She had met Eva a little earlier, looking somewhat flushed and excited, heading back to the house for a bite of breakfast the girl had told her then added with a laugh ‘Anyway, someone, or rather something needs a little break. We’ve been playing with that personal toy collection!’

A series of shrieks sounded louder and shriller than its predecessor, causing her to pause. Perhaps not; it seemed breakfast, and that little break was over and that Eva did not require any additional help.  Probably best not to interfere, let Eva quietly play with her new pony in peace and solitude. Patricia winced as the last shrill shriek sounded, hung in the air before fading slowly away. Cancel the peace and quiet and make that just solitude!