A Rough Ride: Pony Girl Training in Latex and Leather (29 page)

What would Redcliff want for the sale of his daughter? That was a mind-blowing equation if there ever was one. OK, so he knew she wasn't his daughter by blood, but there must be some kind of bond between the pair.

Letting out a pent-up breath he didn't remember holding, he let his eyes focus on his beautifully naked, soon-to-be slave. She was pretty as a picture, even in her exhausted, sleep-drugged haze. If he was honest he couldn't wait to have her on his terms.

Running his fingers over her scalp, careful not to look at her back because he knew even with the dressing the anger would hit him full force in the gut, he decided he really needed to focus. Jennifer Redcliff had invaded his mind, and it appeared she was there to stay. He badly needed to fuck her. He'd held himself back because she was in no fit state to play, but it had hurt to refuse her very sweet offer of a blowjob. He consoled himself with the thought that he'd let himself have free rein when she was in his hands for good. Then he'd make her suck him ten times a day, in between the ass fucks, hand jobs, fingering and maybe, just maybe he'd consider making love to her. He shook his head in amazement. Where had that thought come from? The only thing he needed to do was screw her and return to normality with his sanity intact. He didn't have time for this rubbish.

He patted her head a little harder than necessary in order to wake her. It was time to visit the tack room ladies and get her kitted up for her next journey. He needed to put several hundred miles between them as quickly as possible. He needed to think things through. See where he wanted to go with this one. He also needed to get himself some action. Desperately.

'Mmmm,' she whispered groggily as his fingers circled her scalp gently.

'Come on sleepy head, there'll be time enough for snoozing on your journey. We've got to move and get you out of here. Kyle will back in a few hours' time and you need to be gone by then.' That captured her attention and she got to all fours, ready to crawl. 'No, you can use your feet to get to the tack room; it'll be quicker and there's still lots of work that needs to be done to get you ready for your travels.'

Offering his arm and helping to set her upright, he led the way out. It wasn't long before the steep stone steps loomed upwards and he saw Jenny's legs wobble out from under her. It was no great surprise. Mark solved the problem by scooping her up in his arms, bad backs be damned. She rested her head into the crook of his shoulder and he was amused to find he liked the sentiment. Who would have thought it? He was a man who enjoyed nuzzling. He'd do well to keep that information to himself.

When he knocked on the door of the tack room it was quickly answered by a frazzled Agnes, who didn't seem to be faring well in the hot August heat.

Pulling a sweat-slicked tendril of grey hair away from her face, she fanned herself and gave a cross-eyed grimaced to the pair in front of her. 'You'll have to excuse the hair. Hetty broke my air-conditioning.'

'Our air-conditioning,' Hetty corrected, 'and I didn't break it.'

'Hmmph,' said Agnes, narrowing her eyes at her friend, 'then what do you call your disassembling party over there?' She pointed to what once could have been an air-coolant but now appeared to be a train wreck.

'I was just seeing how it worked. I find these things fascinating,' Hetty sniffed.

'Rubbish,' said Agnes, wrinkling up her nose, 'you wanted to see if it had ammonia inside it. I know you've run out and you like to give your boys a spot on occasion before you play with them.'

Hetty's mouth hung open. 'How do you know these things?'

'I'm not as stupid as I look,' said Agnes, trying to nod sagely and failing, 'and I overheard you trying to order some of the stuff yesterday.'

Hetty grumbled, 'Well, if they'd had some in stock I wouldn't have to dismantle our cooling friend.'

'Too bad for you our "cooling friend" is filled with freon and not ammonia, though.' Agnes thumped her on the shoulder. 'I'm really not sure whether it would have been safe to use in any case...'

'Safety, schmafety. You worry too much, darling. Anyway, we've got things to do, people to see,' she sing-songed.

'You've certainly got things to do,' said Agnes, waggling her finger crossly. 'You need to put that thing back together.'

'I love putting things back together,' said Hetty, looking sideways at the vast array of parts strewn all over the room. 'I'll have it figured out in no time, you wait and see.' She gave her friend a bright smile which lacked conviction.

'See that you do, and it had better be before December,' replied Agnes, who was also looking at said parts and pondering how much a repairman would cost. If you broke things at Albrecht you were responsible for fixing them.

Turning her attention back to her guests, she directed her next comment at the trainee. 'Still no yellow collar then, dearie?' She clucked her tongue as Mark led Petal forward into the room.

'Hetty, we might have to put my retirement plans on hold. At this rate I could be eighty before I get my stable full of pony-boys.'

Hetty snorted. 'You wouldn't know what to do with them anyway,' she waved her hand expansively.

Agnes let the corner of her lips twist up. 'Oh, I have a few ideas that might keep them busy. I will have my stable.'

'Sorry, Master Mark,' said Hetty, rolling her eyes. 'She gets a bit carried away sometimes.'

Mark winked. 'I like an ambitious woman,' he said. 'From a distance, you understand, but I like them.' He grinned.

Agnes grunted. 'So, what did you do with Master Kyle?' She looked up at him with a curious expression.

Mark's expression darkened. 'I've had him kidnapped by a gorgeous woman who's going to put fifty thousand volts through him before taking him back to her lair to have her wicked way with him. While he's in lots of rather nasty restraints, of course.'

Both ladies burst into peals of laughter. 'No hard feelings then, Mark?'

Agnes grinned from ear to ear. 'So you get to babysit while Kyle goes out for his date with Isabelle? I bet Kyle didn't exactly agree to that.' She raised an eyebrow mischievously.

'Not exactly, but what Kyle doesn't know won't hurt him. Much,' added Mark for good measure.

'Hmmpf,' said Agnes, her attention already distracted with preparations for Petal's quick getaway. 'Pop her up on the table, Sir,' she said, patting the wooden bench in front of her.

Mark deposited her on the table carefully, and stretched her limbs out just enough that she would remain comfortably stable. Jenny's hands were still shaking. She'd either spied the small metal cage she would be transported in, which rested just below her, or she was suffering from hunger and lack of sleep. He guessed the ham sandwich and energy gel hadn't really managed to fill the hole that had formed in her stomach for the past few days. She had little energy to give and it would take all she had to remain on all fours for the next five minutes. If this session lasted any longer than that she'd be flat on her face. He'd see to it that the ladies moved quickly.

'What on earth happened to her back?' Hetty peered at the dressing in puzzlement.

'Kyle's doing, not mine, and better not to ask.' The look in Mark's eyes discouraged further argument and Hetty simply nodded.

'Do we know where she's going yet?' Agnes tactfully changed the direction of the conversation. She also lived for office chitchat and she'd been dying to find out where the star trainee was headed.

'To a very rich bidder,' said Mark, with a twinkle in his eye.

Agnes' eyebrows narrowed in frustration. 'We had kind of figured that out.' She gave him a pointed look.

Mark grinned at her. 'Fine. Can you keep a secret?'

'Can I ever,' said Agnes, already dribbling at the thought of telling everyone in the staff canteen the juiciest bit of gossip to hit Albrecht in quite some time.

'She can't,' said Hetty, holding two pieces of bent metal in her hands and trying, unsuccessfully, to piece both back together.

Agnes scowled at Hetty and winked at Mark. 'Tell me anyway.'

Mark tapped a finger against his cheek thoughtfully.

'Ooh, don't tease, Sir,' she said, and put half her hand in her mouth, chewing nervously at it, in anticipation of what was to come.

'Leyland Forbes won the auction and he requested an extra night, would you believe? It's supposed to run from midnight to midnight, but Forbes is apparently greedier than most,' said Mark, slanting Agnes a sideways grin.

'Isn't he the pharmaceutical giant? Have I got the right man?' Agnes looked puzzled for a moment.

'Yes, and he's the one who likes painting still-lifes of women in bizarre bondage, I do believe,' said Hetty, now tinkering with a couple of rubber tubes.

'What kind of bondage are we talking here?' It was clear that Agnes' interest had been piqued.

'He works mostly in the wacky fantastic,' said Mark, stroking Jenny's ass in an effort to calm her as Agnes got the wrist and ankle cuffs out. 'Underwater bondage, mid-air, statuesque and mirror maze are just a few of the exhibitions he's managed to accomplish. He's been known to bury them upright to the neck in glass containers filled with nothing more than sand, showcasing tits, ass and hands in a supplicating gesture. He's also famous for mounting them on plinths wearing nothing more than a pair of stilettos and a couple of rather impressive dildos. The underwater ones he creates are superb. I've seen a tank of emerald green seawater with three naked women entwined together wearing little more than the necessary scuba gear required to survive. If you frame that with an exquisite array of marine fish, coral and frayed, hessian rope, Forbes had quite a picture to paint.'

'He must paint very quickly,' said Agnes, who had attached both sets of cuffs to Petal's trembling body and was now fastening a strip of chain in the middle of both that would prohibit her from being able to stand upright.

Mark shook his head. 'He takes a good week or two over most, and sometimes it can be almost a month before he's finished with them.'

Agnes tugged on her connecting chain and was satisfied it was secure. 'Well how on the earth do they...?' she waved a hand to indicate she was looking for some words that were rather delicate in nature.

'Toilet?' Mark grinned. 'They're tubed up from head to foot and a machine takes care of all their essential needs for the duration of their bondage.

Agnes' eyes widened. 'Oh my,' she said.

'For the most part they're paid handsomely for their services and they thoroughly enjoy it. He has ways of making them squirm.' Mark wiggled his eyebrows for effect and Agnes burst into laughter.

'If you say so.' Agnes didn't appear convinced. 'OK, we're ready to insert her plugs. Did you want to play with the wand first and loosen her up a bit, so to speak? I'll use plenty of lube, but some of her own wouldn't hurt. She looks like she's had a hard couple of days, poor filly.'

'That she certainly has. What do you think, Petal? Fancy a round with the wand? This time it's a free-for-all-come-as-you-like deal. Two for the price of one?'

Jenny hiccupped, which might have been a result of all the sobbing she had done, before managing to nod her head. After the last two days he suspected orgasms of any variety were most welcome and the more, the better. She had a lot of catching up to do.

'I'll get it,' said Hetty, who had finally decided to leave the intricate repair of the air-conditioning unit to the experts. It was electrical, after all, and she shouldn't be messing about with such things at her age. It would come out of her salary, but it would be a small price to pay compared to the constant nagging Agnes would bestow upon her every day until it was fixed.

Bustling into her closet she found what she was looking for in an instant: a white Hitachi wand with its power cord wrapped neatly around the base. Grabbing it and unwinding the flex, she zoomed back out into the tack room and found a suitable plug socket. No batteries were needed here. When that was done she passed it over to Mark and settled down to watch the show, because this time Agnes was doing all the hard work. Her misdemeanour with office appliances had consequences, more was the pity, and Hetty was most jealous of the fact.

No introduction was needed for the start of the theatrical pursuits, because the Hitachi's motor sounded like a jet airplane taking off. OK, it was more like a drill, but impressive nonetheless. There was a reason the so-called 'back massager' was the Ferrari of vibrators. It was currently on its lowest setting, but when the thing was on high it was truly incredible.

Petal, who had been almost comatose before the wand came near her, picked up her head and straightened her arms. She knew what was coming. Turning her head a fraction to the left Hetty spied Agnes generously lubricating the larger of the two shock plugs which would be inserted first.

The moment the wand touched Petal her body tensed tightly as if she was almost afraid that there might be another round of orgasm denials, but Hetty knew from experience just how intense the pressure of the wand was, even on its lowest setting. It took a few seconds before she managed to settle into its insistent rhythm and her body began pumping backwards and forwards on the bench of its own accord. Mark hadn't even gone anywhere near her clit yet; he'd focused the vibrations upon the lips of her sex and was slowly working his way towards the apex of her thighs. By the way Petal was moaning you'd almost think he was there already, thought Hetty with a wicked smile.

When the wand finally stopped teasing her inner thighs and labia, Mark upped the vibrations and moved forward. Jenny gurgled and groaned. She twisted this way and that to avoid the powerful pulsing upon her most sensitive organ, but Mark's grip was sure and firm. Within seconds she was gasping. Agnes then begun to pump the first couple of inches of the slim metal plug inside Petal's pussy, and the filly was obviously lost.

'Remember what we talked about, back in the dungeon?'

Jenny remained ominously quiet. They'd talked about a few things. Which one did he mean? Not wanting to put a foot wrong she tried to guess what he was thinking. The expression on her face said it was not the easiest task.