Blindfolded (15 page)

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Authors: Breanna Hayse

BOOK: Blindfolded
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Charlotte took her hand and firmly pulled her into the house. Six servants, three men and three women, stood in wait. Regan could tell that Charlotte had taken great pains to find a perfectly matched team, for all six were tall, with white-blond hair and blue eyes, and dressed in simple, white leather harnessing and white head gear. Each wore bits in their mouths, and their feet were shod with soft, white leather boots.

“These are my special pets, Regan. They don't wear shoes in the house because they could slip on the tiled floor. Greet Regan, my little ones.”

The three men stretched their right legs in front of them and made a deep bow while the three women placed their foreheads on the floor. Regan marveled at the grace in which they performed these tasks, especially in view of their tight harnesses and long, white tails that she knew were held in place by thick plugs.

“Beautiful, aren't they? My Lipizzans,” Charlotte cooed, running her hands gently down the hair of one of the women. “Each of these were hand-picked by me because of their beauty, grace, and intelligence.”

“They are… incredible,” Regan whispered in awe.

Charlotte nodded and clapped, and the six, who seemed very proud and happy to serve, stood before her. She dismissed the team, smacking the rump of one of the men as he pranced in front of her. He paused to whinny and rubbed his head against her arm, shoving her gently. Charlotte laughed and smacked his rump again, ordering him back to work. She beckoned Regan to follow.

“This is my trophy room. I've been taking my teams to shows for nearly twenty years. Every year we come home with a new trophy. There is only one I have not been able to achieve. Can you guess what that might be?”

“Um… does it have something to do with blind training?”

“Yes. My master trainer is the best on this planet, but he can only teach a pony the movements, not give him or her the proper instincts. We even have had vision-impaired ponies in training, and they lacked the spark needed to give a good show as well as follow commands. My gut tells me that you are different.”

“That was only because of Master Jay. He took me to that place.”

“Perhaps, but it was you who allowed it. Did you like being blindfolded, Regan?”

“Not at first. It was frightening. I mean, I didn't know what he was going to do to me, and I felt so helpless.”

“Sit down. Tell me everything you can remember feeling.”

“Well,” Regan took a sip of water that a pony-girl brought to her, “it made me feel the air around me, look for scents and noises that I would have otherwise ignored. I remember feeling the ground change when he stepped closer to me.”

“Other than your senses, what did you experience?”

“Once I trusted him not to hurt me, it became freeing. Without seeing, I didn't have to worry about anything other than my own experience. It felt safe, like a blanket over my head. You know, when you are little and get scared of the dark? I used to pull a blanket over my head and hide under the covers.”

“I used to do that too,” Charlotte chuckled. “My kid brother loved to sneak into my room and try to scare me. I thought if I couldn't see him, he couldn't see me.”

“What a brat! But yeah, you understand what I'm saying. I know mentally that I can be seen, but something in my psyche pretends I can't be. The ostrich-with-its-head-in-the-sand syndrome.”

“Was that a hard lesson for you? Learning to trust?”

“One of the hardest I've ever had. And I am very grateful that I was given the chance to learn it. It changed me.”

“What do you desire, Regan?”

“To stop being so afraid. Charlotte, before Jay kidnapped me,” she said, meeting the woman's eyes, “I never knew how alone I was. I was caught in an abyss of numb existence. I was afraid to feel, so I didn't. I was afraid to be rejected, so I kept myself alone. I came to believe that the only love and acceptance I would ever achieve would be through the persona of my pseudonym.”

“Are you a writer?”

“Yes. Jay didn't tell you? Felicity Fairchilde.”

A look of recognition came across the woman's face. “I’ve read your books! You are captivating.”

“No,
Felicity's characters
are captivating. Her stories are a mask that hides her real face: me.”

“I don't recall you writing about pony play. Did Jay drag you into this?” Charlotte frowned.

“No, ma'am. He
roped
me into it,” Regan laughed. “And I’ve never felt more beautiful and elegant as I did when he decked me in that simple tack. I want more. I want to see how far I can go and if maybe I can win you that trophy.”

“Then, my dearest, you will have it! There are some things we need to do, though. Some things are not exactly pleasant,” Charlotte said seriously. “If you don't want to pursue them, I will understand and promise not to pressure you. I run my stables in a consensual manner. I want a herd that has chosen to be here, because I know they will perform best for me when they are as happy as they are disciplined.”

“What do I need to do?”

“Start by being honest.” Charlotte grinned. “Do you have something you forgot to mention to me?”

Regan wrinkled her nose. “I might have stuck my tongue out at the guard. He was being a bore.”

“He is also one of our trainers. That was not very nice now, was it?”

“No, ma'am… Sorry?”

“Are you
asking
me? Because you certainly don't
sound
very sorry! Your first lesson begins now. With me.” Charlotte pushed her chair away from the desk and patted her long thighs. “Position yourself, pony-girl. Disrespect is the same thing as kicking.”

Regan reddened, realizing Charlotte's intent. She bit down on her lip and slowly walked over to the woman, carefully draping herself across the strong lap. Charlotte lifted Regan’s skirt and chuckled,

“No panties over this well-spanked little bottom? It looks like your previous trainer left a nice impression on you. Good, then you will have no problem feeling this.” Charlotte grazed her hand over Regan's bruises before releasing a rapid fire of hard, targeted swats to Regan's delicate sit-spots.

Regan gritted her teeth, trying to take her punishment in silence, but Charlotte's hand was strong, exact, and relentless. In moments, Regan was begging for forgiveness and promising to be good, respectful, and to behave correctly.

Charlotte was deaf to Regan's words, watching as the bruises blanched in purples and reds as she reinforced her power as the stable mistress. She felt Regan exhale and accept her discipline, and she finished up with ten sharp cracks of the riding crop. By then, Regan wept quietly but remained in place.

“I think some hitching time would be appropriate right now. On your hands and knees, with your nose in the corner. Now, reach behind and spread your bottom. Stay there until I dismiss you. Humiliation will teach you obedience, darling girl. Do you have anything to say?”

“No, ma'am.”

“Are you certain?”

Regan took a deep breath, “May I be blindfolded?”

“No, you may not. This discipline you will receive without the protection of darkness. Do you still want to pursue this training?” Charlotte asked, looking into the woman's red eyes.

Regan bit her lip and slowly nodded. Charlotte kissed her forehead and pushed her towards the corner, not missing the evidence of wetness between Regan's legs.

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

Regan wiped the palms of her hands against her skirt as she waited for Charlotte to return to the study. After her release from the corner, the two of them had shared a light lunch of salad and blueberry-oat muffins while Charlotte continued to quiz Regan on expectations, goals, and personal needs.

Regan surprisingly found herself opening herself up to the woman. She felt comfortable in her presence and relaxed as she shared her excitement about being bound and controlled. Charlotte reassured her, emphasizing that her safety and that her needs would be the upmost priority. She also promised that Regan would never be left blind without a watcher.

“Are you certain you want to do this, Regan?”

“Yes. I'm scared, but fear is not going to kill me.”

“Very well, then. I will process you to the vet for an exam. He will also pierce you.”

“Pierce me? Uh…”

“Yes. It is fast and a little uncomfortable, but much less painful than a brand.”

“A brand? Charlotte…”

“It's Mistress now, Regan. Because you are not technically mine, I won't brand you until you ask me to. However, if someone chooses to purchase you, he or she will have that right.”

“Purchase me?”

“This is a lifestyle, Regan; one that my herd takes very seriously. You will have a lot of time while you are trained to make some decisions as to where you would like this lifestyle to take you. Being owned will guarantee that you will have someone there to care for you, train you, and show you off. I am careful with my sales, too. I will not allow my show ponies to be sold as cart horses, or my cart animals sold as plow horses. I also do not believe in stabling my ponies except for punishment. I will give you this contract. Take your time and read through it. Everything is explained, and you can always call me and ask any question you have. You can have as much time as you need.”

“If I sign it, am I bound permanently to it?”

“The only permanent declaration is in keeping quiet about this place and the events. It is not to protect me, but to guard the others who do not want to be known to the world. We have to watch out for ourselves.”

“I understand that completely.”

“Everything else is basically information and counsel. If you sign under my stable, I ensure that all your pony needs are taken care of, including medical treatment, tack and gear, and expenses related to training and shows. In addition, you receive eighty percent of your show winnings. I'm not interested in making money off my ponies. I'm in it for the glory.”

“I've never won anything in my life, Mistress Charlotte. Do you really think I have a chance?”

“Yes, but please read and think about it. I don't want you to feel as though you are being forced to do something you are uncomfortable with.”

“I will. Thanks.”

“Oh, and one more thing. You need to understand that if you agree to be sold, your owner will brand you, and you will be his or hers for life. I take ownership very seriously, which is why I don't often hold auctions.”

“But I have that choice, right? What if I don't want to be owned?”

“You always have a choice, honey. But you need to know that rental ponies don't last very long in the ring. You need to discover what you want from this. And I am always here to talk with you.”

“Thanks, Mistress. For everything.” Regan smiled gently, allowing herself to be caught into the affectionate embrace of the other woman.

 

* * *

 

Regan eyed the phone number scribbled on the paper as she perused through the thick contract. There were so many things to think about.

Sighing, she placed it next to her desk and picked up Meow. “Let's take a walk,” she whispered into the warm fur.

Meow snuggled next to her as Regan slowly walked up the smooth path to her favorite spot. The night was dark, and stars speckled the sky, shadowed only by an occasional owl. The crickets chirped in waves around her, and the howl of a coyote in the far distance pierced the stillness. Meow dug her claws into Regan's breast.

“Ow… Shhh, it's not going to hurt you. Hey, I don't need you piercing me before I'm ready,” Regan whispered, calming the little animal. She heard her words and realized that, yes, she would go through with this. For her. A realization struck her, and she opened her laptop.

 

All my life,
she began
, I was the little girl on the playground who sat alone on the swing and watched. I didn't move, afraid to explore the area around me like the normal children, afraid to get too close to that fence that protected the others from the oncoming traffic, afraid to peek over that same fence and see what was on the other side. No. I sat, not swinging, just watching as the other children lived normal lives and faced normal consequences.

The night that Master Jay took me, he forced me to go past that fence and kept me safe as I saw the world for the first time. Through the eyes of blindness, I discovered a world in which people lived, loved, and enjoyed. He showed me that I had a choice: do I stay forever chained to the swing set by my fear, or do I take the risk and explore the world beyond?

Am I willing to face the consequences of climbing over that fence? My decision to join Mistress Charlotte's herd says that I am. Because of Master Jay, I have learned the joy of living and am no longer quite as frightened when it comes to life. I know that when he comes to me again, I will embrace the unknown fearlessly and with pride.

 

Regan sat back and smiled, finally free of the chains that had bound her heart and body.

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