The rain cascaded down, pouring from a leaden English sky to puddle in between the cobblestones of the stableyard of The Lodge - England’s most discreet, expensive and exclusive SM club. It plastered the ponygirl’s hair to her head and made her skin shine in the weak light. Carlo Suarez swung the driving whip across her back one last time, sending a fine spray arcing out from the lash and raising another as it impacted on the wet flesh. Her steel shod sandals clattered and splashed and she slipped a little on the wet stone as she trotted into the yard. Carlo hauled back gently on the reins and brought her to a stop outside one of the stable doors. He climbed down and flicked her across her buttocks with the reins for shaking her head to clear her eyes of rain-soaked hair. Her only duty was to stand motionless as her driver alighted. One of the grooms came running out of the tack room and hurriedly began unhitching the pony. She squealed as he slid his cold, wet hand up the back of her short skirt and helped himself to a handful of warm, soft buttock. But she didn’t stop her work and was able to lead the pony into the comparative warmth of a stall and tether her, clipping her wrists together tidily behind her back, before rushing back out and dragging the trap over to a shelter. Then she scuttled back to the stall where Carlo was busily drying his hair while the pony dripped rain into the growing pool around her feet.
The only good thing you could say about the English climate was that it was nice to get out of it, he thought sourly. A pleasant training run with a new girl in The Lodge’s magnificent parklands had turned into a wet dash for home with no warning at all.
The groom began to towel the pony briskly, making her delightful breasts jiggle as they were dried.
“Make sure you put a blanket on her before you put her away,” he told the groom.
“Of course, Sir. How did she run?”
Carlo realised that the pony’s weren’t the only breasts that the activity was showing off to good effect. The grooms at The Lodge all wore thin blouses knotted below the breasts and very short skirts. It was a uniform designed by the head groom herself to give maximum freedom of movement for the girl in order for her to perform her duties, coupled with maximum availability, should any of the guests or male staff require it.
“Not bad for a new girl. She needs more wind though, had to use a lot of whip coming back up from the lake.” The groom was drying the striped buttocks as he talked. Suddenly he felt he needed warming up too.
“Bend her forwards,” he ordered. The groom smiled at him, unhitched the reins and pulled them down, forcing the bridled pony to bend forwards. Her shoes clattered again as she spread her legs. Carlo glanced down at the soft purse of the revealed sex which promised much needed relief and warmth. New girl she might be, but it wasn’t rain causing the dampness there. He unzipped his trousers, freed his erect cock and positioned himself before sinking smoothly into the pony’s hot and viscid depths, her vaginal walls stroking him softly along his full length. The groom went back to drying her, kneeling down to rub at the legs and thighs, she glanced up at Carlo and he nodded. She reached between the pony’s legs, delved into Carlo’s trousers and began to cup and fondle his scrotum. The pony began to swing and swivel her hips and Carlo sighed in pleasure as he made no attempt to fight the pressure which built at the base of his cock. He pumped hard while the groom milked him skilfully. The pony gave a soft whimper of disappointment as she felt him spend long before her own pleasure had built. Carlo frowned as he pulled out of her and tucked himself away.
“Put her down for a beating tomorrow morning,” he told the groom, jerking his head at the blackboard mounted on the end wall, it was a grid with the names of the ponies currently stabled down one side and, running across the board notes on diet, exercise and punishment. The girl might be newly purchased but she had to learn that any pleasure she might take from the use made of her was entirely beside the point. The pleasure of the Master was paramount.
Hurried footsteps sounded outside in the yard and another groom appeared, Carlo noticed the rain had slackened off to a half-hearted drizzle as he approached the door.
“There’s someone at the gatehouse for you, Sir,” the girl told him.
He glanced at his watch; ten a.m. right on the nose. Good, the lad was punctual.
He shrugged off his shirt as he headed for his office and a change of clothes. “Get Jet harnessed up for me,” he called back.......
Slave’s Honour is reckoned by some readers to have the best pony girl action we’ve ever published. The reader is taken inside the workings of a modern arena stable, and the details of how the girls are trained, stabled, harnessed and broken to the bit are to be savoured by all devotees of SM literature. And on top of all this, there is a thrilling tale of attempted doping and corruption within the CSL stable itself..
