Jay’s eyes widened. He threw the crop to the bed and, without hesitation, plunged his throbbing shaft into her wet and waiting bottom-hole. She neighed loudly as he sunk deep inside of her, his excitement at her response greater than he could have ever anticipated.
He rode her hard, passionately, holding her body tight against him as his organ stroked every inch of her inner sanctum. He felt his pressure building and reached in front to play with her swollen nub. Regan snorted when his fingers made contact with the demanding little protrusion, encircling it and massaging its growing little head.
“Come for me, pet. Come now!” he barked, gritting his teeth as he felt his cock swell.
Regan lifted her head, releasing a loud animal sound as he shot his seed within her. She rose up on her hands, pushing her bottom roughly against him as the orgasm shook her body, stealing her breath and leaving her covered in a fine, glistening layer of sweat. He emptied himself within her as she made a final push against him, and they both froze in space and time, joined.
* * *
Regan sighed, looking at the ceiling of her own cabin and reaching to stroke Meow’s face. The kitten snuggled against her, purring loudly. Regan was home, yet something had changed within her. She had hope now. She knew that there was someone waiting for her and that all she had to do was find him.
She grinned as pain shot through her while she sat up. She did not have to look at her bottom to know that it was a mass of bruises and welts; markings that she carried with pride. She mused about the strength she felt, despite the heaviness of her heart. It was a new day, and she knew exactly how to begin it.
She found kitten food left by Jay, along with two little bowls. Once again, she was deeply moved by his thoughtfulness. After feeding Meow (she still chuckled at the silly name she had given the kitten), she made herself a cup of coffee and gingerly sat down at her computer.
Dear Kennedy,
I have had a couple of days to think about some things and have decided that this next book will be written for me. Not for the fans, not for the company, but for me. It is called… Searching for Master Jay…
Regan
No, not Felicity. Not this time. Regan sipped her coffee and began to write.
* * *
Several hours later, Regan stood slowly to stretch her back. She was still sore from the previous day’s activities, and she wondered if she would ever grow accustomed to them. Grabbing her cell phone, she walked outside and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and applied her new-found skills, picturing her environment by using her senses, and she shivered.
Was she being watched?
* * *
Jay ducked behind a tree as he saw Regan turn in his direction and wave. He chuckled quietly as she disappeared up the steep hill to the tree lines and then approached the cabin. Surprised to find the door unlocked, he slipped inside carrying with him a large vase of Bearded Irises and a box of chocolate-covered strawberries. Regan’s laptop sat open, catching his eye. He glanced at the contents, and a trill of excitement rushed through him as he read the intimate details of the adventure they had shared and how she had felt by his presence.
Jay rubbed Meow's little head, thinking. How could he ensure her next move? Ahhh! He scribbled his cell number down on a notepad and drew a little stick figure picture of a blindfolded pony-girl.
* * *
“The game is on, Jay,” Regan chuckled, picking up the note as she twirled a flower in her hand. “If you think I'm going to find you, you are fooling yourself. Nope; I’m going to make sure that you keep coming for me… And I think I know exactly how.”
She took out the card given her by Charlotte and dialed. The phone rang several times before the answering machine came on.
“This is Regan. I wanted to know if you still were open to do some training with me. Please call me back when you get a moment, okay? Thank you,” Regan said formerly, not knowing who would be listening to the message and concerned about keeping the other woman safe from prying ears.
She barely sat down to resume-writing when the phone rang.
It was Charlotte. “Hello, Regan. How are you doing, darling?”
“Tender in some places, aching in others… but otherwise well.”
“How is your heart, baby?”
“Well,” Regan glanced at the vase on her desk, “being that someone slipped into my cabin and left me flowers and strawberries while I was out, I would say it will be fine.”
“Oh, he did, did he?” Charlotte laughed. Regan could easily imagine her leaning back in her chair and snapping her crop against her boot. “Did he happen to leave anything else?”
“Yes, a phone number which I will not call.”
“No? Why not?”
“Because, if that man wants me like he says he does, he will have to find me,” Regan chuckled.
“I knew I liked you for a reason! Throw his words right back in his face. Good girl. So, are you really interested in training with me?”
“Yes, ma'am. I can't explain it, but I feel it’s something that I need to do. It took me so out of my comfort zone and put me in a place that I had to deal with. I mean, I couldn't run away or hide… I'm not making any sense, am I?”
“A little bit. When would you like to come in?”
“Just let me know a good time. It isn't like I have much of a life outside of Meow.”
“Meow?”
“The kitten you gave Jay. Thank you for her. She's beautiful and a little doll.”
“You named the kitten Meow?” Charlotte choked out. “You're kidding me.”
“No. Jay said he had a stupid, three-legged dog named… “
“Woof. He told you about Woof?”
“Um, yes. Was there a reason he shouldn't have? I'm confused.”
“Oh, honey, he's got it bad for you. Okay, here is my address. When you get to the gate, ask the guard to direct you to the plantation. Can you come tomorrow, about eleven?”
“Yes, ma'am. Should I bring anything?”
“No, darling. You will have lunch with me, and I will take you around the ranch and introduce you to the staff and the fields. Do you have any questions?”
“Yes. Will I be able to resume blind training?”
“I wouldn't want it any other way, sweetheart! I'll see you tomorrow.”
Regan's hand was shaking when she hung up the phone. She did it! She took a step in a direction she never thought she would. More so, she did it without being forced.
She grinned as she picked up Meow and swung her in a circle before kissing the top of the little cat's head. “I did it, kitty. I used my voice and asked for something I wanted—something that I was scared of. Proud of me?”
Meow just, well, meowed.
* * *
The following day, Regan surveyed her image in the short mirror in her bathroom. She sucked in her cheeks, wondering how she would look ten pounds lighter, and tightened the straps of her bra, wondering how her 'udders' would look a size smaller. She sighed, acknowledging that the udder remark had been deeply painful. Yet, she still chose to pursue this training. Charlotte wanted her there, and the other ponies had been sweet and accepting.
Regan knew it was time to learn to ignore the hurtful remarks and comments of others, but how? Those same comments had paralyzed and isolated her for a lifetime. Maybe Mistress Charlotte could teach her how to ignore them? Regan bit her lip, realizing she had taken yet another step to her personal healing. She had asked someone for their help.
Regan wiped the sweat from the palms of her hands several times during the long drive to the high deserts of Borrego. She was struck by a cool breeze as she drove onto a long, white-fenced road and pulled next to a small guard shack. She was greeted politely, asked to see her ID, and had her name checked against the visitors list.
As she waited for him to call for approval of her visit, she jovially asked if her destination was a horse ranch or a secret government facility. She merely received a humorless, blank look
in return. She stuck her tongue out at him when he turned his back to her, and then smiled sweetly when he handed her the visitors pass.
“When you get to the plantation, kindly inform Mistress Charlotte about your disrespect, madam,” he said gruffly.
“What are you talking about? I've been very polite and patient while waiting here,” Regan asked innocently.
He pointed to the mirror and watched her blush. He had seen her gesture.
“Drive slowly and watch the turns. Stay to the right and don't forget to tell her. If you do well, I promise it won't be forgotten.”
Regan grumbled and drove off. Idiot security guard, she thought. What does he know anyway? She watched the road carefully, surprised to see tall, thick trees springing up and grouping in heavy copses along the valley.
The large, white manor sat proudly in the center of the field, designed like an old southern plantation house, complete with separate buildings and white-fenced fields. The shock of green grass in the midst of summer brown was also a surprise, and Regan wondered how much care and water it took to maintain it. She parked her car in a marked stall and slowly exited, slinging her purse over her shoulder.
“Regan! You made it!”
Regan turned to see Charlotte trotting up to her and then wrapped her with a strong hug. Slowly, Regan returned it, surprised by the woman's warm greeting.
She took a moment to study the older woman. As before, she wore her long, black hair in a tight ponytail that gave her features a sharper, more severe appearance. She was several inches taller that Regan, with long, shapely legs encased in ivory riding pants and shiny, black riding boots. She wore an ivory, buttoned blouse and a black belt that cinched around a tiny waist. At her hip hung a long, black crop. Dark red lipstick adorned her full mouth, and her hazel eyes were simply outlined with black pencil. She was both magnificent and terrifying! Regan felt herself shrinking in the strong presence of the woman.
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, t
argeted 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.
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