The Filly

by Paul Moore

  He took his time with the nozzle as well, screwing it in and out several times before he finally jammed it all the way in and released the valve. The water was icy cold this time, and the cramping began almost immediately, but she managed to take it all, and hold it as long as she must.

  She hated the fact that he lingered in the room after he removed the nozzle, and hated the way that he smirked down at her as she crouched over the floor drain to release what she could no longer contain. It wasn’t enough that she would suffer later, he needed to humiliate her first, for no better reason than his own entertainment. He filled her again, as she shivered and held back resentful tears.

  “Gotta get that ass nice and clean,” he explained. “I plan to give it a real workout later on.”

  Jenny had been told nothing about when, how, or where she was to be punished. The suspense of waiting in ignorance was maddening. Perhaps that was intentional.

  When Soupcan had her put on her sandals and led her on her leash across the moonlit yard to the main house, she wondered briefly if she had been granted a stay of execution. Certainly the promised punishment would be a public affair, in order to demonstrate to the other girls the price of misbehavior.

  Perhaps Sarah had decided to grant her a private hearing and learn the truth. Maybe Sarah only wanted a chance to explain that the matter was out of her hands.

  There was also a possibility that she had been summoned for a private punishment that would precede the official public one, discharging whatever personal affront that Sarah felt.

  It isn’t justice that is served behind locked doors in the middle of the night. More often wickedness is satisfied there.

  They entered without knocking. The foyer was dim and this time no one arrived to receive them.

  “Wait here,” Soupcan muttered as he removed her leash. “She will be around to collect you in a bit.” By the time Jenny had her sandals off, he was already gone.

  She stood in the darkened foyer wrestling with a terrible indecision. She was alone for the moment and unfettered. Soupcan had collared her and buckled leather cuffs on her wrists and ankles after her shower, a sure sign that she would could expect to be bound soon, but the D rings still dangled free of any connecting links. Unless Soupcan had stationed himself to guard the door from the outside, which was unlikely, she could simply open the door and walk away. She could reach the main road before sunrise. Even if she didn’t hitch a ride, she could walk into Ambleton before the heat of day. Clothing would be her only real problem, and that could be begged or borrowed from the first Samaritan she met.

  She shook those thoughts off. That was just panic, making her stupid. She was no prisoner. Only her own stubborn will and a promise kept her here.

  And Sarah.

  The bedroom door opened, throwing a shaft of subdued light across the vault of the living area toward Jenny. She squared her shoulders and stood at attention, white knuckled fists at her sides. Her eyes flickered over the silhouette framed in the doorway before she dropped her eyes, and what she saw made her quake.

  It was Lady G. She leaned against the door jamb with her arms folded, wearing a silk blouse, knit jodhpurs, and knee high boots. The leather tail hanging from her belt reached nearly to the floor. Her smile was not a pleasant thing.

  “So, it’s my little scrapper,” she said.

  “I’m sorry, Ma’am,” Jenny said.

  I was provoked. She didn’t say that. Her guilt or innocence didn’t matter. Lady G only needed an excuse. Tinka and Dusk had provided one, probably more by design than accident. Sarah was no fool. If she was pretending to believe this charade, Jenny would have to trust her, follow her lead, and ask no questions.

  “Not as sorry as you will be,” snarled Lady G. “On your knees!”

  Jenny dropped to her knees. Now that the moment had arrived, she felt an unnatural sense of calm.

  “Crawl to me.”

  Jenny crawled across the flagstone floor. When she arrived at Lady G’s boots, she bent to plant a delicate kiss on each toe. She knew better than to think that this act of contrition might help her cause now. It was more likely that Lady G was drawing inspiration from Jenny’s degradation, making new plans, getting wet.

  So be it. Jenny would play the role she had been assigned.

  The lash caught her by surprise, curling diagonally down across her cheeks and sinking its fangs into her thigh. The pain was incredibly sharp, cutting, entirely different from the strap that Sarah usually used, which seemed merciful by comparison. Jenny sucked in her breath and swallowed a scream as she clutched the floor and stubbornly pressed her lips to the leather before them.

  She is going to cut me to pieces! Jenny kept panic at bay with a promise to herself. Only her dread of shaming Sarah with a display of cowardice could balance Jenny’s instinct of self preservation. If she was alone in this house with Lady G, she wouldn’t stay. Nothing could make her, but Sarah’s presence would reassure her. She would trust Sarah to protect her from coming to any real harm.

  “I humbly beg your forgiveness, Ma’am!” Jenny surprised herself with the control in her voice. Even speech should have been impossible, when every instinct told her to throw her hands over her injured flank and run out the door screaming.

  “You have to earn my forgiveness.” growled Lady G. “Get your ass in here.”

  Raising herself from the floor to crawl again, Jenny realized that Lady G was really a rather small woman, only inflated by simple arrogance. She was keeping Jenny on her knees because she didn’t want to see the lowly pony girl towering over her. This realization strengthened Jenny somehow, this private knowledge that mere circumstance compelled her to obey a woman who was in many ways her inferior.

  Jenny crawled past Lady G and into the room.

  “Stop,” said Lady G. “Stand up.”

  Sarah was sitting on the bed, looking serene and beautiful in the dim glow of the bedside lamp. Her legs were bent and splayed, and her elbows rested casually on her knees. She wore only chaps and boots. A cigarette burned in one hand, the ash growing unnoticed as she leaned her head back against the wagon wheel headboard. Her face was a grimace of pleasure.

  A naked girl lay belly downward between her legs. The girl’s head bobbed slowly as she lapped Sarah’s pussy. An ashtray rested in the small of her back, and two spent butts already smoldered there. The welts on her ass glowed red.

  Sarah opened her eyes, coughed, and flicked the ash from her cigarette. She stroked the head that was so busy between her thighs and murmured.

  “Take a break. We have visitors.”

  The girl raised her head and looked back over her shoulder, meeting Jenny’s eyes with a rueful look. Even if Jenny had not already recognized her stable mate, (that pert bottom was unmistakable, even marked as it was by Sarah’s favorite form of foreplay.) She should have expected nothing else.

  Looking crestfallen, Button silently mouthed the word Sorry!

  Jenny dismissed her apology with a faint smile and a subtle shrug. If anyone was blameless in this affair, it was Button. Sarah was simply using her. Jenny had been warned that her Mistress was profligate. Expecting fidelity from her would be mere self delusion.

  Yet it stung.

  Jenny had noticed the flush rings bolted to the floor during her other visits to this room, and the matching pair embedded in the beam above. Lady G had stopped her between the pairs of rings, and it was obvious to Jenny that she would soon be bound there. Rising, she widened her stance a bit, in expectation of the next command, then realized that even anticipating Lady G’s orders might become be an excuse for punishment and stood at ease instead.

  Jenny realized that being forced to watch Button with Sarah was meant to be a part of her punishment. She had been with Sarah nearly every night since she had arrived, and her days with Button had forged a bond of affection between them. If this tableau had been designed to inspire an agony of jealous rage; it had failed. She felt left out, certainly frustrated, but the fact that s
he had disappointed Sarah bothered her more.

  A single glance at Sarah reassured her. Sarah met Jenny’s eyes briefly before the girl remembered her place and dropped them, but even in that short time she saw understanding in Sarah’s eyes, almost an apology. Jenny realized that she was being punished partly to mollify Lady G, and Sarah regretted the necessity. It wasn’t the first time that Jenny had been aware of a history between these two that she was not privy to. Perhaps Sarah had to defer to Lady G when she would rather not. Perhaps there was a debt to be paid.

  If that was the case, Jenny would help to discharge it. She could only hope that it might redeem her, but she would pay anyway—for Sarah.

  Lady G was already raising Jenny’s hands and clipping the D rings on her wrist cuffs to the waiting attachments. When she knelt and drew Jenny’s unresisting ankles toward the floor rings, Jenny felt the increased stretch in her shoulders. In a matter of seconds, she was spread wide, completely vulnerable, and utterly helpless.

  “Since Dusk and Tinka are Lady G’s girls,” said Sarah, “She is the offended party here. So this is her play.” She stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray and set the ashtray on the night stand. Her movements were brisk, betraying a bottled anger.

  Lady G ran a slow hand down the length of Jenny’s taut body. “I’m going to whip the hide off you,” she murmured.

  “She’s still my gal,” Sarah protested. “She won’t be any good to me in the hospital after you rip her to pieces.”

  Jenny felt the temperature in the room drop a few degrees. Whatever relationship Sarah and Lady G shared, it wasn’t friendship. She didn’t like being between these women, figuratively or literally.

  “Darling! Surely a few dozen strokes shouldn’t devalue her much,” purred Lady G.

  Jenny couldn’t see the woman behind her, but she could imagine the insincerity of the smile that would be frozen on her face. Some women assume a false congeniality as their tempers rise. If they start to add terms of endearment, it’s time to duck. Jenny wanted more than ever to curl up into a ball and hide in a corner.

  “With that whip, a dozen ought to be plenty,” Sarah said evenly.

  Do I hear six? Thought Jenny. The party most concerned in this negotiation wasn’t allowed to bid. She held her tongue and waited.

  “Very well then,” Lady G was being magnanimous. “Just a dozen with this then, and I will give her the rest with something lighter.”

  Sarah didn’t seem pleased by this idea either, but clearly felt that she had done all she could to protect Jenny. Her impotent frustration was apparent as she twisted a tuft of Button’s mane and pulled the pony girl back into position between her thighs.

  “Break time’s over, puss!”

  Button sensed Sarah’s mood, not that fear was a necessary motive for diving back into her task. Jenny envied her position. Not only would she be allowed to feed on Sarah’s sweet nectar, but she wouldn’t have to bear witness as her bunkmate was whipped.

  Jenny certainly would rather be where she was.

  The first stroke came whistling in out of the darkness behind Jenny, wrapping her waist and surprising her. She sucked air, but the second blow had already landed before she could cry out. This one lit a line of fire across her thigh.

  Her eyes flew wide with shock, and through the fog of her welling tears she could see Sarah writhing on the bed, clutching Button’s head, her eyes already veiled and distant.

  The third stroke sought the crack of Jenny’s ass.

  There was a pause then, while Lady G set the whip aside and stuffed a rubber wedge into Jenny’s mouth. She hadn’t even been aware that she was screaming.

  On the bed, Sarah was doubled over and crying out as her spurs raked Button’s ass.

  The fourth and fifth strokes scorched Jenny between the shoulders. After that, perhaps because Lady G realized that her quota was nearly spent and wanted to concentrate her efforts where the sexual pay off was greatest for her, every stroke was directed at Jenny’s tender, quivering ass. The agony seemed to build with each measured stroke.

  As the pain began to fade, Jenny became aware that she had been silently counting. She forced some of the tension from her body, flexing her aching shoulders and unclenching her fists.

  Okay, you made it. It wasn’t so bad.

  It was in that moment, when she was least prepared for it, that the whip snaked in again and added one more blazing line to her singed bottom.

  She threw a look of reproach over her shoulder. Lady G met it with an impish grin and a wink.

  “A baker’s dozen, dearie,” she murmured, as though that justified and explained everything.

  Sarah hadn’t even noticed. She was already rolling Button over on to her back. Sarah’s hungry fingers sought prey. Impatiently, she slapped the inside of Button’s thighs to direct her. Button looked expectant and wary as she threw her knees obediently wide. She was still unsure of Sarah’s intentions, knowing that the cowgirl was a creature of whim. For Sarah pain or pleasure was not a conscious choice, it was the whim of a demon that arrived unsummoned, astonishing even her.

  “Now then,” said Lady G. Her voice pulled Jenny’s attention back to her own unpleasant predicament, reminding her that the party was just getting started.

  “Which toy should we play with next?”

  From the direction of her voice, she was over at the wall, where Jenny knew that an array of painful devices was always displayed. Jenny had never been sure if the weapons on the wall were arranged there for Sarah’s convenience, or as a hovering threat to terrorize her evening companions. Jenny might have turned her head to see, but the look of apprehension in her eyes would only have fed Lady G’s sadistic appetite, and Jenny would discover soon enough what the choice had been.

  The view before her was no improvement. Button was squealing softly, lifting her heels off the bed as she convulsed joyfully. Sarah’s face was buried in her puss now, feasting on her.

  Jenny let her head droop. Her suffering had been a stimulant for Sarah, but no longer served that purpose. She had ceased to be even worthy of Sarah’s attention, while Button was getting lost in her own erotic dream. Jenny’s suffering would continue whether or not Sarah and Button bothered to witness it. It had been bad enough to be an object of scorn. Now she was simply invisible.

  Lady G stepped in front of Jenny, temporarily blocking the view. A pair of metal clips dangled from her fingertips.

  “Are you familiar with these?” Her voice was teasing.

  She was. Jenny had felt those jaws before, and hated them. With the rubber wedge filling her mouth, Jenny couldn’t reply. The question was rhetorical anyway, and Lady G could understand the answer in her widening eyes, and enjoyed what she read there. Chuckling softly, Lady G clutched Jenny to her and sucked on the pony girl’s nipples greedily, encouraging them to stand up hard.

  Jenny could feel the woman’s talons digging into her back, the clips in her palm were a spot of ice against Jenny’s shoulder blade. Jenny whined as she felt sharp teeth close over her nipples, biting just hard enough to frighten and hurt her.

  Lady G made a little production out of attaching the clips, putting them on and studying the result, pretending displeasure with the result and taking them off to adjust them again. The pain multiplied as Jenny’s nipples became more tender. It was like being gnawed by rats. She whined and strained against her wrist cuffs.

  Jenny didn’t know for sure when Lady G finally left her alone. Her eyes were screwed tightly shut as she adjusted to the continuous and maddening pinch. She only gradually became aware that the clips were no longer being twisted and tugged upon, and the torture continued only because of their dangling weight. Warily, she opened her eyes.

  On the bed, Sarah mauled Button, raking the pony girls’ flanks and grasping the soft breasts in her claws as she growled softly and greedily devoured the vitals. Button’s cries were wounded and lost.

  A soft clicking, like distant castanets, warned Jenny of Lady G’s ret
urn. A moment later she appeared in front of Jenny again.

  With her legs spread so wide, Jenny stood lower than usual, but Lady G still had to lift her gaze to meet Jenny’s. Lady G dangled another pair of clips between them and gleefully studied the apprehension in Jenny’s eyes.

  A sort of mad tittering threatened to erupt from the woman, and she locked it behind pursed lips like a schoolgirl embarrassed to be overhearing a smutty word.

  “Mmm, hmmm, You do know where this pair goes now, don’t you?”

  Jenny felt her knees involuntarily begin to strain at their bonds and strive to come together.

  Lady G noticed it too, and coaxed them apart with a sharp slap to the inside of each thigh.

  “Open those legs!”

  Jenny obeyed swiftly, communicating terrified apology with her eyes, but Lady G was not mollified. As she turned away a dark cloud seemed to follow her wake. She was back in a moment with a leather strap, aiming swift and savage blows toward the thighs jenny could not defend.

  “You! Don’t! Move!” every word was underlined by the report of leather striking skin.

  Jenny wailed into her gag. The woman terrified as only nightmares can. There was more than mere rage inside this woman, there was madness clawing at the door.

  “Understand?” The blow that followed made Jenny’s entire weight hang from her wrists as her heels rose from the floor. She shook her head frantically.

  As suddenly as it had gathered, the storm dissipated and Lady G grinned sheepishly, brushing back a tangle of hair that had fallen across her eyes. She coughed.

  “Well then. That’s better. See how much better life is when you cooperate?”

  She didn’t toy with the clips this time. She wasn’t in the mood anymore. The clips were snapped on to Jenny’s labia with a brisk efficiency that had her whining piteously.

  The clips weren’t meant to be the main event in this torture session anyway, only a minor added annoyance. When the strap began to flail at her from behind, Jenny soon forgot them entirely.

  Jenny’s entire body was a fair target for the whistling strap. It wrapped her shoulders and bit her arm pits, wrapping around to nip at her breasts. It reddened her belly and made her thighs sing with dreadful pain.