by Paul Moore
At some point during the beating, perhaps when Lady G paused for a moment to wipe her forehead, Jenny opened her eyes. Sarah was smoking again, wearily leaning back against the pillows with Button under her arm. She looked sated and a trifle bored.
When the lash began to fall again, Button flinched sympathetically.
Much of the hour that followed became a blur. At some point, the clips were yanked off, making Jenny shriek with the sudden flare of agony. Jenny later remembered the moment when Lady G pried the gag from her aching jaw and forced a kiss on her, invading her mouth with a tongue that probed deep, seizing the pony girl’s lower lip in her teeth as the greedy hands worked on her from below, extorting a reluctant dew from the bruised flesh.
Jenny collapsed to the floor in exhaustion when Lady G finally released her. She was glossy with pain sweat and sniffing back tears that she was still too proud to shed. The strap had overlaid her ass with a uniform glowing heat, yet rising through it she could count each stripe of the whip as a bright flare of lingering pain. The strap trailed over her bowed head and she raised her face to kiss it, then dropped low to kiss the toe of Lady G’s boot as well.
“Now, that is a proper display of submission,” said Lady G triumphantly. She grasped the tuft of Jenny’s mane, bringing her up to a kneeling position, and planted her boots beside Jenny’s knees, straddling her.
Sometime during the beating, Lady G had shed her jodhpurs, and Jenny found herself staring up at the woman’s heavily furred mound.
“Now you are ready to thank me properly.”
It was the inevitable culmination of a perfect evening, insult added to injury. Jenny wanted to beat at the woman with her fists, screaming, then run to Sarah’s side and beg her pardon and protection. Instead she tilted her head back and opened her mouth wide as the descending sex engulfed her.
Lady G exuded a strong musk, and enjoyed smothering her victim.
“Get your tongue in there! Deeper, bitch!”
Now and then she would yank Jenny’s head away to let her gulp air, savor the mounting distress of the slave’s near suffocation, then bury her face again in the pungent folds.
Lady G looked oddly young and vulnerable when she climaxed, like a young girl experiencing it for the first time, yet she held Jenny’s head captive in a vise-like grip and pressed her tightly to her belly, hard enough to bruise Jenny’s lips against her teeth. When Lady G finally relaxed and pushed her away, Jenny allowed herself to hope that her debt had at last been paid. She longed to spend the rest of the night near Sarah; if not beside her, at least chained by the foot of her bed. The leash that Lady G clipped to her collar was her first clue that this was not to be. A canvas bag was thrust between Jenny’s teeth
“Carry this for me, would you?” Lady G’s request seemed perfectly reasonable. Jenny didn’t think of refusing as the strap fell hard on her ass.
“Outside,” barked Lady G, yanking on the leash.
Jenny had to crawl swiftly to avoid being dragged. She scurried painfully along in Lady G’s wake, heedless of the sharp pebbles stabbing into her palms and knees, driven by the sharp explosions of pain on her backside.
In the light of the full moon she could see the pillory waiting in the center of the yard.
Part Two
She Was Rode Hard and Put Away Wet
Chapter Eleven
Locked in the pillory, Jenny waited for the sun to rise.
Setting the punishment strap aside and ordering Jenny to bend over the trestle, Lady G had raised the split cross bar of the yoke and invited Jenny to place her neck and wrists into the notches. As the top closed on its hinge, Jenny fought an attack of panic, thinking about how implacably the wood would hold her. Then lady G closed the hasp and pinned it fast, and escape became a lost hope.
The wrist holes had been placed lower than the notch that held her neck, easing the strain that the pillory would otherwise exert on her elbows and shoulders. Her belly rested on a narrow plank that supported the center of her body while her breasts were free to dangle on either side. A thick, smooth wooden cylinder raised and cradled her hips.
At the base of the trestle, mounted across the base of the upright was a wooden stock notched for a pair of ankles. Jenny’s legs were spread obscenely wide and locked in place.
When Jenny was secure, Lady G had taken the canvas bag out of Jenny’s mouth and opened it. Leather straps were coiled inside like a nest of snakes. Lady G used two of them to draw Jenny’s knees forward and secure them to the post. Another strap went around her waist and was drawn tight to the plank below her until her back was arched. She felt like a sacrifice bound to an altar, but it wasn’t her soul that was being offered. She could feel the desert breeze caress the wide stretched cleft between her buttocks.
Lady G had strolled around the pillory then, checking each connection, tightening a buckle here and there. Satisfied, she had opened the bag a final time, producing a pair of latex gloves and a jar of lubricant. Jenny couldn’t see anything except her own hands, which appeared to be no more than fluttering ghosts in the moonlight, but she could hear the crunch of Lady G’s boot heels moving behind her, and the rattle of the jar lid being opened. She could feel two fingers spearing into her anus, delivering a glob of something cold and slippery that smelled of perfume. The fingers worked deep, turning and stroking inside her.
“Still a bit tight,” muttered Lady G, to herself. “Perhaps she is just tense. I’ll have to speak to Sarah about opening her up a bit more.” The fingers slithered out slowly.
Lady G screwed the top back on the jar and set it on the cross bar between Jenny’s legs.. Then she stood back a moment to admire her work before she picked up the punishment strap and delivered a half dozen savage blows to the taut skin of Jenny’s ass. Beyond pride or shame by this time, Jenny howled and sobbed.
As the pain began to fade she opened her eyes. Lady G was in front of her again.
“Open your mouth.”
When Jenny obeyed, the strap was thrust into her mouth.
“Hold this.”
The lash dangled from Jenny’s mouth. She couldn’t imagine the price she might pay for spitting it out.
“The grooms are country boys,” said Lady G. “They generally rise early. I imagine that Soupcan will be here about first light. After he has finished with you, he will probably want to share you with a few friends. You can think of it as a coming out party.”
She turned on her heel and disappeared into the darkness.
Jenny waited, tasting leather seasoned with her tears, shivering in the night chill. A coyote howled in the darkness and was answered.
The trestle, she discovered, was nearly comfortable. She could rise on her toes and ease the pressure on her belly, though it tightened the strap across the small of her back. She could let her head drop and rest her neck, but that drew her hips forward over the bolster and raised her ass even more. The notches that trapped her extremities fit snugly, but didn’t pinch. Sandpaper and varnish had smoothed them. If she fought them in the throes of her ordeal, chafing would be minimal.
Something touched her heel, something with sharp, tiny legs. Her breath whistled through her teeth as she whined around the strap, thinking of scorpions and the moist fragrance it might climb her leg to investigate, but whatever it was decided she was inedible and scuttled away.
The birds announced the dawn, bursting into chorus before she realized that the sky was growing brighter. Soon the smell of bacon drifted from the farmhouse. Button was still in there. Perhaps she had been allowed to sleep in Sarah’s bed. She might be kneeling on the kitchen floor having breakfast from a tin plate while Sarah stared out the window, sipping her morning coffee and enjoying the view.
“Now ain’t that a pretty sight,” said Soupcan.
She heard him coming, recognizing that slow swaggering limp. He was here to claim his reward after so many days of hard training. She could feel his breath on her cheeks. He sniffed.
“Mmmm! I love the
smell of fresh lube in the morning,” he drawled. “It smells like buggery.”
Jenny shuddered. It was just the early morning chill she told herself, not the dreadful prospect of being brutally gang raped while she was on public display.
He circled her slowly, enjoying his anticipation. When he was in front of her, he lowered his zipper and reached inside to free his already half erect cock. He took the strap out of her mouth and draped it across her back.
“Make it good and hard now,” he admonished. “If I go limp trying to squeeze into that tight little hole, I might have to find some other way to get the old lizard back up.”
The snug fit of the pillory constricted her throat, and she choked on him as he forced himself in deep. He was in a hurry though, and was quickly steely hard. His cock emerged from her mouth trailing a strand of saliva.
Lubrication, she thought. If he is wet, it won’t hurt as much.
He played his cock up and down her ass crack first, and spanked her with it. At last, he hooked his thumbs to either side to spread her open a bit more and pressed forward. Jenny held her breath and willed herself to relax, feeling him breach the ring of muscle and ooze in.
It wasn’t as bad as she feared. Hard though it was, his cock was still warm flesh. Sarah’s dildo had been cold and hard. The plugs had helped prepare her for this moment, teaching her to yield when instinct urged her to resist. His drive was slow but inexorable and she moaned as she felt him filling her depths.
He stayed that way a moment, letting her adjust or just relishing the tight grip.
“Your first real cock, honey?” he chuckled. “I told you that you would learn to like it.”
He pulled out of her, all the way out, amused by her yelp of surprise. The freshly outraged opening felt oddly abandoned, and she was embarrassed as she felt it pucker and pout. He was just toying with her, and immediately drove himself in again, swiftly this time, so that she cried out.
He fucked her then, steadily and relentlessly, until her mouth was agape and her eyes were
beginning to glaze over from the surfeit of sensations—pain, humiliation, and the awakening of a furtive lust.
He is really doing this, he is fucking me up the ass!
He pulled out again, and the muted keening she had been emitting was suddenly cut off. She lowered her head, feeling drained and utterly defeated.
“Ask me for more.”
She drew a slow, shuddering breath. “Please fuck me.”
Her voice was a gravelly squeak. She was coughing to clear her throat when she felt the strap lifted from her back. Sudden alarm gave her renewed energy.
“Please, Sir! Please fuck my tight little ass! I need it, really!”
He hesitated, disappointed by her swift surrender, or maybe it was pity for her desperation that made him pause.
“Aw fuck it!” he growled at last, and she felt the strap sweep down across her left thigh, high and inside.
“AHHH! Please, Sir. I need your beautiful cock! Lady G has already made me nice and red for you, just the way you like me!” The tears that she had held in check for so long flowed freely at last, and a deep, hopeless sob broke through unrestrained.
The right thigh felt the strap this time.
“Shut up now,” he sounded irritated by her frantic pleading. It had been her mistake, after all, to let herself believe that mere begging would earn her any mercy. “I aim to freshen you up a mite first.”
He concentrated his efforts on her ass after that, raining the strokes down with measured efficiency. This wasn’t about punishment any more, and he didn’t need to hear her screams to get stiff. The glistening tip of his liberated cock was already a bobbing lance. He was just improving her color, preparing a warm cushion for his palms to knead while he rode her.
When the strap draped over her back again and she felt his cock playing up and down her crack to tease her, she controlled her sobbing and quavered.
“Thank you, Sir!”
“That’s my girl.” His cool hands stroked her ass approvingly as he thrust into her again, swift and deep. “Hold on now. We’re going for a long hard ride.”
Much later, Jenny watched the long morning shadow of the live oak creep across the yard as it shortened. The sun would reach her soon, and she was already thirsty.
If any formal sentence had been handed down in her case, no one had bothered to tell the defendant. She didn’t know if she was still being punished, or if this was just considered another day in the life of an indentured sex slave. Until this morning, exhausted and alone in her misery, she had been able to delude herself. But this misadventure wasn’t about noble self sacrifice, or even athletic ambition. She had sold herself for money.
Around her, the ranch was coming to life. Harness leather creaked and shod feet clattered by. No one seemed surprised to see her there. The other pony girls pointedly ignored her. Whether that was because she was in disgrace; or because they didn’t want to be reminded of a plight that could easily become their own, Jenny had no way of knowing.
Jenny’s bottom was itching and deeply sore, marinating in Soupcan’s sweat. His belly’s wiry pelt had abraded the already tender skin of her cleft as he repeatedly slammed himself into her. The spunk he painted her cheeks with had tickled its way down her crack and was drying on her thigh. Soupcan had draped the strap across her back as he was leaving. He told her that he was keeping it handy for later.
The tears on her cheeks were drying as well. She could only imagine the humiliating display she had just made, red faced and grunting, eyes and mouth wide with shock, tears streaming. She had been babbling toward the end.
“Oh please! PLEASE! AH! Not so HARD! AH! Could you just slow down at LEAST! I’m not going AH! Anywhere!”
He had leaned over her and whispered in her ear, his hips still furiously churning as he prompted her, and she had screamed all of the things he told her to scream.
“I love AH! Your AH! Big Beautiful AH! COCK!”
She had announced to anyone within earshot that she was a horny slutty dirty whore who loved taking Soupcan’s big cock up her ass, and she wanted it every day from now on. She had sounded very sincere.
The door to the ranch house opened and Button came out carrying something on a little tray. As she came across the yard toward her, Jenny could see orange juice in a tall glass and smell bacon and eggs. Button looked wary, as though unsure of her reception. Jenny couldn’t suppress a wry smile. It wasn’t as though she was likely to leap up and assault anyone.
“Sarah sent me to feed you.” Button said. Her body language, nervous shifting, and an inability to look directly at Jenny, said, Are you mad at me?
“It smells really good.” Jenny let her squirm a little. She had been warned from the beginning that she would never be Sarah’s special girl, but they had been together enough for Jenny to form an emotional bond anyway. She had felt rejected last night, just when she needed most to be restored to a state of grace. She understood that Sarah had a good reason, and there was a dynamics of sex and power at play here that had very little to do with her. It still hurt.
“I’m not allowed to turn you loose yet. I’ll have to feed you by hand.”
Jenny saw the logic of this as well. Sarah was experienced enough with the pony girl psyche to expect Jenny’s resentment of an unjust punishment, and to realize that Jenny might nurture a natural jealousy of Button and transform her into an emotional scapegoat. It would be an easy way for her to direct her anger at a safer target.
But they were still a team, dependent upon each other. Sending Button out to feed Jenny was a brilliant way of reminding them both of that fact, and giving them a chance to make their peace.
“I really need to pee.” Jenny laughed apologetically.
“Oh, I’m sorry! I should have thought of that,” Button was nearly comic in her concern, or maybe just relieved that Jenny was still speaking to her. She hastily unfolded a little frame that she had carried in the crook of her elbow and set the
tray on it. “I’ll get a bucket.”
She headed back toward the house while Jenny waited, gazing longingly at the hot breakfast so tantalizingly near. When Button returned, Jenny felt the cold rim of a metal bucket pressed between her thighs.
“Sorry,” said Button. “It’s the best I can do.”
Jenny’s need was too great for embarrassment, but she blushed as she heard her own urine spattering behind her. When she had finished, Button poured the bucket out into the yard and went back to the house. She rinsed the bucket at an outside spigot and came back with fresh water to pour between Jenny’s legs.
The icy water made Jenny gasp, but it was soothing to her swollen tissues.
Button came around the trestle and busied herself cutting up Jenny’s eggs and balancing a bite on the end of the fork.
“Open wide,” Button giggled. “Here comes the choo choo!”
Jenny smiled, bemused by the lame humor, but her situation did make her feel like a helpless child, unable even to feed herself. Sarah had known that it would, of course.
“I hope you aren’t thinking about leaving the ranch now,” said Button as Jenny chewed.
The question caught Jenny off guard. She had been worried that Sarah might banish her, and had long since rejected the obvious choice. She had forgotten that she could end this ordeal with a few words, collect her per diem pay and return to her old life. This was a commitment, and she was determined to see it through no matter how difficult.
“No,” she swallowed. “Do you think that I should?”
“Look, I’m sorry about last night. I was sent for. It wasn’t my choice.”
Jenny opened her mouth for another bite and ate it before she answered. “I know that,” she mumbled wearily. “I’m a big girl.”
“Lady G is giving Sarah twenty kinds of shit right now. I think they sent me out here so they could talk privately. When the grown ups argue, they put the kids outside to play. I did hear Sarah say that she can’t maintain order here when she has to handle Lady G’s girls with kid gloves. Lady G is about ready to pick up her toys and go home. I think maybe Dusk and Tinka are finally going to be out of our hair.”
