{"loaderData":{"4":{"story":{"id":"f485d107-bbc9-42c1-ab50-feeb07399129","seriesId":null,"seriesName":null,"currentUserId":"00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000","added":"2023-12-16T18:23:38.044Z","title":"Two out of three","slug":"two-out-of-three","shortId":"PtfivwRY","authorNote":"Note: This was originally intended to be a two or three-part story under a different title. However, I scrubbed that idea and amended it to a ‘long’ short story. I haven’t checked it much, so I apologise for any typos or other errors. I just wanted to get it out of the way and then concentrate on other stuff.","disclaimer":"Copyright © 2023 (Nick HC)\nAll rights reserved.\n\nNo part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted for publication in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission from the author.","type":"Short","paidUrl":null,"synopsis":"A lesbian couple with a penchant for Sadism pay a visit to an old friend who has a surprise in store for them.","partCount":1,"parts":[{"partId":"7ba530b8-1d0a-4c4e-8415-02369980a32f","title":null,"summary":"Two out of three The comment on my Facebook posting came right out of the\nblue. I’d put up a fe","wordCount":26606,"readTime":133,"number":1,"state":"Published"}],"currentPart":1,"contentTitle":"Chapter 1","content":"

Two out of three

The comment on my Facebook posting came right out of the\nblue. I’d put up a few pictures of Chrissie and myself enjoying a cheapo late\nspring break on the island of Majorca before the hordes of summer tourists\narrived. The usual thing, budget airline, the cheapest beachfront hotel I could\nfind on the internet, likewise hire car.

It produced the usual replies and comments from family and\nfriends, along with a fair few likes, but one comment stood out, being somewhat\ndifferent from all the other predictable inane responses. ‘Nice pic’s, I take\nit from them that you and Chrissie are still together? Remember those nights at\nthe club when we were at Uni? Are you two still interested in that sort of\nthing? Got something you both might be interested in? If so, message me if you\nare, Jeremy.

That was what started it and why Chrissie and I had driven\nup the M10 motorway for an hour or so and then cut off into Cambridgeshire and\nwere heading for a dot on the map that was a mere postcode on our built-in sat\nnav. Neither of us was familiar with\nthis part of the country, but it was a nice change from London despite the\nSaturday traffic being heavier than anticipated. Why do so many trucks have to\nbe on the road at the weekend?

Chrissie and I were both northern girls born and bred. Myself\nfrom the Eastern side, the white rose county of Yorkshire. In contrast, Chrissie\nhailed from Liverpool on the West coast, the red-rose county of\nLancashire. Neither of us had the strong\naccent associated with those areas until after a few beers anyway. After a few drinks too many, one of our party\npieces was to slag each other off in our home towns' slang and exaggerated\naccents.

We’d met at a Pride event the student’s union organised during\nour fresher’s week at uni. Two shy, northern lasses unsure of our sexuality and\nboth feeling a tad homesick. Neither of\nus came from an over-achieving academic family, so we were also somewhat over-awed\nby the university and life in the capital. Not least the shock of finding how expensive\neverything was down South! ‘How much!’ became a sort of battle cry of ours\nduring those first few weeks.

An exchange of tentative, shy smiles at a book stall full of\nlesbian literature overseen by a rather aggressive, pierced and heavily tattooed\ngothic leather-clad dyke, quickly led to a swift retreat to the safety of a\ntable by the café counter. We swapped life stories while giggling about the\npredatory glances the ink-impregnated goth constantly threw our way. We agreed\nthat she wasn’t bad looking and take away all the artwork, or most of it, plus the\nnumerous metallic additions and, well, maybe…..

‘Not hard to figure who’d be the bottom in any relationship\nwith that one’, Chrissie had giggled over her small, iced latte. Small because\nneither of us had money to burn, most students haven’t, but we came from what would\nonce have been described as poor working-class families, whereas now we were ‘lower\nincome’, but spare coppers were just as rare in the family purse, let alone\nsilver!

‘Probably with a very sore bottom too, I’d imagine I had\nreplied, shooting a surreptitious glance at the Goth who’d turned her predatory\nattentions to a rather petite and innocent-looking young blonde she’d virtually\npinned to the stall and looking somewhat desperate.

‘Like that kid will have unless she gets out of that\nsituation quickly’, Chrissie had chuckled and added. ‘I wouldn’t mind warming\nthat little cutie up a bit myself!’ she winked at me and rather sexily licked\nher lips, making me giggle and choke, spitting half a mouthful of my Americano\nall over the table.

We learned much about each other in the next two hours,\nfinishing our first drinks and then sharing a large, iced latte via two straws,\na not-unusual sight in the student union coffee bar. We dated that night,\nshared a bed, and have been a couple ever since. We dovetailed together\nperfectly, our tastes coinciding in music, food, humour, cats, holiday\nlocations and just about everything bar two.

I was a Leeds United supporter, whereas Chrissie was a\nLiverpool supporter. However, we could live with that, especially as they had\nnot been in the same football league for most of our time together. Less straightforward was we’d also discovered\na mutual interest in the BDSM scene that first twenty-four hours together, and\nneither of us was natural or willing bottoms.

Of course, we’d experimented over the years by adding a\nthird and, on one occasion, a fourth party to our games, but it had never proved\nparticularly satisfactory. Despite being in a very secure, loving relationship,\none of us always seemed overly jealous, even when there were no grounds to be\nsuspicious. I was particularly prone to developing unfounded suspicions and was\nprobably lucky to avoid criminal charges and a lot of unpleasantness once when\nI went way overboard delivering a caning to a submissive woman I thought might\nbe attempting to seduce Chrissie.

Had she not been married with a couple of kids to a\nprominent lawyer with parliamentary ambitions, it might have turned out quite\nnasty had he not ensured it was all kept quiet. He got himself elected at the\nnext election and was on the telly the other night delivering a speech about\nillegal immigration, and she’s still married to him. Anyway, all that doesn’t\nexplain why we were driving up to Cambridgeshire that Saturday morning\nfollowing an unexpected Facebook message.

We’d met Jeremy, always Jeremy, not Jerry, for he hated that\nabbreviation before our second year started. Like most British universities, they only had\nso much accommodation available, which was always reserved for first-year\nstudents. Chrissie and I got lucky and were saved the hassle of finding a\nshared ‘student house’ to rent. We’d decided to stay in London for the long\nsummer vacation rather than return home. It made sense because we wanted to\nstay together, plus we’d both got part-time jobs waitressing to supplement our\nstudent loans, and being peak tourist season, we could go full-time for the\nsummer months.

Our place paid above the minimum wage, and while tipping\nwasn’t the general custom in the UK, we did okay because we worked in ‘quality’\nrestaurants. Fewer customers, less hassle, plus our patrons weren’t the sort to\nbe miserly when they received the bill along with a generous, hopeful smile. We\njust loved American tourists and their generosity!

To be strictly accurate, we met Jeremy at the end of our\nfirst year when we were seriously thinking about where to live for the summer\nand where we could continue living once the term started again in October. We\nwere reading the various notices on a dedicated board in the student union café\nwhen we politely moved over to allow a relatively short guy with pink\nhighlights in his long blonde hair to pin up a card. However, he never actually\ngot that far.

He glanced sideways at us, paused, smiled and then nodded\naffably. “I’ve seen you here a few times at the Rainbow Night disco’s, haven’t\nI? Always dancing closely together?”

“What of it?” Chrissie had promptly challenged. At that\nstage, neither of us had ‘come out’ as it is irritatingly termed, and she was\nfar feistier than I was when the question of our sexuality was raised.

“Hey, back off and pull your horns in.” Jeremy had laughed,\nraising his hands. “I surrender. I assume you’ve also seen me here dancing with\nmy latest boyfriend or eyeing the better-looking male talent. Looking for accommodation, I take it?”

We agreed to rental terms over a coffee, which he insisted\non buying without even seeing the house he was renting. Jeremy was in his final\nyear but would probably stay on and do his master’s. He had two spare bedrooms\nin a four-bedroom house in a convenient location. He occupied one and his\nnon-student on/off boyfriend another. The other two were recently vacated by\nstudents who’d graduated and moved elsewhere. One was larger and had a double\nbed, so we opted to share that, meaning he could still let the fourth while we\ncould save a few more pennies. It was a big house with a huge kitchen, so one\nmore wouldn’t be a crowd, plus it would mean all of us paying less rent.

Chrissie was driving as we headed North, so I had plenty of\ntime to indulge in nostalgia. Besides, she didn’t like to talk while driving\nand was always nervous on motorways. Odd because she was pretty damn forward, even\naggressive, most of the time. Hell, yes! I’d been on the end of many a pounding\nonce she got going with her favourite strap-on!

We’d had three good years with Jeremy at that house and took\nover the tenancy when he departed for another two years till we scrapped up\nenough to put a deposit on a small flat of our own. Small being the appropriate\nword as we’d done our degrees in the medical profession and the UK National Health\nService while providing fantastic health care to the tax-paying public wasn’t\nthe best when it came to generous wage settlements for its hard-working and\nconscientious staff! I’d studied nursing\nwhile Chrissie was a radiographer.

We hadn’t seen Jeremy for over five years, and his sudden,\nmysterious contact had intrigued us both. Despite being a very close threesome\nfor a couple of years, we’d quickly lost touch once he left the house to work\nin a science park on the outskirts of Cambridge. It was always a threesome, for\nJeremy seemed to have a new lover, a new ‘boy’ every couple of months but\ntended to keep them separate. Mark, his on/off live-in partner, seemed to have\nno problem with that, for it appeared thiers was a causal relationship based\npurely on sex and not much else, one providing satisfaction for the other\nwhenever one of them was in the mood.
\n
\nWe had no problems with that, for Mark was a quiet guy with a wicked sense of humour\nwho mostly kept himself to himself. He was fastidious about cleanliness and did\nfar more of the general housework than his fair share. Naturally, we didn’t\ndiscourage him, and as he seemed to enjoy it, why interfere?

On the other hand, Jeremy was less retiring and far more\nforceful, a bundle of dynamic energy at times and very demanding. He was one of\nthose people who always seemed way bigger than they physically are merely by\nforce of personality. I’m five foot eight in my bare feet and Chrissie two\ninches shorter, yet we both frequently felt inferior to Jeremy, who admitted to\nbeing five feet four inches tall. We both thought that perhaps it was a little\nwhite lie, for he always wore thick soles shoes with clunkier heels than usual.\nNot massively oversized and hardly noticeable unless you happened to be looking,\nbut even with them, we had doubts that he made that full fourth inch.

That fraction of an inch hardly mattered, but it was obviously\nimportant to him. We learned early on that he was exceedingly touchy about his\nlack of stature. The five of us were drinking in a nearby pub one Saturday\nnight just after term had started. Me, Chrissie, Jeremy, Mark and Nancy, the\nlatter a big, immensely cheerful, American exchange student who’d taken the\nfourth bedroom. A devout catholic from the mid-west who scolded the four of us\ndaily for our sinful sexuality along with baking the most fantastic biscuits, ‘cookies’\nto her and chocolate flapjack!

It was getting towards closing time when the incident\nhappened, and while none of us were drunk, we’d reached that happy, carefree\nend of a good evening state. Jeremy had gone up to the bar to get a final round\nin. He tended towards generosity, having a sizeable allowance from his parents\nthat the rest of us lacked and had accidentally jogged a big guy’s arm just as\nhe was about to take a sip from a full pint. No big deal, and the guy seemed\nquite amiable and unconcerned about it, and nothing would have happened if he\nhadn’t quietly said, “Hey, go carefully there, shortie!”

I doubt he even intended it to be an insult from his tone\nand grin, but Jeremy just exploded. Boom! One moment affable, apple pie sweet\nand the next, flinging himself upon a guy seemingly twice his size and trying\nhis best to kill the poor guy. Hell, it only lasted a matter of seconds before\na half dozen of us pulled him off, but the poor chap still spent half the night\nin the local hospital accident and emergency department! Our pleasant evening out ended up at the\npolice station, making statements, and Jeremy being done for assault. We\nlearned it wasn’t his first such offence either, and he was lucky to get off\nwith a fine and a severe warning from the magistrate for disturbing the peace.\nThe assault charge was dropped mainly because the other guy didn’t press\ncharges.

We were to learn that size mattered to Jeremy, at least as\nfar as partners went. That temperamental chip on his shoulder was sizeable,\nunlike him. He liked his bedmates on the large size; the bigger, the better,\nand he wanted them submissive. The more submissive, the better! He was a top\nwith a capital T, and they were bottoms with a very small b. Not that they\nphysically had small butts, and he liked to amuse himself both outside and\ninside said butts very roughly. Nature might have been somewhat miserly when\nhanding out the inch’s stature-wise but had relented when it came to another critical\nmale statistic!

Being a shared house, we only had one bathroom, which\ncontained a toilet like many UK houses. Fortunately, we also had another one\ndownstairs, which is very useful in a shared house when everyone rises at about\nthe same time. Jeremy had a habit of moving unconcernedly between the bathroom\nand his bedroom au natural, as Chrissie discovered emerging from our room early\nthat first month. She promptly dubbed him Donkey-Kong, and a couple of days\nlater, I was equally impressed with his ‘boy parts’ as he emerged from the\nbathroom door just as I reached for the handle. Not exactly our ‘cup of tea’ as\nthe saying goes, but unquestionably awesome and worth a few giggles!

Chrissie had been as intrigued as I had been when he\nmessaged me back with that invite to visit him and added his cell phone number in\nMessenger, and despite several calls, he’d refused to be drawn on anything. He\njust got into one of his silly giggly moods and became exaggeratedly gay, if\nyou know what I mean, complete with a ridiculous accent and a shit load of\ndarlings, sweeties, luvvies and similar endearments.

All we knew was that it related to our days or nights at\nScarlett’s Bar, a discreet, dimly lit establishment in a large basement complex\nnot far from Soho Square he’d introduced us to. The area was once famous or\nperhaps infamous as the red-light district of the capital, full of sleazy clip\njoints, whores and dirty book shops but lacking the canal and café ambience of\nAmsterdam’s De Wallen district. However, while the latter still exists as a\nsignificant tourist attraction, most of the sleaze around Soho has been\nconsigned to history and had been even when we frequented the area.

Strictly speaking, Scarlett’s was a club rather than a bar\nand very much a member-only venue, complete with a tuxedo-clad gorilla on door\nduty after you’d negotiated a small iron gate, descended a flight of narrow\ngreen slime-covered steps and knocked on the paint peeling door complete with a\nsmall sliding hatch at face level allowing said gorilla to ascertain one's\nworthiness to enter.

Never having been refused, I have no idea what would have\nhappened had Simon or Colin decided against admitting us. They were both big\nguys, very much admired, of course, by Jeremy, and I’m sure more than capable\nof dealing with any unpleasant situation, external or internal. Not that one\nhad ever occurred while we were visiting. Not counting the usual bitchiness among the\npredominantly gay clientele and some disciplinary reminders from the various doms\nupon their attendant subs.

Scarlett was an ex-model, tall and gorgeous, with a mane of\nlong blonde hair. An American who’d worked predominately for a prestigious London\nagency then spent a few years as a high-class dominant once the wrinkles became\ntoo hard to hide for the glossies, as she always joked. She’d married, had a\ncouple of kids, got bored and opened the club. She ran it with Tony, her subby\nhubby and Billy, her submissive toyboy half her age. They mostly ran the bar while\nScarlett spent most evenings with a glass of champagne in one hand, circulating\nand talking to her customers and long-term friends.

It wasn’t primarily a gay club nor especially a bdsm one but\nhad become popular with patrons of both types, perhaps because of the décor and\npictures and partly because of Scarlett herself, her interests, and mostly the\ncasual, undemanding atmosphere. Certainly not because of the drink prices and\nbar snacks. Scarlett had been born ‘on the wrong side of the tracks’ as they\nsay, in an impoverished small Southern town. She might have gone to school\nbarefoot, as she claimed, but that was way behind her by the time she opened\nthe club, being an excellent businesswoman who’d graduated to wearing ultra-expensive\nhandmade shoes.

Chrissie and I became involved through Jeremy, who was a\nmember and on very good terms with Scarlett, although we never found out how.\nIndeed, much of his life and background had remained an enigma to us throughout\nthose days at the flat with him. Fortunately, and probably because of him, we\nalso got along very well with Scarlett, who tolerated our impoverished student\nstatus and turned a blind eye to the two of us sharing a rum and coke plus a\npacket of potato chips for half the evening!

We were very much in the minority, for Students aren’t known\nfor being big spenders, and most of the club's clientele was decidedly from the\nmore affluent middle-class element of the middle-aged! However, Scarlett liked\nto use her contacts within the glamour and entertainment world to ensure that\nthere was always a sprinkling of younger and prettier faces, and you could\nalmost always spot one or two showbiz ‘names’. I recall one night when Chrissie\nhad been desperate to get an autograph from one such individual who’d recently\nreceived an Oscar. However, Jeremy wouldn’t let her because Scarlett would have\ntaken a dim view of such a violation of a customer’s privacy!

As the flat countryside of Cambridgeshire flashed past the\ncar window, I recalled a casual supper conversation between us at the house one\nnight not long after we’d moved in. Jeremy was lamenting that he’d just parted\ncompany with his latest ‘big boy’ as he called them because the guy decided\nthat being bottom to Jeremy’s top wasn’t quite what he’d expected. ‘It wasn’t\nas if I’d even started being cruel to him, well, not too cruel’, he’d\ncomplained over something more potent than the usual nightly cocoa.

That relaxed mood had initiated a conversation about our\nmutual scene interests, released any inhibitions we’d previously had between\nthe three of us and led to our becoming members of the club a few days later.\nWe were never quite sure if Jeremy covered any excess on our membership fees or\nif we’d qualified under Scarlett’s younger and prettier eye candy criteria,\nneither of us being ugly ducklings, and we never asked!

Sadly, the club closed about eighteen months after our first\nintroduction after a silly and unnecessary police raid. Customers could hire\ncertain discrete rooms containing much of the furniture and paraphernalia\nScarlett had acquired for her various dungeon chambers during her days as a\nprofessional dom. We missed all the excitement and potential embarrassment by\none night. Thus, being spared featuring in the subsequent ‘sensational\nrevelations’ published a week later in one of the cheaper Sunday tabloids—most\nof which content varied between sheer speculation and outright fantasy with a minimal\nfactual basis.

Unfortunately, several ‘names’ had been enjoying a quiet\nnight out, including one with a lady who wasn’t his wife who’d been indulging\ntheir fantasies in one of the private rooms! The case never came to court for\nvarious reasons, chiefly because Scarlett wasn’t running a brothel as claimed but\na private member-only club and the police had tried to charge her under several\ninappropriate or archaic offences. It was embarrassing and ultimately pointless\nfor all concerned, and Scarlett decided to move to Switzerland where her kids\nwere already in private schools, taking subby hubby, toyboy and her latest\nnubile young girlfriend with her.

“Ten more miles”, I said, looking at the built-in sat nav.\n“Wonder what he’s so damn keen to show us and what he meant by old discussions\nand fantasies?”

Chrissie shook her head and shrugged. “No idea, Honey. We\nhad some wild fantasies back then, as I recall.” She suddenly laughed and\nturned to wink at me, running her tongue over her lips. “Pretty damn wild and\nsexy ones, as I recall. Still have come to that!”

I nodded in agreement. Yeah, and I also remember the fights\nyou and I had over them. Hell, we nearly broke up a couple of times. Remember\npoor ugly Jenny, if we hadn’t met her, we might have done. I recall you\nstorming out of the flat one evening and spending the night in that sleazy café\nthat mainly catered for black cab drivers – worried the hell out of me!”

Chrissie laughed again. “Yeah, well, you needn’t have\nworried. Those guys were adorable, and I lost count of how many teas, coffees,\nand bacon sandwiches they bought me before one of them gave me a lift home for\nfree once I’d simmered down! Having Jenny around for a while was cool, though.\nI wonder what ever happened to her?”

“No idea!” That was true. Jenny was a fellow student we’d\nsomehow fallen in with, and I can’t even remember how that happened. We called\nher Ugly Jenny because she was. Her hair was horrible, long and always greasy,\nno matter how often she washed it, plus she had bald spots. Her teeth stuck out,\nand her eyes kind of squinted plus, she had skinny chicken legs and no figure\nto speak of and might have been a boy for all that she possessed in the tit\ndepartment. She was also a born submissive and pain freak, and we had a ball\nwith her for a couple of months with Jeremy hammering on our bedroom door on\nmore than one occasion late at night, yelling at us to gag the ugly bitch so he\ncould get some beauty sleep! Whereas nothing ever woke Nancy, our decidedly\nconservative American housemate, once she nodded off, and we had to go and\nshake her every morning physically so she wouldn’t be late for her classes.

We never did find out what had happened to our ugly\nplaymate. One evening, Jenny didn’t turn up as ordered, nor the next few nights\nand when we enquired at uni, we were told she’d resigned from her course,\npacked her bags, moved out of her shared digs, and disappeared. Maybe she’d\nfound someone even nastier than we were, although we’d been pretty bad when I\nthought back. Perhaps she’d taken up with a guy, for she wasn’t gay or even bi,\ncome to that. She’s become a darned good clit licker, though with the appropriate\nencouragement, and we’d given her a lot of that!

I looked at the countryside flying by, wondering about\nJeremy and his mysterious call. He seemed very excited and insisted we visit\nhim as soon as possible. Very insistent, but then again, he’d always been a bit\nof an enthusiast, hadn’t he? The latest rock band he’d discovered, the must-read\nbook when he found a new author or, best of all, a new restaurant. That was\nalways a good one, for he had far more money than us, and any new restaurant discovered\nmeant a night out on him, wine and often taxi included!

*****

“Well, he was right about being isolated but easy to find”,\nChrissie noted as she pulled into what had once been a sizeable car park. The entrances\nand exit had once been clearly marked in white paint on the tarmac and adjacent\nsigns, but these were barely legible now. Indeed, we’d driven right past the\nentrance one when Chrissie abruptly stomped on the brakes in time to turn into\nthe one marking the exit. Not that it mattered, for it must have been many\nyears since that opening had seen regular departures.

The building had once been a roadside pub, one of those you\nsee dotted about the country with no apparent reason for their existence. No\nvillage or any other sign of habitation was in the vicinity, not even a lonely\nfarmhouse or cottage. Some were attractive old coaching houses from an era that\npreceded the railways, but this one looked to be of a much later vintage. A\nsign by the roadside with a faded but hideous goblin-like figure panted upon it\nproclaimed, ‘The Green Man’. A not unusual name for a British public house, no\ndoubt named after a local hob-goblin superstition. Another equally faded sign proclaimed it served\nrestaurant and bar meals and a special roast Sunday lunch. Looking at the cracked and weed-covered car park,\nmany years must have passed since they last carved a roast joint for anyone.

We pulled up near the old-fashioned studded wooden door and exited\nthe car as Jeremy bounded out to greet us with a huge welcome smile, splitting\nhis handsome face. He rushed forward to hug and kiss us both, clearly delighted\nthat we had taken up his invitation to visit. He had to stand on tiptoes\nbecause we both favoured heels, so we inclined our heads downwards slightly to\nbrush our lips, for I’d forgotten how much smaller he was. As I’d mentioned, he\nwas one of those who always seemed so much larger than they actually were.

“Huge, isn’t it?” he laughed a moment later, waving an arm\naround as we entered the building. “It goes all down that side as well. This area\nused to be the main bar and the dining area behind that semi-partition. Over\nthere, in the big alcove, you’ll find a couple of dart boards and a coin-operated\npool table. There’s a jar of tokens for the table on the shelf by the darts if\nyou fancy a game while you’re here. This\narea covers most of the ground floor apart from what used to be a small private\nsitting room for the landlord’s family, a store, and the kitchen. Otty and I\ntend to use the small sitting room rather than this ginormous space, but it’s a\nbit of a mess, so we’ll park ourselves here by the bay window and here’s Otty\nbang on time with the refreshments. A latte and a cappuccino, no sprinkles\nunless you’ve changed?”

We both laughed and shook our heads as the huge blonde guy\ncarrying the tray grinned sheepishly at us before promptly beating a hasty retreat\nafter putting the tray on the small round table, still complete with several\nbeer mats.

“Shy, very shy”, Jeremy chuckled, handing around cups and\nripping open a couple of packets of biscuits. “Batchelor catering, and don’t\nworry about the beer mats. Consider them coasters, and I’ve a ton of them down\nin the cellar.” he paused and laughed. “Well, you know what I mean. We also\nintended to tidy up the private sitting room, but somehow, we didn’t quite get\naround to it. Something came up…” he broke off and giggled. “sort of apt, you\nmight say!”

“So, who’s Otty?” Chrissie asked, helping herself to a\nbourbon biscuit and why this place? Are you planning to open it as a pub again\nor something?”

“Nope,” Jeremy swallowed his mouthful of biscuit and again\ngestured around the vast room. My parents decided to purchase this white\nelephant. I was working at the Cambridge Science Park and renting a decent\nplace in the city, only a short bike ride away. Dad had always fancied himself\nas a publican, leaning on the bar and chatting to his regulars, so they got\nthis place on the cheap and soon found out why. They only ran it for a couple\nof years before closing down. A lack of customers, both regular and others, but\nthey stayed on using it as a house. Covid, unfortunately, took them in quick\nsuccession. Their own fault, silly sods, for both were avid deniers and refused\nto wear masks or social distance!

I was working from home when my landlord decided to sell, so\nit was a no-brainer at the time to move out here. I’m still working\npredominantly from home and was looking for a buyer.” he paused and grinned\noddly at us. “Was, that being the operative word, but no longer, as you’ll soon\nsee”.

“And Otty? Your latest beau, I assume?” I asked. “The latest\nversion of Mark, I presume?”

“We met Mark last year”, Chrissie interrupted. “One Sunday\nafternoon. We had a lovely walk down the embankment and then decided to visit\nthe Tower of London on a whim, neither of us ever having been, and who did we\nmeet?”

“I think you’ve already given that answer away, Sweetie”, I\nlaughed. “It was Chrissie who spotted him pushing a baby carriage. There was such\na gorgeous blonde with him holding a toddler by the arm. A Norwegian girl he’s\nmarried to and working for her father, something to do with pharmaceuticals. He\nwas in London for a conference and taking a few days holiday with his family.”
\n
\n“Two lovely kids, weren’t they?” I looked at my lover, who nodded. “It was a\nbrief meeting; we sensed he was a bit embarrassed to see us, so it was a quick\nhello and goodbye to two of his old uni friends. We didn’t mention you for\nobvious reasons. Anyway, what would we have said? We hadn’t seen you in years!”

Jeremy laughed. “Self-evident reasons I should never have\nthought. So, Markey boy with a wife and family, well, well! Mind you, I’m not\nall that surprised, for I sensed he was never quite a one hundred percenter,\nshall we say. Going straight and no longer a subbie, eh?”

Chrissie and I laughed and shared an amused look. “We might\nbeg to differ on that point,” I told him. “We chatted about that all afternoon.\nStraight maybe, but Mrs or Ms Birgit was definitely the one wearing the\ntrousers in that relationship!”

“Very definitely”, Chrissie reinforced. “On the ‘it takes\none to know one’ factor, I wouldn’t have been surprised to find Mark had a sore\nbottom under his trousers. Madam Birgit might have been a more appropriate introduction.\n‘Say goodbye to your friends now, Mark’. Perfect English, but I know an order\nto be obeyed when I hear one! So, who’s Otty then, do tell?”

Jeremy laughed. “Oh well, as long as he’s happy. I was very\nfond of Mark. Angry when he suddenly decided to up sticks and depart, of course,\nbut now, just fond memories. But you are correct about Otty. The latest and\nalmost longest, over two years now. As you may have noticed, a real big boy but\nsuch a sweetie. He reminds me of a huge puppy dog, a tad ferocious looking in some\nways but an absolute dream boy in others. He came over as part of an IT team\nfrom Hamburg and never returned.” he grinned and then added. “Well, not quite\ntrue. He went back to bring his things over and sort other stuff out and flies\nback every couple of months to see his family, of course.”

“So, you captured him.” It was my turn to laugh, but Jeremy\nremained quite serious.

“Captivated, my dear girl, captivated. “he wagged a finger\nat me. “There is a difference between captivated and captured.” he suddenly\nchuckled and winked. “Once you’ve finished your coffee, I‘ll show you the\ndifference. “Otty, that’s my pet name, so you might prefer to call him Otto is\nvery shy at first, but he’ll soon adapt. His English has improved, but he still\nfeels it’s not very good, which doesn’t help,” Jeremy confided to us. “Two\nyears plus, we’ve been together, and he’s in danger of becoming something of a\nrecluse. I have to virtually drag him around the supermarket once a week or out\nto a restaurant!”

“So that’s why you’ve asked us here,” I laughed. “A bit of\nsocial therapy for your big hunky lover”

I was a little surprised, as was Chrissie, when he gave a\nsort of startled snort and then threw his head back, roaring with laughter.\n“Far from it.” he chuckled a moment later when his fit had subsided. “Although\nI will admit that Otty is a far happier boy of late now, he doesn’t find me\nso…so, well, as you may recall, I was never as gentle as I might have been with\nsome of my lover boys?”

This time, it was Chrissie who snorted before saying. “Make\nthat all of them! I seem to recall one guy you caned a bit too enthusiastically\nwho went as far as laying charges against you for assault and battery or\nsomething similar! One weekend when we were away somewhere.”

“Don’t”, Jeremy shuddered. “That was so embarrassing.\nPolicemen may look so butch and cute in their uniforms, but having them turn up\nunannounced on one’s doorstep is far less fun!” he paused and suddenly grinned. “My, er, so-called\ncrime was fun, though, and I certainly enjoyed it much more than he did. The\nscrewing afterwards was heavenly” he gave a nostalgic little shudder. “For me\nanyway, and he might have enjoyed it too if he hadn’t spent so much time trying\nto free himself! That annoyed me so much I felt I just had to tickle his arse again\nafterwards with my cane!”

I nodded. “But a bit more than a tickle from what Mark told\nus. I gather it was a very noisy night, and if he hadn’t intervened when you\nstarted on round two, things might have been a whole lot worse!”

Jeremy sighed. “Ah yes, Markie. I used to wonder what became\nof him, and now I know. He was a damn good fuck as well. My fault we eventually\nfell out. I became a little too rough as usual one night, and we had…words!”.

“You eventually, as you put it, fell out with all of them,\nas I recall,” Chrissie told him a touch acidly. “Always because you became far\ntoo rough. I remember intervening one night with another of your casual pick-ups”.

“Did you?” Jeremy was somewhat distant. “I don’t recall. I\ndoubt Markie would approve of….well,” he stopped short and grinned at us. “Otty\ndoes, and I must say it's improved our relationship no end, both in and out of\nbed. Maybe I was beginning to get a tad too rough again. Of course, there is no\nneed to do so now, not that he ever complained, well, not too much,” he mused\nand then laughed.

Chrissie and I shared a bemused look before she burst out.\n“Jeremy, what the fuck are you talking about and what’s so damn important that\nyou virtually Shanghai us into coming up here. What gives and what was with all\nthat stuff about Scarlett’s old club about? Cut all the enigmatic crap;\notherwise, I’ll grab one of those pool cues off that rack down there and smack\nyour head with it. Jesus!” she trailed off, rolling her eyes at me.

“Promises, promises!” Jeremy laughed. “Ah, yes, the good old\nclub. Happy memories, especially the Dom and Sub Night specials. Me with my\nlatest subbie and you two arguing as usual whose turn it was to be the sub.” He\ngrinned. “I seem to recall a couple of occasions when I ended up going on my\nown because you two had argued yourselves into such a state that you locked\nyourselves in separate rooms to avoid real physical conflict!”

“Don’t exaggerate?” I told him. “Only once, and we made up\nquickly once you’d gone. In fact, that tiff led to quite a passionate night!”

“Bloody stupid house rule anyway!” Chrissie burst out. “I’ve\nseen Doms there many a time with two, three, even four subs on leashes, and yet\nthey wouldn’t admit the pair of us as Doms!”

I smiled at the look of indignation on her beautiful face,\neven after all this time and quickly intervened. When fired up, Chrissie had\none hell of a temper, and the fuse wasn’t very long. Clearly, the embarrassing\nmemory of Big Simon refusing us entry that night still rankled even though he’d\nbeen an absolute sweetie about it and so very apologetic. No accompanying sub,\nno entry!

“Jeremy!” Chrissie growled, that short temper of hers rising\nby the second. “For fucks sake, get on with it…whatever it is!”

“Hasn’t changed, has she?” He flashed a grin at me and then\nheld up a cautionary finger. “Now ladies, a quick question before we proceed to\nthe….the main event shall we call it. Ah\nah, no!” he wagged the finger at Chrissie, cutting off another outburst before\nit could start. “Now my question is this\nand going back to the club. The last Saturday night every other month,\nFebruary, April, June and so forth and all the special nights at other\ntimes. Do you recall the regular theme\nfor those nights and entry dress code?” He peered at us with a silly grin on\nhis face. “Yes, no, come on.”

Chrissie and I looked at each other and then back to Jeremy,\nwho looked suddenly disappointed, even a little dejected. Then inspiration\nseemed to strike, and he suddenly snapped his fingers and shouted. “Jazzy,\nJasmine! Come on now, surely you remember your Jazzy?”

The same light bulb flashed on in our two brains. Jazzy,\nJasmine, our beautiful ponygirl who’d accompanied us to the ponyplay nights so\nmany times. Well, not that many times, considering the nights were two months\napart, nor had she been all that beautiful. Middle-aged, plump, plain looking\nand on the short side but once in pony harness and warpaint and aided by the\nsubdued blue and red club lighting, she was perfectly acceptable to her\ntemporary young Mistress’s for the evening. She was our entry ticket, if for no\nother reason.

Neither of us was the least bit interested in real equines,\nnor had a pony ever featured in our Christmas present list when we were young,\nand besides, neither of our families could have come anywhere near to affording\none. Ponyplay nights at the club, though, were by far and away our favourite\nfetish nights, and there were some fantastic ponies on display, not to mention\ntheir sexy owners.

The only problem back then was that neither one of us was\nprepared to be the one wearing the pony kit. The club could have doubled as a\ntheatrical costumier for fetish events and parties, having a sizeable wardrobe\nof costumes and items for hire. They catered for all their own internal events\nand had a nice little sideline in external hires for private parties and even\noccasional commercial use by television companies and the like.

The pony outfits were both revealing and restricting. That\nwas perfectly fine if you weren’t the one wearing it because the club was very\n‘hands-on’; at least it was for those adopting the dominant role. Those with a\nnatural submissive nature seemed to relish such treatment, but neither Chrissie\nnor I belonged in that category. The idea of spending an entire evening being\ngroped and probed in the most intimate places by virtual strangers held little\nappeal. Likewise, being deprived of the use of your hands and sucking on a bit\ngag all night, dependent on someone else as to whether you were allowed a drink\nor not!

We’d both given it a go, but once and once only was one time\ntoo many, so that would have been it, as the saying goes for those entertaining\nnights, had we not met Jazzy. Jasmine, her full name, not that we ever called\nher that. Her owner, Miriam, had called her that when she gave her to us, and\nwe saw no reason to dignify her beyond her lowly equine status, so Jazzy she\nremained.

We’d been arguing about it somewhat loudly in the club one\nnight, with poor Jeremy caught up as referee and peacemaker. Neither of us, as\nI’ve said, was submissive, and although I didn’t have the same fiery\ntemperament as my lover, I was no doormat. Thus, ‘Domestics’, if I can borrow\nthat police term, while not a frequent occurrence, was not unknown in our\nrelationship!

It had been early on a weekday evening and relatively quiet\nin the club when Miriam, who’d been sitting at a nearby table with her latest\nyoung girlfriend, suddenly stood up and approached our secluded booth, holding\nher hands over her ears.

“Heavens, ladies, please keep it down a little. Here I am on\nthe verge of persuading that shy, sweet little thing into my bed for the first\ntime, not to mention paddling her sexy little bottom beforehand, and she’s\nhardly listening to a single word. Her entire attention seems focused on your\nlittle squabble! What the problem anyway between these two lovely ladies, Jezza?”\nshe’d asked, squeezing into our booth and seating herself next to Chrissie,\nwho’d obligingly moved up.

Jeremy hated any abbreviations to his name, but Miriam was\none of those who could get away with it, nor did we take offence at the\ninterruption. Miriam was a popular club member, a good pal of Scarlett’s and a\nregular patron. A tall, willowy forty-something blonde, well known to West End\ntheatre audiences and those in the provinces. Out in the wilderness as she\ndismissed her countrywide tours. She rarely did TV or Films, preferring to\npreserve a degree of anonymity rather than being a ‘face’ or a ‘celebrity’ as\nshe derided other members of her profession. ‘Doesn’t need the money either’,\nJeremy had whispered when pointing her out on one of our early visits to the\nclub. ‘Daddy had been a multi-millionaire, mostly property, so she’s got places\npaying rent all over the country. Works for fun, plus it gives her access to a\nplentiful supply of pretty young wannabes to seduce’.

Jeremy explained that the debate had grown heated as neither\n‘lovely lady’ was willing to compromise over the club’s pony nights. Nor did we\nwant to forgo attendance at such nights.

Miriam had laughed and shrugged her shoulders. “Is that all!\nElementary, my dear ladies, as Mr Holmes would have said. That was my very\nfirst theatrical role, you know—one solitary line but not that one. I played\nthe maid at 221B Baker Street. ‘A visitor for you, Mister Holmes, ' she\nlaughed, adding, ‘and of course, on my third night, the bloody door handle\nstuck after I’d shown the important visitor in. There I was, tugging and\npulling at the damn thing, the entire flimsy backdrop shaking, a certain prominent\nactor with ‘Sir’ in front of his name patiently awaiting my exit and the whole\naudience beginning to titter! Cutting it short, I was about to panic when the\nnotable actor decided to ignore me and carry on while nodding his head for my\nbenefit. I took the hint and gratefully skedaddled stage right!’

Anyway, following up from her and cutting it short, her\nsolution was to give us Jazzy. She was growing bored with the woman anyway,\nplus she wasn’t exactly her ‘cup of tea’ as the saying goes. She is not exactly\nyouthful, nor eye candy face or figure-wise, but eminently spankable! Those\nwere her exact words a couple of evenings later when she tossed the near-naked,\ntightly harnessed woman’s reins over to us without so much as a single goodbye\nto Jazzy. Hardly surprising since her other pony, suitably restrained and\nharnessed, was the same shy, sweet little thing she’d briefly abandoned to join\nthe three of us that previous evening. She had been spanked too, well spanked\nby the look of her pert young bottom!

Jazzy was forty-seven years old, plump, saggy, flat-breasted,\nwith the sort of face that wouldn’t have launched a small rowboat, far less a\nthousand vengeful ships. Helen of Troy she wasn’t, but a dutiful, obedient and\nwilling ponygirl she was—likewise our ticket to some memorable nights both in\nand out of the club. Jazzy was divorced, a frumpy librarian by day, a devoted\ngrandmother to her single-mother daughters, two cute kids, and our personal\nponygirl and regular pain pig two nights a week! Indeed, Jeremy wasn’t the only\none disturbing the peace as he played too enthusiastically with his latest\n‘boy’. Miriam had been no saint, but we probably exceeded her in terms of\ncasual cruelty.

Jazzy both loved and\nhated us for much as she needed to submit; she was no natural lesbian, and it\nwas a little strange that she preferred her owner to be female rather than\nmale. Miriam had rarely used her sexually, whereas we, of course, were\ndifferent and very demanding. We didn’t take no for an answer and weren’t\nbothered about her appearance. Why should we be when her face was hidden behind\nher bridle and bit almost all the time, and when the latter was removed, her\nhead was usually buried deep between a pair of legs and still out of sight!

“What happened to her, by the way?” Jeremy asked. “She was\nstill with you when I moved out. I always had the impression she was\ncontinually on the verge of quitting but never did despite how badly you\ntreated her”.

“It was always consensual, well, sort of “, Chrissie amended\nand then shrugged her shoulders. “You know, the whole time we had her visiting,\nI can’t recall a single conversation with her, not a long one anyway. Not a\nnormal sort of chat, can you?”

I shook my head. “Not now, you come to mention it. We let\nher in, and she stripped. Then we harnessed her and bitted her, then it was\neither time for the taxi to the club or the bedroom. Beyond a few basics, I\nsuppose we knew very little about her.” I thought about it momentarily and\nadded, “It never seemed relevant, did it? We never regarded her as a friend or\nanything like that, did we? She was always Jazzy, our submissive ponygirl, and\nwe treated her as one!”

“To answer your question”, Chrissie turned to Jeremy. “She\nmoved up North, oh, perhaps a few months after you left. Her daughter moved in\nwith a guy up in Newcastle, and she took a job in the main library up there to\nbe near the kids. She phoned us one evening to say she wouldn’t be coming\nanymore, and that was that. Jazzy disappeared from our lives just as abruptly\nas she’d arrived that evening when Miriam gave her to us,” she finished with a\nbig sigh.

“And never found a suitable replacement, I’ll wager?” Jeremy\nchuckled and winked at me.

“Nothing lasting and none that were quite as …..” I paused\nto think.

“Quite as thrashable”, Chrissie added with a sigh of her\nown. “My, how you could thrash that fat arse of hers and know no matter what\nshe shrieked or wailed, the fat bitch would always return for more!”

“Yeah, I remember knocking on your bedroom door more than\nonce”, he chuckled. “Jazzy could certainly hit a few high notes!”

“Hitting being the appropriate term”, Chrissie smiled\nnostalgically. “The odd ones we’ve had since have come nowhere near to old\nJazzy, along with her big saggy tits and bottom. It’s all ‘please no more and\ndon’t leave any marks’, she mimicked in a plaintive voice. “Bloody useless\nwannabes’ she growled, pulling a face.

“We’ve virtually given up looking for a suitable subbie”, I\nsighed and added with a wry smile. “Had more than a few arguments as well\ntrying to persuade each other to play bottom bitch!”

Jeremy nodded and looked from Chrissie to me and back again\nas though considering something. Then, he half turned and seemed to stare down\nthe long room at something we couldn’t see his tongue licking around his lips a\ncouple of times.

“Well?” I said.

“Yeah, spit it out”, Chrissie added. “I know that look, so\nget it off your chest. I assume it’s to do with why you've dragged us both up\nhere and not just to reminisce or admire this derelict place.” she waved a hand\naround.

“It’s not derelict, well, not inside”, he half protested.\n“So, you both miss your Jazzy then, your very submissive Jazzy and all you\ncould do to her?”

“Of course we do, but…..” Chrissie stopped mid-sentence\nabruptly and gave him a long, hard look. A very suspicious look. “What's this\nall about, Jezza?” she said very provocatively. “What are you up to?’

“Have you heard anything from Scarlett since she left London?”\nI asked him. I knew how quickly he could explode over something like that, the\nquestion suddenly occurring to me as a distraction. “I thought you were good friends?”

He paused and shook his head, looking a little sad. “No, not\na thing and as you said, I thought we were friends, even intimates. She used to\ntell me all her worries, but nothing apart from what she told us that final\nevening. I think she must have decided to burn all her old bridges and start\nanew,” he finished with a regretful shrug and then seemed to shake that mood\noff. He startled us by suddenly clapping his hands and rising abruptly to his\nfeet with an enormous Cheshire cat-style grin on his face. “Anyway, come” he repeated.

“Steady on”, Chrissie said, putting a hand to the table he’d\nbanged into and spilling his coffee, which he’d hardly touched.

“Oh pooh, never mind that”, he wafted a hand downwards. “What’s\na drop of coffee compared to all the beer that’s been slopped in here over the\nages? Otty will clear that up in half a sec. Come on, I’ve something to show\nyou, or perhaps I should say someone,” he chortled, giddy with excitement. “I\nwas going to build the surprise up slowly, but…. oh, I can’t wait any longer.\nCome on, ladies. I know I shall go pop if I try to keep it a secret for one\nmoment longer. This way, if you please!”

It's impossible to hop up and down on the spot with excitement\nand walk at the same time. Still, Jeremy seemed to be managing it as we\nfollowed him out of the pub's back door, then through an abandoned and heavily overgrown\npicnic beer garden full of rotting wooden furnishings towards one of the big\noutbuildings. The guy was suddenly so hyped that I thought he might be verging\non a fit or something.

I shot a look at Chrissie and got a similar look in return,\nalong with a bewildered shrug of her slim shoulders. ‘What the hell? We’re here\nnow,’ was the message I read in her body language.

We stopped by a solid-looking, blue-painted wooden door. He\nsuddenly became ultra serious and hesitant as he turned to give us a sheepish\ngrin before putting a finger to his lips in an exaggerated theatrical gesture.\nAll that pent-up enthusiasm seemed suddenly to wilt away into thin air.

“Jeremy!” Chrissie growled impatiently.

The term Chesire Cat crossed my mind again, looking at the sudden\nsmug smile on his face. A cat that was not only happy but thoroughly contented\nas though it had just swallowed a whole dish of cream. An expression that grew even more amused as\nhe glanced from Chrissie to me and back several times and then started tapping\nwith one finger on a somewhat complicated-looking modern electronic keypad,\ntotally at odds with the faded peeling paint on the heavy old door. Presumably,\nit was a complicated sequence of letters and numbers because it took him three\ngoes before the door obligingly clicked open.

“All thumbs today”, he’d apologised to the impatient\nChrissie. The fact that he was literally\ntrembling with excitement didn’t help. I saw Chrissie open her mouth as though\nto say something, but then she closed it again and turned to me, rolling her\neyes instead.

He winked and quickly put a finger to his lips again to\nsilence Chrissie before she gave vent to another outburst. Then, pulling open\nthe big door, he said that single word again, beckoning with a crooked finger.

“Come”.

*****

“So, ladies, what do you think? Not bad, eh!” Jeremy did a\nsilly pirouette as he waved one hand towards the enormous figure in the centre\nof the seemingly dilapidated old building. At least, that’s the impression we\ninitially had walking towards it. Neglected and abandoned in keeping with its\nimmediate surroundings.

Once inside and he’d flicked on the lights, we saw why he’d\ngot himself so worked up and excited. It or he was standing in the middle of\nthe windowless room that looked considerably better from the inside than the\noutside. The interior had recently been painted, the walls a glossy cream\ncolour, the visible woodwork a dark brown and once past the threshold, the\nconcrete floor was covered in a soft layer of sand and sawdust that scrunched\nbeneath my feet.

That distinctive odour of fresh paint still lingered, but it\nwas overlaid and outclassed by another smell that caused both of us to wrinkle\nour noses in disgust the moment we entered, and a puzzled look flashed between\nus. However, any budding comment was instantly stifled, partly by Jeremy’s\nwords but mostly as we took in that statuesque figure before us. A long taunt\ntether ran from its high neck collar, disappearing into the rafters above. It\neven had a spotlight trained on it, although the lightening around the big room\nwas already quite bright.

“Not a bad centrepiece, eh Ladies? Now do come,” he repeated\nexcitedly, ushering us forward with both hands, for we’d automatically stopped\nthe moment our feet hit that floor covering as our respective brains reacted to\nwhat our eyes were telling us. “No dawdling, ladies. Ding ding, move on down\nthe bus, please,” he laughed, pulling the heavy wooden door closed and ramming\nhome a sizeable bolt. “No sightseers, no day trippers, no loitering in the\nentrance, eh!” he laughed as we both turned to look at him, neither of us\nsaying a word.

“All this is pretty new.” he waved a hand around. “Had a\ngang in to do it: local builder and his chaps. A very nice guy who apparently used\nto drink here quite regularly when he was younger. He wanted to do up the\noutside of this old outbuilding as well, but besides sorting out the rusty door\nhinges and a bit of pointing and roof repair, I told him to leave well alone. I\nwanted it to look like…well, you know what I mean, you saw the outside. Hardly\nworthy of a second glance, but I do need to do something about that damn keypad;\nway too obvious at the moment. Now come along;\nlet’s not keep Samson waiting.”

“Samson!” Chrissie exclaimed as we edged forward, with\nJeremy bobbing up and down in a mixture of frustration at our hesitancy and suppressed\nexcitement.

“That’s what I call him. I was never lucky enough to find\nmyself a big boy as submissive as your Jazzy, and lord knows, I looked hard\nenough, and now I don’t have to. Impressive, isn’t he? And I adore his\ncolouring. Look at the way he gleams in the light!”

“My God, he's enormous Chrissie exclaimed. I said nothing, for her answer mirrored my\nthoughts exactly as I looked at the figure before us.

“Come on, don’t be shy; he won’t bite.” he gave a\nhigh-pitched nervous giggle. “He can’t anyway, not with that bit in his mouth!\nI've only had this big boy for a few weeks, so he's not used to displaying his\nmagnificent body yet, nor, of course, to seeing strangers. Not that I expect\nhe’ll ever see that many, probably only you two if everything, well, once we\nget things sorted,” he paused and beamed a massive smile at us. “Come on, girls,\nbut watch where you step!” he pointed and chuckled. “Pony pee pee and poopy\npoop!”

“Things sorted! What things?” Chrissie repeated, her\nattention wavering between the massive ponyboy, stirring restlessly as though\nfighting the pristine white leather harness that bound him and contrasted\ncompletely against his jet-black glossy skin. His heavy hoof boots shuffled in\nthe dirt and muck, making us gag slightly as the stench of human shit hit us\nanew.

“Of course, I didn’t tell him you were coming”, Jeremy\nshrugged indifferently“, but then why should I. He can’t see you because of\nthat blindfold, but he can hear us, every word”, he chuckled and reached up to\nrun a finger, down the man’s bulging biceps making him jump and wriggle even\nmore. “He can feel me, though, and probably sense my presence, maybe even smell\nme. I would imagine that by now, he’s become accustomed to the stench of his\nown damn shit and piss. You noted the fragrant atmosphere when we entered, no\ndoubt?”

“You mean that foul stink?” I snapped, looking downwards\nwith Chrissie following suit.

“It's all down his legs”, she murmured, her voice caught\nbetween awe and horror. “He’s even standing in the fucking stuff!”

Jeremy nodded. “Standard stable aroma, essence of\nponyboy, as I call it. Yes, well, he\ncan’t help it, not with that nice tail sprouting out of his arse. It's fixed to\na plug holding his rectal passage open all the time, so he’s got no control,\nnone at all,” he giggled. “No control at all over anything. Imagine that, and\nit's so delicious, for me anyway! He’s not being impolite, but I doubt he’d say\nhello even if he weren’t sucking on a big dildo attached to that bit. He spends\nmost of his time gagged and will for the foreseeable future until it sinks into\nhis dense brain that uttering human sounds is not advisable.” he paused and\nwinked, adding, “Consequences!”

“Consequences”, I\nrepeated as Chrissie moved cautiously nearer to the captive ponyboy.

“Action and reaction”, Jeremy laughed, watching Chrissie.\n“He acts, and I react swiftly and savagely.” he motioned with his arm. “Very\namusing for one of us and highly educational for the other party! The posture\ncollar keeps his head up and looking fixedly to his front. I eschewed the\ntraditional behind-the-back style of armbinder and locked his hands in those\nmitts attached to that wide belt. It stops him from touching anything, and why\ndeny myself the sight of those delicious pecs, shoulders and bulging biceps by\nhiding them away.” he giggled delightedly again and ran his whole palm over the\nglistening black skin again. “Freshly oiled”, he added as that tightly\nharnessed figure shook from head to hoof, but was that pleasure at his Master's\ntouch or the opposite, I wondered. Surely not the latter?

“I did warn you,” Jeremy said as Chrissie made a sudden\nexclamation, looking down at her calf boot and twisting her foot to see the\nsole. “We’ve been experimenting with his diet a lot recently. I like to keep\nhim a shade on the loose side, runny but not too runny, but lately, he’s been a bit too loose. Just\nwipe your foot in the floor dirt, that’s what I do, and let it dry”.

“Thanks.” Chrissie's tone was flat as she did what he\nsuggested before turning to me. “Sweetie”, she hissed quietly out of the side\nof her mouth in a low but urgent tone and beckoned towards me. “Come and look\nat this.” She sounded a little odd, unbalanced, kind of awed, shocked and\nexcited simultaneously. Her words and insistence prompted another delighted\ngiggle from Jeremy, followed by a stifled chuckle that made him choke and cough\nfor a couple of seconds.

Neither of us took the slightest notice as we stared at\nSamson from behind, looked at each other in total silence, and then back to the\nrestrained figure before us as Jeremy chuckled, “Feel free to touch, ladies. There\nis no charge here, none at all. No restriction in my private petting zoo.”

“He isn’t, is he?” Chrissie was whispering, perhaps without\nrealising it.

I nodded, for I could see no other explanation. There was\nanother reason why Jeremy hadn’t used the conventional armbinder on his pony:\nit left his back free and open to abuse, and someone, presumably Jeremy, had\ncertainly abused it. Not just the man's back either, for his glossy black\nbuttocks and thighs were also a mass of bruised and welted flesh, from red to\ndeep purple in various shades and hues, and all of it looked extremely painful!

“Come and have a look from the front when you’ve finished\nback there”, Jeremy said, watching us both closely. His mouth was still smiling,\nbut his eyes were wary and cautious. “Have you ever seen a cock this big? What\na monster! Talk about stallion endowment! God, \nit’s impressive, even curled up and caged like a fire hose and so very\nresponsive to the touch,” he giggled. “He hates that, of course, but there is\nnothing he can do to stop himself rising to the occasion as it were and a very\nimpressive rise it is if I allow it some freedom! As you ladies know, I’ve\nnothing to complain about myself, but this monster does make me feel a tad inferior!”

We heard, and yet we didn’t hear as he gleefully babbled on\nabout that cock, a subject far dearer to his heart than ours for very evident\nreasons. Our focus was still on Samson as a whole, and I felt Chrissie's hand\nsteal into mine as though for reassurance. I wondered if mine was as hot and\nsweaty as hers felt.

“You should see how he writhes when we reach a certain point\nof teasing, and who knows?” Jeremy paused and chuckled again. “Perhaps one day\nI might take pity on him and go that teeny bit further that he gets so\ndesperate about! It would be interesting to see how far he could spurt and how\nmuch with these massive plumbs of his,” he concluded with another silly giggle.\n“That cock cage was the biggest I could find, by the way, and it's still a bit\nof a squeeze when I put it away despite the ice cubes and whatever else!” He\ngave a short laugh and tapped the large bulbous circumcised tip of the enormous\ncaptive penis with his forefinger. “And boy, does he just love that, NOT, along\nwith everything else!” he emphasised with a wicked chuckle, waving one hand\ntowards the nearest wall.

“Wow,” I said, eyes running along an impressive collection\nof punishment implements. Whips in various sizes, crops, canes, tawses,\nfloggers and various paddles in different shapes, sizes and materials. Chrissie\nand I had a draw half full of similar items but nothing on that scale.

“A modest collection,” Jeremy acknowledged, “but it suffices\nfor now. It will grow, of course, and perhaps I will need some toys with a\ngreater bite, shall we say, as Samson’s splendid hide grows more accustomed in\nthe years to come!”

My lover's hand squeezed mine tighter, and we shared another\nlong, questioning look before doing as he’d suggested and moving closer. If\nthis was scene, then this big guy must be one hell of a masochist to go through\nall this humiliation and pain. I mean, yes, we’d been pretty nasty to old Jazzy\nat times, but never anything on the scale of this guy’s buttocks. Had Jeremy indeed\nfound her equivalent in the size and sex he liked, or…. Chrissie's barely\naudible question lingered in my mind. ‘He isn’t, is he?’

That question of Samson’s ‘willing’ participation was\ngrowing ever more significant in our minds and one we were increasingly afraid\nto ask, but the final clue was answered a moment later. Jeremy suddenly shot\noff to one side, grabbed an old wooden box, and then used it to stand beside\nhis captive pony or perhaps captive stallion, taking the size of the captive\nfigure into account. Standing on the box, he reached for the simple black cloth\nblindfold, pulled it off the man’s head, and held it out. “Eye shade, three to\na pack on eBay,” he waved it at us. “Dirt cheap and supposed to help you sleep\non planes. It does what I want, so there's no point in spending good money on\nexpensive leather stuff, especially as I don’t use it on him often. I adore\nseeing the look in his eyes when I play with him! Look at the way he’s trying\nto squint down at you two. Aren’t posture collars fun? ”

He was talking as he climbed down and put the box back in\nits place, tucking the eye shade into his pocket as he did so. What was the\nword Chrissie had used? Enormous! He was massive, especially compared to Jeremy, who perhaps reached five-three in his\nbare feet. Samson must have topped that by almost a foot, plus those\nknee-length hoof boots added the better part of another six. Lightweight or\nbantamweight, whatever that was, versus a massive heavyweight, the guy was\nbuilt like one of those big world champion boxing guys.

That size difference registered more subconsciously in my\nmind as I watched for it was Samson's eyes that mine had fixed on as he ripped\noff that shade. They bulged outwards, expressing a raft of raw emotions, none positive\nor rational. There was madness hovering on the edge in those staring eyes,\nalong with a heap of other things that you didn’t need a degree in psychology\nto interpret. Rage, anger, frustration, hatred, humiliation, disbelief, pain,\nshock and a chilling, almost frightening desire to do murder in the most\nshocking and violent manner! Question answered I decided with a strange\ntingling chill.

I did shiver, and from the tremor in her hand, so had\nChrissie just before she freed herself and did as Jeremy had urged. Under\nnormal circumstances, she was the last person I would have expected to reach\nout a tentative hand and touch a guy's cock, regardless of size. In this\ninstance, though, I sensed she was fascinated by that captive organ that\nvisibly twitched at her touch.

Its owner vainly attempted to shuffle backwards, but that\nneck tether was so tight all it managed was an inch or two and then tried to\nsuck its midriff in and make a banana shape to avoid those curious fingers.\nPretty pointless in terms of what it gained and only seemed to piss Jeremy off,\nwho promptly strode to the wall, grabbed a long whip from the rack and in one\nfluid movement, twisted around and sent the tip expertly whistling across to\nland the last six or so inches on his big stallions left buttock cheek.

The suppressed, muted squeal Samson let out effectively served\nto answer further that question we’d both been fearful of asking, and yet, at\nthe same time, it suddenly didn’t seem quite so fearful. Incredible, yes,\nunbelievable, yes, even exciting, but somehow not quite so improbable! I\nexperienced that same spine-tingling chill, but it seemed far less threatening\nthis time.

“Stay, boy, stand!” He ordered in a very commanding voice.\n“Stand proud and still for my guests, or I’ll make you sorry!”

“Jeez, get a feel of this lot, Honey”, Chrissie giggled and\nthen snapped, “Oh no, you don’t. You stay like you’ve been told unless you want\nthis lot squeezed to jelly!” she grabbed the entire cage and pulled on it as her\nvictim tried desperately to draw further away and yet somehow not move either.

Ridiculous and repulsive was how she’d once described the\nmale genitalia early on in our growing relationship, but from her tone and look,\nthat wasn’t the case under these circumstances. I cast a wary look at her and\nthen did as she urged as the captive stallion reached a point beyond which\nfurther retreat was impossible, although his whole body was quivering in\nsuppressed hatred and anger. It was almost tangible in its strength, and I\nwouldn’t have been surprised had he been radiating heat. Any heat, though, was\ngoing in the opposite direction as Jeremy casually raised his arm and flicked\nthe tip of his whip out a second time upon that same buttock.

“Wowzer”, Chrissie mouthed silently as the figure squealed\nand jumped under her fingers as the whip struck. There was a gleam in her eye\nthat I doubt Samson would have liked had he been able to see it!

I didn’t feel quite the same revision towards male genitalia,\nindeed. Unlike Chrissie, I’d had a cock inside me a couple of times during my\nmiddle teens as I experimented with my burgeoning sexuality. The outcome of\nsuch had been somewhat disappointing, not to mention frustrating, until a local\nbabysitter cured me of such frustrations. Not mine, I hasten to add, but an\noversight by a somewhat scatterbrained neighbour led to her double booking me\nand another girl one evening as she and her husband celebrated their fifth\nwedding anniversary. We both turned up virtually simultaneously and, to save\nour temporary employees indecisive blushes, decided to share the chore and fee,\nalthough to be fair and because they came back almost two hours later than\nthey’d said, hubby paid us both in full and with a bonus!

The kiddie was no trouble whatsoever all evening, and we\nspent the early part of it sitting side by side watching a movie. Desert Hearts\n1986, Patty, Patricia had brought it with her to watch, not that she’d expected\nto do so in company. It was the first lesbian movie I’d ever seen, and things\njust happened. One moment, we’d been sitting apart eating popcorn, and then we\nwere close together, very close, and her right hand was around behind my back\nand exploring my right breast, and we’d swapped the popcorn for each other's\nlips

I don’t know how Patty felt when they paid us, and hubby\ndrove us home in the early hours, but I felt somewhat guilty. Yes, we had done\nour best to straighten and tidy their big double bed, but neither of us had\ngiven much thought to their kid, and thank heavens they were so late coming\nhome. Earlier and, the ‘coming’ would have had an entirely different meaning,\nfor Patty was a year older and far more experienced than I was. I don’t know\nabout her; I’m pretty sure she enjoyed the evening, but for me, it was my first\ntaste of many a future heavenly evening and night!

Strangely, I never saw her again after that one night. She\nattended a different school, and her family moved away soon after. At the time,\nI was somewhat disappointed, but in retrospect, I suspect she may have already\nhad a girlfriend and might have been deliberately avoiding me.

But that’s going a long way around to say that I wasn’t\nquite the ‘cock virgin’ that Chrissie was, plus I’d handled the occasional\ncaptive cock on those club nights, much to Chrissie's disgust! No way, even after a few drinks, would my\ngirlfriend demean herself touching such ‘horrid’ things!

That’s why I was surprised as I bent down in response to her\nurgings and stretched out a tentative hand. Doing so was very tempting,\nespecially given his probable circumstances. I suspected Chrissie's apparent\neagerness on this occasion was because she’d already accepted what we both\nsuspected, though it was yet to be confirmed, incredible though it would be.

How humiliating it must been for him to be inspected like a\npiece of meat. Despite its bent captivity, that cock was indeed long, very soft\nand wet at the tip. I imagined it must be awe-inspiring when hard and fully\nerect. His balls were also held captive under that stainless steel cage\nseparated by a metal band. They were also huge and deliciously squidgy as he\nsquirmed to my exploratory touch.

“Feel his arse”, Chrissie whispered, having moved on.\n“Whoops, I think it’s a little bit tender in parts”, she giggled as the captive\nfigure suddenly lurched from side to side, mewing pathetically through his\nmouth bit. I noted she’d already made the mental shift from ‘him to it’.

“Quite a few parts.” I’d imagine Jeremy observed joining us,\nhaving swapped his long whip for a shorter, thicker version. He was absently\ncoiling it as I stopped running my hand over sensitive, welted flesh and stood\nup. I noted that he no longer had that wary look on his cheerful countenance.\nHe looked much more relaxed, like the Jeremy I remembered from our student\ndays, so I took the plunge straight into the deep end.

“This is not ponyplay; it’s not play at all, right? I\nchallenged him, sensing Chrissie rising to her feet behind me. “Don’t try and\ndeny it, Jezza”, I deliberately added, using one of his pet hates as Chrissie\nhad done only a few minutes before. “One look at this poor sod’s eyes, never\nmind his bottom and the way you just used that whip! What's your game? What in\nGod's name is going on here?”

“Jezza, really, tch”, he admonished, looking a touch pained\nand then laughed. “Three questions in one, almost a holy or, in this case,\nperhaps an unholy trinity would be more apt! But to answer, yes and no. Yes to\npony, but no to play! Well, not play for my splendid boy here. Nor is it a game,\nor if it is,” he held up the whip, “there will only ever be one winner because\nonly I get to throw the dice and never get sent to jail and as for God?” he\npaused and then in one smooth motion half twisted and with one flick of his arm\nsent his whip flying out once more this time to leave its cruel mark on the top\nSamson’s left thigh and make him dance again.

“Cool!” I heard Chrissie say somewhat admiringly.

“A-Lemon-Tree, my dear Watson”, Jeremy laughed, waging a\nfinger at her. “Think about that one for a second, and as for God, then so far\nas this wretched creature is concerned, I am its God….or perhaps Devil !” he\nshrugged and gave a long, wicked chuckle as he coiled his whip again. “It makes\nno difference to me and certainly not to him!”

I turned to exchange yet another look with Chrissie…yes, but\nno? This was sheer wanton, undiluted cruelty, yet also exciting. A shiver ran\nthrough me, but the implications and potential ramifications were mind-blowing.\nWhat the hell were we getting ourselves involved in? I watched the poor thing\njump a little and wince as my girlfriend bent to examine that latest painful\naddition to his well-stripped skin. Was she asking herself those same questions?\nI wondered with a touch of irritation, for I suspected she wasn’t”.

“I notice you can't keep your hands off him”, I snapped,\nsounding a tad more snappily than I intended.

Chrissie stood up and gave me a calm, questioning look.\n“Hey, okay, keep your hair on, babe, it's just so fucking cool. It’s not like\nhe’s a threat, is he?” she giggled. “My kind of guy, in fact. Go on, Jeremy,\nspill the beans. How did you get him, or should I say it, tell all.”

Jeremy laughed delightedly. “I knew you two would\nunderstand, kindred spirits and all that.” he beamed at Chrissie, although the\nlook he threw in my direction was a shade more uncertain, and then he pointed a\nfinger at her. “But it’s no use trying to be nosy because I won’t tell. My lips\nare sealed on that subject.” he smiled at us and then drew the finger across\nhis lips. “Zipped!”

“Jeremy”, Chrissie growled ominously, taking a step forward,\nmaking him take a couple back and hold his hands palm outwards as though to\nward her off.

“Nope,” he shook his head. “Look, I’m sorry, but I’m not\ngoing to say anything on that subject; no, wait”, he held up his hand. “I… well,\nthere is no need for you two to know, so can we please leave it at that? So\nplease trust me. It is best left that way, but I will say two things, okay.\nNumber one, nobody and I do mean nobody knows he’s here other than you two,\nOtty and me. Well, strictly speaking, there is one more, but I’ll cover that\nshortly, and they pose no threat, non at all.” He winked mischievously before\ncontinuing. “Two, there is zero chance of him being found. Nobody will come\nhere or anywhere near to look for him, period. End of discussion, finito, no\narguments, right!”

“But”

“No buts, no anything, I know you.” This time, the finger\njabbed in my direction. “Ah ah, no, not so much as a single, but if you\nplease”.

Chrissie and I shared yet another of those communicative\nglances, a very long one this time. Neither of us said a word. We didn’t need\nto, not after sharing a bed for half a decade and more, but in a sense that\nlengthy visual interchange served instead of a complete and lengthy\nconversation.

“Alright,” I answered slowly, speaking for the both of us.\n“Chrissie, I sensed, was about as hot as I’d ever seen her. Outwardly, she\nseemed her usual self, but underneath, she was simmering, coming nicely to the\nboil, and poor Samson was the focus of that, for she was fascinated with him\nand his predicament. A highly illegal predicament, as we’d both suspected,\nbut…and it was indeed a big but, a huge in capitals BUT, that was the root of\nher excitement, and I will admit, mine.

We’d seen and frequently heard plenty of Jeremy’s ‘subbie’\nboys in the old house share days, hadn’t we, and none had raised much interest\nin either of us. I’ll admit a couple of them had caught my eye, for there was\nno denying that Jeremy had a good eye for cute masculine hunks. Chrissie, on\nthe other hand, was indifferent. I was the sole focus of her attention in those\nearly days, and I suppose that we’d been akin to a pair of virgin newlyweds greedily\ndiscovering each other's bodies and the pleasure therein. Later, we’d had first\nJenny and then Jazzy to entertain us.

Looking at my lover now, I could see and sense a difference.\nThere was a look in her eyes that I’d never seen before and wasn’t entirely\nsure I liked, and I suspected at least one other person in the immediate\nvicinity would soon like it even less. I got the distinct impression that for\nthe first time in her life, Chrissie was showing an interest in a member of the\nopposite sex, although I doubt it was sex she had in mind. Previously, all\nJeremy’s subbies had been, well, if not entirely enthusiastic participants in\nhis more punishing games, then at least consensual so far as their submission\nwent, whereas…

“Well, I guess that’s one convert,” he said as Chrissie\ngiggled at the response her curious fingers had drawn from the helpless figure\nas she resumed her examination of the squirming wretch.

“One and a half, a cautious half”, I added, watching my\nlover amusing herself by way of Samson's incarcerated manhood for the second\ntime. I had the distinct impression that were I to walk out now, I’d be driving\nback to London on my own! Jeremy grinned at me, and I knew he was thinking along\nthe same lines. I doubted if any other man had ever received so much attention\nfrom Chrissie, and certainly not in that area, not that he was in any way a\nlucky boy in that respect. It was turning me on, though I had to admit to\nmyself. “Maybe one and a cautious threequarters”, I amended.

“No need for caution”, he said seriously with no hint of\nhumour. “I told you, there is no risk, not to you, Chrissie, or me. Now, please\nrelax; I sense a certain, what shall we call it, up-tightness, if I can put it\nthat way. There's no need to feel sympathy or sorry for the miserable creature,\nfor he’s crossed that boundary between human and animal, at least in my eyes\nand Otty's. He’s a ponyboy, my ponyboy, my splendid animal, a living sex toy\nfor my pleasure and exists now for no other purpose other than to serve us.”

“But…”

“Ah ah!” He raised a finger again. “I said no buts, did I\nnot? Mindset, dear, mindset. He’s an animal, an animal that I own to do with as I wish when I wish and\ndeserves no buts, no foolish sympathy, for nothing is going to change his\nfate!” he looked at me questioningly. “Unless you're going to use your phone\nand summon the boys in blue with the pointy hats? I used to have a thing for\npolice officers. I even had one as a boyfriend for a bit, but that was after\nyour time when I moved up here. Well?”

“Otty too”, I murmured, looking at the restless Samson still\nhelplessly squirming as a small curious hand explored his tail and the anal\nplug that it sprouted from.

“But of course. He’s mine, but I allow Otty to play with him\nfrom time to time. Otty adores oral sex, whereas I am not and never have been\nbig on sucking cocks. Having my own sucked, yes, but so far as Otty's lovely\nstalk goes, special occasions only. Usually, he had to make do with a hand job\nwhen I’d finished fucking him” he paused and grinned, waving a hand over\ntowards his equipment rack. “We have several suitable ring gags that ensure our\nsizeable trains can enter the tunnel without him getting naughty teeth-wise! I\nrather get the impression that my gorgeous ponyboy hates swallowing love juice\nas much as having his pony pussy filled with the same!” he laughed but quickly\ncut it off to give me another penetrating look. “Well?

“Well, what?”

“Are we singing from the same hymn sheet?”

I glanced at Chrissie, who was having herself a ball, no pun\nintended and back to Jeremy. “don’t be silly. I looked from him to where he’d\npointed, spotting the items he’d mentioned dangling from a hook and shook my\nhead. Not so much in disapproval but more, well, it seemed the thing to do, and\nhe was being so damn casual about it all. \n“I suppose it helps when you want to clean his teeth as well”, I\nsnapped.

“Uh-huh.” He grinned and shook his head. “No need; I leave\nthe tedious maintenance tasks to Otty, and all he has to do is squeeze those\nbig balls hard and wave a toothbrush in its face. Samson is not stupid after\nall, and he’s got such nice white gnashers!” he finished with an odd little\nsigh.

“Yes? What about them?”

“It’s just not the same with a ring gag, and of course, we\nknow what he’d do if we tried without. I mean, look at him! If you could\nharness that inner rage to the national grid, you could power a whole fucking village.\nThat’s an idea we have in mind for him at some point in the future. Some sort of, I don’t know, those things you\nsee in rodent cages?”

“Treadmill!”

“That the chappie”, he exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “One\nof those on a larger scale and maybe use it to generate electricity. Two birds\nwith one stone reduce the power bill and provide plenty of healthy exercise.\nPerhaps have some sort of meter on it,” he pondered.

I laughed. “To record how much he can generate!”

Jeremy glanced at his ponyboy again and shook his head. “No,\nnot that. Wrong term. I meant some type of recording device that he could see\nfor every turn. It shouldn’t be too difficult to set something like that up and\nthen set targets, and if he fails to meet them, well…” he finished with an\nominous chuckle and then suddenly stared at me as though seeing me for the\nfirst time.

“You were a nurse or training to be one!”

I nodded. “That’s how I earn my daily crust, why?”

“Teeth”, he beamed at me. “Samson’s toothypegs. Otty and I\nhave been discussing what to do about them and reading up online. I mean, it's\nnot as if he needs them for the diet we feed him, and if he can’t bite, well\nthen? We’re going to buy some special dental extraction pliers and…”

Anything else he might have been about to say was lost as\nSamson, who’d presumably heard every word, started kicking up a frantic fuss, even\nmanaging to swing a hoof at Chrissie and knock her backwards as he suddenly jerked\nabout in a decidedly animated manner.

“No!” Jeremy shouted as Chrissie sprang to her feet with an\nangry expression on her beautiful face. “No, leave him, not yet. Come here,\nplease.”

Chrissie stopped and scowled first at Samson and then at\nJeremy but reluctantly did as he’d asked, although I noted her eyes fixed on\nthat whip Jeremy was still holding. I suddenly felt that if act one had ended,\nact two was about to start.

“Bad boy, very bad boy!” Jeremy shouted quickly, striding up\nto Samson, grabbing his bridle and shouting upwards into his ear. I thought he\nmight use his whip, but it remained coiled in his hand, which was a tad\ndisappointing. There had been something\nrather satisfying in how it had cracked so crisply and yet so cruelly upon\nSamson's helpless body. Jeremy merely shook his bridle hard once more before re-joining\nme and the seething Chrissie.

“Hurt?”

Chrissie glared at him and then at Samson before taking a\ndeep breath and shaking her head. “Nope, I sensed he was going to do something,\nso I moved almost as soon as he did”.

Jeremy nodded. “Good, but that sort of foolish behaviour is\nnot allowed, and the damn animal knows that. He might not have been here all\nthat long, but he’s learned all about consequences when he misbehaves. He\nchuckled at my lover's hopeful, eager look and then looked at his watch. “A\nlittle earlier than I’d intended, but” he smiled and reached for his cell\nphone. “Now, this is what I would call a but situation!” He murmured as he\ntapped on the screen. “Oh, Otty, love. A shade sooner, but I think we’re ready\nfor a little refreshment break to accompany the entertainment. Yes, that’s\nright. Okies, see you in a minute or two”.

“Not her field of expertise”, Chrissie said, looking at\nSamson but jerking her head towards me. “She’s not a dental nurse, but if\nyou’ve got a pair of dental pliers readily to hand?”

“Ah, no”, he cut in quickly. “We haven’t, and perhaps not\nthe right moment. Besides, we will need all the right equipment, like those\nthings they use to keep the jaw open to stop kids and those with mental\ndifficulties from biting their fingers. A matter for cool heads and calm hands,\nI feel or maybe visa versa.” He held up a hand. “Not that I intend depriving\nyou of suitable, er, payback, shall we call it, my dear. But let us wait a\nmoment or two until Otty gets us all nicely set up.”

Chrissie gave a sort of grunt that might have meant\nanything. I shrugged my shoulders in response to her questioning look. I had no idea either, but looking at my lover's\nface and reading her body language, I knew that if I was still missing that final\nquarter, she was making up for that and far more! She repeated that snort and\nthen, without so much as a glance at Jeremy, spun around and stalked back to\nSamson, promptly grabbing hold of his captive manhood in a manner that made him\njump and writhe. Neither of us heard what she whispered up at him, but some of\nthat belligerence seemed to melt away.

“Isn’t it nice that things like Faceache exist?” Jeremy\nchuckled, observing her. “I suppose I could have tracked you down eventually\nvia other means, but circumstance did lean towards the necessity of finding you\nand then getting you up here fairly quickly. That’s why I was so insistent,\nwhich no doubt you found a touch annoying. He apologised with a nod, adding,\n“No need to be so careful, Chrissie. Pinch and nip to your heart's content if\nyou want. His balls exist only to add to his frustration when my fingers tease\nhis splendid pork pole and not to empty their contents. That exquisite pleasure\nis not for the like of him, and I’m never going to put him to stud, so speaking\npersonally, I have no use for them!”

Chrissie flashed him a quick, surprised look before giggling\ndelightedly and winking at me. I was relieved to hear that giggle and see that\nrapt, gleeful expression on her beautiful face. It wasn’t just Samson's\nmomentary foolish act that had upset her; the past month or so had been a bit\ndifficult on the home front if that’s the right way to put it. A senior\nposition had unexpectedly arisen in her department at the hospital, and the\nchoice to fill that vacancy had been between Chrissie and, well, the term hated\nrival would be over-egging the pudding.

Sandy, Sandra had come from a different mould, plump,\nplain-faced, not the least interested in fashion or cosmetics and invariably\ndressed as a likely winning candidate for a ‘Mrs frumpy of the Year’ award! She\nalso happened to be a top-class Cordon Bleu quality cook, mother to three cute\nkids via marriage to the best-looking doctor in the hospital—a consultant\npaediatrician who could send the most hardened nurse crazy with a simple smile\nof acknowledgement. I’d once danced with the handsome hunk at the annual\nChristmas bash and returned to my table almost shaking and not with fear or\nrage!

Chrissie hadn’t taken to coming second very well, not\ninwardly anyway. It had been a tough choice, two outstanding candidates, or so\nthey said when breaking the bad news, but that didn’t make up for coming\nsecond. My lover, I’d discovered early on in our relationship, was not a good\nloser! Consequently, she’d succumbed to a sort of mild depression, talked about\nchanging jobs, maybe taking a break, a year’s sabbatical somewhere like Africa\nwith a medical charity and so on.

It was all nonsense, of course, not to mention frustrating!\nChrissie liked her job, colleagues, where we lived, and even me! It was an\nextensive department and training centre in addition to its normal function\nwith patients, and another senior position would come up soon enough. Hell, she\nalso liked Sandy, plus we were conscientious joint God Mothers to the middle\nkid, five-year-old Sally. Perhaps contentious is the wrong term, for we were\nundoubtedly lax in the traditional sense of the role, but we never forgot\nbirthday or Christmas presents, and we’d babysat on numerous occasions.

Still, she’d had her heart set on that promotion, hence my\nrelief at hearing that giggle and the happy expression on her face. Finally,\nafter several dark weeks, the sun was coming out, and I wasn’t going to be the\none to pull the blinds on it. I felt a slight twinge of guilt for poor Samson,\nbut only briefly. My lovely Chrissie\nplus whatever it took to return her to her old self formed one side of the\nequation. As to the other, it would be worth whatever it took to maintain\nequilibrium regardless of what it equalled in terms of discomfort or whatever\nelse for the big guy! My conscience was retreating rapidly, wasn’t it, and I\nrealised that I didn’t particularly care.

“I don’t know what effect she’s having on my big stallion”,\nJeremy laughed, looking at me with a blatantly suggestive grin “, but it’s\ncertainly stimulating me. It’s almost time for lunch, so why not have a little\nCabaret to accompany the food? I can\nguarantee you two ladies the best table in the house, very near the band, so to\nspeak,” he leered at me. “Maybe after what just happened, our lovely Chrissie\nmight like to take up the conductor's baton prior to the main event and\norchestrate a little entertaining sound for our ears while we dine. What say\nyou ladies?”

“Yes!” It was Chrissie, done and dusted before I’d even opened\nmy mouth, so all I could do was smile and nod in agreement as Jeremy laughed\nand pulled out his cell phone again.

Chrissie beamed a huge, excited smile at me, prompting a\nlittle shiver of delight and a deep inner tingle. As Jeremy had said, Samson\nwas just an animal now, wasn’t he? A male animal and not a particularly cute\nand cuddly one, either!

*****

“You\nenjoyed that, didn’t you?” I challenged a little huffily as she resumed her\nseat and promptly helped herself to a giant chocolate éclair almost too big to\nget in her mouth. It oozed cream as her small, even white teeth bit into it, and\nthen she chewed, swallowed and licked the creamy residue off her lips with a\nvery suggestive slow movement from her pink tongue. Her action wasn’t the least\nbit subconscious, for she looked me straight in the eye with every lick!

“You’ll\nget your turn; don’t fret.” she shrugged and took another bite. I gave her a\nhard stare, which she ignored deliberately or involuntarily, putting her free\nhand upon the wooden paddle she’d casually dropped on the table rather than\nreturning it to the rack when she sat down. “I wonder if Jeremy has a decent\nstrap-on harness?” she mused just before her mouth closed around the end of\nthat monster-sized éclair again.

“Probably\nnot”, I muttered with perhaps a slight touch of envy. “It’s not as if he needs\none”, I grunted. “ I was thinking along those very same lines a moment ago. Pity\nwe weren’t forewarned; otherwise, we could have come suitably equipped”.

Chrissie\nchuckled and then ran her tongue up the side of the eclair again in a very\nsuggestive way, lapping up all the cream that was oozing out. “I think I’ll\nhave to renew my gym membership. I was feeling a tad blown out by the time I’d\nfinished.” she ran a hand across her face and looked at it. “Is my face all\nsweaty?”

I\nnodded. “Just a shade on the damp side. You were getting a little carried away,\nyou know, honey! Poor Jeremy was starting to twitch a bit, looking rather\nconcerned, so I didn’t think it would be much longer before he intervened and,\nno!” I pulled the plate of eclairs away from her grasping fingers. “One of\nthose monsters is quite enough; I don’t want to end up sharing my bed with a\nbloated whale or a successful Miss Porky pig wannabe! Have a mini celery stick\nand some of that cheese and whatever it is dip, instead.”

“Spoilsport!”\nshe pulled a face, thought about the celery, and decided against it. “No, I think I’ve had enough to last me\nwithout the rabbit food. That gym is bloody expensive anyway.” she grinned and\nheld her champagne flute out.

“Say\npretty please”.

“Fuck\noff, now top me up or I’ll use this thing on you and see how much noise you can\nmake!” she gave me a look that hovered somewhere between a grin and a scowl picking\nup the paddle she’d discarded a few minutes ago and waving it at me. “Was he\nreally that noisy?”

I\ngave the bottle of champagne a swirl in its ice bucket, which probably did\nnothing chill-wise, then I filled her proffered glass about half full and added\na little more in response to that silent, reproachful look she gave me.

“Very,”\nI told her. “He took that first dozen or so quite stoically and then began to\nwrithe about a bit and moan, and once you got going, the howling started”.

Chrissie\ngiggled, which is not a good idea when you’ve just taken a generous sip of\nchampagne or any liquid. She finished\nspluttering and wiped her mouth, looking ruefully down at her pink sleeveless\ntop. “Whoops, sorry. Oh well, I felt sweaty, so I was going to change anyway! Besides,\nI only did as I was told, so if Jeremy was worried, it was his own silly fault.\nHe was the one who said I needn’t hold back.” she shrugged and smirked, “so I\ndidn’t! Just obeying orders, sweetie!”

“Hmmm,\nthat excuse has been used before, as I recall and didn’t cut much ice at the\ntime nor since, for that matter!”.

“Entirely\ndifferent situation; those people were evil monsters, whereas I’m just a sweet,\nsexy girl having a bit of harmless fun.” she smiled a sickly smile at me.

“Harmless!”\nI exclaimed, looking towards the floor show, which had continued since Chrissie\nsat down to resume her interrupted luncheon. The noise level had decreased\nconsiderably since Chrissie had enthusiastically complied with Jeremy’s\nsuggestion. Those first couple or so strokes of the paddle she’d chosen upon\nhis butt had been kind of tentative and hesitant. The next few a little less so,\nand then once he’d suggested she take the brake off, she’d sort of hesitated\nfor a second and then double, double declutched, going from first to top in one\nmeaty slap.

Chrissie\nhad paused after that one to question the need for the bit in Samson's mouth,\nwhich hadn’t surprised me. Back in the good old days, she adored making poor\nJazzy squeal and shout for her, which had resulted in numerous angry responses\nfrom our respective housemates. Even the shrillest of Jeremys ‘big boys’ had\nbeen quieter than our Jazzy when she got going, and Chrissie had been very good\nat ‘getting her going!’

Chrissie\nchuckled. “Well, it didn’t harm me! Besides, a little spanking on the botty\nnever hurt anyone. He’s got some stamina, though, hasn’t he?” she picked up her\nglass, changing the subject and nodding towards the other two figures. One of\nthem was very vigorously engaged.

Otty\nhad brought over the food and ice bucket while Jeremy dragged out the folding\naluminium table and three matching chairs, explaining, “Found these in the old\ngreenhouse. I don’t think my parents ever used them, but since I acquired big\nboy there, Otty and I sometimes take our lunch or supper over here. There are\ncameras, naturally, but that’s not quite the same. Besides, I like him to know\nI’m here watching him! I can’t keep my eyes off the big brute. Nor my hands and something else,” he’d added\nwith a coarse laugh.

The\ntable and chairs hadn’t been the only things he produced once we seated\nourselves. We’d watched, fascinated, as the pair dragged out and set up another\npiece of apparatus, all padded leather and steel, sporting many leather straps.\n“Bought this bit of kit a few years ago,” Jeremy told us. “Cost a bloody fortune!\nSheer, irrational, wanton self-indulgence\nand a total impulse buy. Otty almost\nleft me after the second time I had him strapped down for a little fun,” he\nwinked at us. “Nearly a parting of the ways, eh, loverboy. A tad overenthusiastic\non my part”.

“Ja”\nwas the response to that, at least the bit we understood. The rest of what he\nsaid was grunted in guttural German and barely audible, not that we’d have\nunderstood anyway!

Ottey\ncertainly had no qualms about his lover's new illegal acquisition and, indeed,\nseemed almost indifferent to Samson's struggles as the two of them dragged him\nto that piece of equipment and strapped him to it. He might as well have been\nhandling the tables and chairs again from the unconcerned expression on his\nface. He’d smiled such a lovely smile at us the few times, especially when he\nsaid something in his shy, halting, heavily accented, but perfectly\nunderstandable English. However, it seemed Samson wasn’t a resident of that\nsame universe so far as he was concerned!

Samson\nno doubt also wished he was light years away in a distant galaxy! Unfortunately,\nhe wasn’t, and his universe had shrunk down to the building he was confined\nwithin, and all that went on in there. Indeed, he had become the central sun,\nthe focus of the private little solar system. By the time Chrissie sat down, he\nwas burning, if not brighter, then a whole lot hotter than when she’d first\naccepted that invitation to ‘warm him up a little’ prior to a little loving attention\nfrom his Master and owner!

Judging\nby the struggle Samson put up as they freed him from his neck tether and then\ndragged him towards that sinister-looking piece of bondage furniture, he was no\nstranger to its purpose nor to what Jeremy had in mind. Indeed, when the final\nstrap was threaded through its roller buckle and safely fastened, our host was\nred-faced from the effort and manifestly angry. As they say, Samson had no\nintention of going quietly and had duly proved his reluctance to participate to\nthe visible embarrassment of his captors!

Ottey\nhad insisted we sit at the luncheon table and accept a glass apiece after he’d\ncracked open the ice-cold champers before Joining Jeremy in freeing their big\nstallion. Glasses that had remained virtually untouched as we watched the\nfascinating scene playing out before us. Awestruck might be the appropriate\nword, for neither of us said anything as we watched them wrestle the unwieldy,\nstruggling, glossy black form to where they wanted him. It was by no means an\neasy task for Samson fought them all the way, even though he was restrained and\nvirtually helpless.

Then\nOtty had clapped his sizeable hands loudly together, nodded to his lover and\nleft the old building without so much as a backward glance. At the same time,\nJeremy had stalked towards that rack of punishment tools with a look of fury on\nhis face, not to mention a visible limp courtesy of a hoot boot descending upon\nhis right foot. Halfway there, he abruptly halted and turned to look at us, a\nslow grin replacing that wrathful countenance as though a sudden and amusing\nthought had suddenly occurred to him.

He'd looked speculatively at Chrissie, then me,\nand finally back to Chrissie before speaking. “Perhaps a touch of restraint is\nrequired in my immediate frame of mind. Besides, I wasn’t the first to be\ncaught by that flailing hoof, was I?” He glanced down and shook his bruised\nfoot before continuing with a silly grin. “This is the audience participation part where\nusually a glamorous lady assistant clad in fishnet tights and not much else\ninvites a reluctant male audience member onto the stage.”

Jeremy\npaused and looked towards the door and gave a mock sigh. “However, my assistant\nseems to have departed stage right, the one who’s neither glamorous nor wears\nblack fishnet tights, at least I hope not! Therefore, maybe some beautiful lady\nin the audience would like to participate in the preliminary warm-up?” he\nbeamed at both of us before adding, “Besides, we already seem to have a\nreluctant male to hand on stage, so it’s just that touch of glamour that's\nlacking!”

Being\na tad on the shy side, I’d never been one to put myself forward for anything,\nwhereas Chrissie was very much the opposite and her hand shot up\nimmediately. “Me sir, me!” she shouted\nand was out of her chair instantly, one finger pointing back towards me. “She’s\nonly wearing socks under her jeans, whereas I’ve got my showgirl fishnet tights\non ready to go”, she lied brazenly, given that she was flashing about an inch\nof bare skin between trainers and trouser leg.

Anyway,\nChrissie was the one he’d addressed his remarks to, not me and Jeremy being Jeremy,\nof course, bowed low, kissing her hand in an ostentatious gesture before\nstanding upright and ushering her over to that long rack of torture implements.\n“Don’t fret; he’s a big boy and not going anywhere. Plenty of time for\neverybody to have a turn, or turns,” he chuckled over his shoulder to me.

Unlike\nSamson, I wasn’t privy to the whispered conversation that followed, sitting too\nfar away. It produced numerous giggles from my lover, whose eagerness to do\nevil upon the poor wretch watching them was readily apparent without the\nbackward glances towards him accompanying each batch of giggles as she examined\nthe wicked tools on offer.

That\ntouch of guilt tweaked my conscience again as I looked at Samson and felt a little\nsorry for the poor man, pony, stallion, whatever. I knew what was coming, but\nthen again, I expected he did too, and certainly far better than I did, for those\nmarks on his body proved that. The word limitless popped into my mind as I looked\nat those angry, bulging brown eyes fixed upon my companions. I felt my body shiver\non his behalf as the full implications of his predicament struck home. I can’t\ntell a lie, though, for that shiver was a double-edged one, and there was a\ndelicious touch of anticipation and pleasure on my side.

I\ndid, however, glance towards the external door, recalling what Jeremy had said.\nTrust him, no one knew about Samson, and no one would come and all the rest. How\ntrue was that and, and….my body shook. Was this real, and why was I not\nthoroughly horrified at what would happen when Chrissie stopped teasing her\nhelpless victim? Why did I find the prospect so clit tingling exciting!

Anyway,\neven if I hadn’t been a mite on the shy side, Chrissie would have beaten me to\nthe start line, beat, I suppose being the appropriate word. Our plain-faced\noverweight Jazzy had found that out during her very first session and natural\nsubmissive pain pig that she was, she soon feared Chrissie a lot more than me\nwhen it came to the application of pain! I enjoyed the whole Master/slave scene,\nas did Chrissie, and yes, we were both sadists; how could I pretend otherwise?\nCertainly not sitting there watching poor Samson with a growing sense of\nsensual anticipation, but Chrissie had the capital S when it came to Sadism. My\nbody gave another slight involuntary shiver, and I felt guilt-free this time.

“He’s\ngot some stamina, I’ll say that for him”, Chrissie mused again, breaking into\nmy thoughts and returning them to the present.

I\nnodded; I knew she wasn’t referring to Samson, as the big guy's body seemed to\nspasm with each of Jeremy’s aggressive pelvic thrusts. “Nothing new”, I replied,\nequally fascinated by the entertaining spectacle of that big helpless stallion\nbeing vigorously raped by his Master. “Remember how his bed headboard used to\nmake that partition wall shake back in the flat? No matter how many times he\nmoved his bed, it always walked back to the wall once he got started fucking\nsomeone!”

“I\ncan see why now!” Chrissie giggled and took another sip of champagne. “Big,\nbulbous and bludgeoning, that’s one hell of a combination. I’d hate that thing\nthrough the front door, never mind the back! I wonder if he takes Viagra, or is\nit still all his own work, so to speak?”

“Hmmm,”\nI nodded and followed suit with a sip from my glass. Now, maybe if that useless\nwimp who deflowered me had even half of what Samson’s receiving, perhaps I’d be\nsomewhat different,” I mused and then, looking at the expression on Samson's\nface, or what I could see of it, added, “ Then again, maybe not. There’s\nsomething very primitive about that male coupling, isn’t there that I don’t\nfind so appealing?”

“Definitely\nprimitive. It's fun to watch, though! Chrissie giggled. “I wonder which he\nfinds worse, this or my warming up his bottom first? Remember how we pounded Jenny\nafter warming her up?” she sighed and added. “I do hope Jeremy has something\nsuitable I can use on him. He did invite us for the entire weekend, remember?”

“Primitive\nyourself!” I laughed, recalling how she’d made the first assault on poor Ugly\nJenny’s virgin rear door.

*****

“You\nmight at least put them back on,” I told him. It wasn’t that I was being\nfastidious. Chrissie was usually the fussy one regarding things like household\ncleanliness and the proprieties of life, but I thought him dumping his\ncrumpled-up trousers on our lunch table a tad out of order.

“Clean\non this morning.” he shrugged but obligingly moved them onto Chrissie's vacant\nchair. I’d been relieved to see he’d put his boxer shorts back on once he’d\nfinally emptied his balls into Samson's squirming rectum. Adding the trousers he’d\ndecided might be superfluous while he was still ‘very much in the mood’ as he\nput it.

“A\ngarment too far!” Chrissie had giggled, offering me her paddle as Jeremy joined\nus at the table to resume his interrupted lunch. The one he’d abandoned once\nChrissie had finished her little ‘warm up’ act.

I’d declined\nthe offer because I wasn’t sure about the etiquette of such situations, which\nseemed very silly, and partly because I still felt somewhat tentative about\neverything, not least that desperate, humiliated figure strapped upon that big\nbench thing. On the other hand, Chrissie had no such inhibitions; she merely\nshrugged and promptly returned to that long row of punishment implements, hung\nthe paddle on the appropriate hook and resumed her perusal of the other items.

“Kid\nin a candy shop”, Jeremy spluttered through a mouthful of sausage roll. He\nswallowed and called, “Stick to slappy slappy items if you would please,\nnothing that will cut him up. I’m not in the mood to have blood all over my\nlower parts when I take it again, and I can imagine what carnage you’ll do with\na cane. I know you, Miss Nasty Pants!\nGive that rubber slapper on the end an outing. It hurts like hell but does\nminimal damage, at least on the beast's external hide!”

Samson\nwas watching my lover with those bulging eyes again. I suspected Jeremy was not\nthe only one who could imagine what she’d do with a cane in her hand, having\nalready experienced what she could do with a wooden paddle. She’d used that implement effectively enough,\nas evident after the first half dozen blows as doubtlessly he was now\nrecalling.

Chrissie,\nafter some serious deliberation of the impressive collection, had chosen a\nrectangular wooden paddle about eighteen inches long, one of those full of\nholes like a Swiss cheese but in this case for better aerodynamics on the\ndownward stroke resulting in more collateral damage as the military might say.\nI could vouch for that, as could she, for we had a similar, smaller, heart-shaped\none in our collection back home. Neither of us had ever experienced its full\npotential, though, nor had we ever been so restrained as Samson.

Our\nreluctance to embrace any form of bondage personally during our pre-sex bdsm\ngames stemmed less from an interest in bondage and more from a certain lack of\ntrust in each other. When aroused, we were both decidedly passionate, and\nneither knew how far the other would go when undergoing an intense bout of sadomasochistic\npassion. Perhaps more me than Chrissie,\nfor I’d once allowed her to tie me up early in our relationship and carried the\nmarks for weeks. Hell, I’d had to sit an important exam the next day, and sitting\nwas definitely something I hadn’t wanted to do!

Talking\nof not wanting to do things had been Jeremy’s attitude when she asked him to\nremove Samson's gag bit. I knew why, of course. The girl had never been\nsatisfied until she’d got Jazzy, ‘singing for her supper’ as she called it. Depending\non how late it was and who happened to be in the flat, those occasions usually\nproduced those protesting bangs on the bedroom wall from those attempting to\nsleep! We were usually a pretty tolerant bunch regarding our housemate's little\nquirks, but Jazzy could be very noisy at times if ungagged. The gag being\nremoved, of course, when it was time for her delicious and talented tongue to\ntaste those moist fleshy suppers we provided!

The\nreason for Jeremy’s reluctance was immediately apparent the moment its mouth bit\nand tongue pad was removed. Jeremy shrugged, putting his hands to his ear as he\nbacked away, saying, “Well, you did ask! Come back in five months or maybe five\nyears if you want, maybe by then, he’ll not be so ...”

“Naughty”,\nI’d offered without thinking, which promptly creased him up as he looked at the\nhuge struggling form spitting out its enraged vitriolic hatred.

“Naughty?”\nhe repeated questioningly. “Oh yes, he’s a very, er, naughty boy”, he chuckled,\nputting a finger in each ear and winking at me. “Not exactly the brightest\npupil, my little lectures on the inadvisability of human speech seem ignored. Still,\nI don’t mind if he has to learn the hard way. Time is on my side, after all;\nlikewise, all those painful teaching implements!”

I\nwas tempted to follow suit finger and earwise, for the one thing Samson\nappeared not to have learned in the what was it, five weeks he’s been ponyboy\nin residence was that silence is golden. Did he honestly think that making all\nthat noise, expressing his pent-up frustration and anger in such a way and with\nsuch obscene language, would make one iota of difference to his predicament?\nPerhaps it made him feel better, but it seemed ridiculous from where I sat\nlistening with fascination to the ongoing endless outburst. Perfectly\nunderstandable, of course, but at the same time somewhat foolish and a complete\nwaste of energy.

Jeremy\nhad already announced that he was going to fuck his big beast yet again, for\ndoing so in front of an audience, a female one, made him feel extra randy. ‘Just talking to you two and showing him off,\nplus watching Chrissie at work, has given me a monster hard-on!’ he’d laughed.

That\nshould have been a bit of a giveaway, I’d have thought, considering there was\nnothing the ‘big beast’ could do to prevent him from doing it. I wondered how\nmany times Samson had already suffered that penetrating humiliation. Jeremy\nhadn’t mentioned anything as to his captive’s sexuality, but I very much\ndoubted that Samson was of the same sexual persuasion as his owner. Somehow, I knew that if our old flatmate were\ngoing to acquire such a beast, then a gay one would not have been at the top of\nhis shopping list!

That\nhad always been ‘fat, ugly and sad’ Jazzy’s main selling point for us. The\nbitch was highly submissive and something of a pain pig but not a lesbian, not\neven a natural bi, so forcing her to satisfy the pair of us had always been\nthat bit more entertaining. Watching the big guy writhing around was a real turn-on,\nand any reservations about the situation I might have had were rapidly\ndisappearing. Gee, but he was being noisy and making his feelings known, and if\nhe thought that directing some of that tirade at my sexy lover would in someway\nhelp, then he was sadly mistaken!

On a\nzero to ten scale of sadistic conscience, I was probably about seven point five\non average, maybe an eight point five or even higher amid an orgasmic high.\nThere had been times when I felt rather sorry for Jazzy, and I’d had to\nrestrain my other half when she became too enthusiastic. A part of that was\nsheer self-preservation, of course, for more than one zealous practitioner of\nthe sadomasochistic arts has found themselves in the dock facing charges for\nassault or worse!

That\ndid not seem to apply to this situation, though. If Jeremy was correct, and I\nwas beginning to believe he was, then he’d been torturing and fucking his\ncaptive ponyboy for over a month without consequences. He’d seemed very\nconfident, even amused at the idea of anyone finding out about his illegal and\nawful activities, so was there anything to worry about?

Chrissie\nwas the one who’d wanted that bit gag removed, and she seemed to relish that\nendless tirade of expletive-backed protestations that only served to pump her\nup that bit more. Her body visibly bobbed with suppressed excitement as she slowly\ncircled the helpless man like a hungry tigress eyeing up the tethered sacrificial\ngoat. She was even showing her fangs with that anticipatory smile as she repeatedly\ntapped the paddle she’d chosen on the palm of her free hand.

Unlike\nthose olden days, this goat wasn’t terrified, not yet. It was angry, very angry\nindeed, but that wouldn’t save it from what was about to happen. Back in the\ndays of the empire, there had always been the ‘Great White’ hunter or hunters\nlurking nearby to dispatch the unwary predator. Ruthlessly gunned down before\nit got teeth and claws into its prey, but that wasn’t going to happen for this\npoor creature. He’d have been better off keeping quiet and saving his energy,\nnot that Chrissie would have allowed him to suffer in silence for long.

I\nwas the one nearby, and I certainly wasn’t lurking, nor for once was I troubled\nby conscience, and in terms of that scale I’d mentioned, was now running at ten.\nHowever, I suspected from that look on her face Chrissie was already way beyond\nthat point, off the scale and about to prove it. Samson must have realised that\nat about the same time, his anger abruptly changed gear to a more restrained\nand plaintive pleading as he attempted to reason with what or who was now the\nmain threat to his continued well-being.

More\nbreath wasted on his part if that big black juicy fly thought it would have the\nslightest effect on the smaller but infinitely more dangerous lurking spider queen,\nand a sudden thought produced an impromptu giggle. I quickly but unsuccessfully\nsuppressed it with a sort of hiccupping burp that caused Jeremy to give me an\nodd look, so I grinned and shook my head to reassure him. He gave me another\ndubious look, then returned to the floor show.

Chrissie\nand I had accepted his surprising weekend invitation with no great enthusiasm.\nSure, it would be nice to see Jeremy again and chat over old times, but we’d\nmoved on since then, at least we thought we had, but perhaps not! Whatever,\nneither of us had remotely anticipated this situation, and I’d recalled the\nchat we’d had on the way up only a couple of hours ago. Did we need to stay, and if we did, why both\nnights? Would we stay even one night, let alone two? What would be the point?\nChrissie, in particular, hadn’t been overkeen on the trip in the first place.

Looking\nat her slowly circling Samson with that slapper in her hand for round two, an\nearly departure was a bridge now burnt and rapidly turning to cinders, smoke and\nash. We were both due back to work Monday morning at nine sharp, and far from\ncutting short our weekend visit, I suspected it would be a case of making an\nearly start and speeding down the motorway back to the capital that morning.\nFortunately, we kept our working uniforms in our respective staff changing\nrooms so that would save a bit of time.

Well,\nit wasn’t a bad trip and reasonably short if you put your foot down; plus, we were\nboth free the following weekend, which was just as well. I sensed that this\npart of rural Cambridgeshire had just gained a couple of admirers, well, maybe\nnot so much the countryside but rather a secret concealed within it. Indeed,\nwatching Chrissie, I suspected I’d be dragging her out of the door early Monday\nmorning.

“Of\ncourse, I wasn’t speaking from personal experience, at least not from the\nreceiving end, I mean,” Jeremy said quietly, resuming his thread. “About that\nslapper, I mean. Lord knows what sort of carnage it does underneath that\nhandsome hide, but judging from his reaction, my big beastie boy finds it very\npainful.”

“Such\nlanguage, naughty boy!” Chrissie bent forward and tapped Samson gently on his\ncheek with the slapper. “You should know by now that ponyboys don’t talk, and\neven if they were allowed, such foul language in front of a lady! Time, I think\nyou sang to a different tune!” Given the verbal she was getting from her victim,\nI was sure she’d heard nothing Jeremy and I had been saying, nor would it have\nmattered if she had. I don’t think we even existed for her then; her entire\nuniverse had become that rubber slapper and its intended helpless target.

“I\ndo believe my splendid animal has irritated her somewhat. Very foolish of it under\nthe circumstance,” Jeremy observed as Chrissie strategically placed herself at\nthe end opposite the one making all the protestations and raising the slapper….

I\nnodded in silent agreement as the slapper descended, and he did indeed start\nsinging to a different tune right from the moment that thick but flexible\nrubber surface wrapped itself around his left rump cheek with a very satisfying\nthwacking sound!

*****

“Now\nthat was what I call fun!” Chrissie announced, rubbing her hands together as\nshe re-joined us at the table. She helped herself to a handful of cheesy potato\npuff snacks from a bowl and sipped champagne. “Very satisfying. I could get\nused to doing that!”

“I’m\nnot sure someone else would call it fun!” I commented, looking over to where\nSamson lay limp in his bonds, having fainted, much to my lover's disappointment,\njust as she was getting into the swing of things—literally, the swing of things\nor one particular thing, watching how her arm moved.

Jeremy\nhadn’t said a word but made a loud throat-clearing noise when she’d paused,\nslapper raised, glanced from the\ncomatose Samson to her and shook his head slowly. Enough was enough, for now at\nleast. We both got the message, and Chrissie reluctantly replaced the slapper\non its hook.

“Florence\nNightingale not dashing to see to that poor unfortunate then?” he asked,\neyebrows raised questioningly. “No professional twitch or anything kicking in?”

“Florence\nNightingale is off duty; besides, I left my lamp at home!” I retorted, “Nor did\nshe get the hots watching her girlfriend thrashing male buttocks”.

“Rump,\nmy dear, rump. He’s an animal, remember? He’ll be alright,” Jeremy reassured us,\nseemingly almost indifferent to his unconscious ponyboy. “He does that quite\nfrequently. I’m learning to recognise the signs so I can back off and let him\nhave a breather before I start again. Otherwise, the old stop-start and\nsmelling salts routine is a bit of a bore!” He smiled at us and reached for his\ncell phone. “One moment”, he said, tapping on the screen and speaking to his\nGerman lover.

Otty\nappeared a moment later with a fresh bottle of Champagne and some more ice, the\nlatter in an old plastic ice cream carton. He grinned somewhat ruthfully as he\ntipped the cubes into the ice bucket and swapped the bottles over after first\nopening the replacement with the customary cork pop.

“Vee\njust haf the von. I should put him in the refrigerator, but I forget,” he\ngrunted apologetically, gesturing towards the bucket with one finger and then\ntapping the bottle. He looked towards Samson's silent, still figure, chuckled\nsoftly and then quietly departed with hardly a sound.

“Very\nlight on his feet”, Jeremy observed, reading our minds. “I think he likes you,\n“He rarely says a word around strangers, and you just got at least a dozen out\nof him, plus a little bonus laugh. That’s a first,” he exclaimed, then he sat\nupright in his chair and clapped his hands together excitedly. “Now to business\nladies. A new bottle of bubbly for a new beginning, eh?” he smiled at us and\nthen laughed. “Come now, you didn’t think I looked you up after all these years\nand invited you up just to show you that creature, splendid as he is, did you?\nFill your glasses; well, maybe not fill them. Let us not get too mad; the day\nis still young, but perhaps a little\ntop-up, that’s right.”

My\nglass was almost empty, so I’d reached for the fresh bottle and did the\nhonours, and as I scrunched it back into the bucket, Jeremy raised his glass\nand saluted us both. “A toast, ladies, to a long and fruitful renewed\nrelationship!”

Chrissie and I shared that questioning look once more as we\ntook a sip of the sparkling bubbly and then back to our amused host, who\nchuckled again, rising from his chair, gesturing upwards with both hands. “Nor\nto reminisce about the ‘good old days’. I believe ‘chew over the fat’ is the\nappropriate expression, but as I recall, we had some lean times when there was\nmore gristle than fat or meat. Ah, good old student days, eh! Now, shall we\ntake our glasses with us? No, perhaps not. The bottle will be nicely chilled if\nwe leave it a while. This way, if you please, ladies.”

Chrissie and I shared another meaningful look as we followed\nhim through a stout wooden door into the other half of the stable. Yes, there\nhad been some very lean days, weeks even, back in our flat sharing student\ndays, at least for us. However, I couldn’t recall Jeremy ever suffering unduly\nfrom poverty or existing on a lean meat and gristle diet. While Chrissie and I\nhad frequently pooled resources and shared the cheapest McDonald's meal, Jeremy\nhad been out generously winning and dining his next prospective submissive at\nsome of London’s finest restaurants. All thanks to his parents' exceedingly\ngenerous monthly allowance, plus his considerable inheritance from a wealthy\nand deceased spinster great aunt.

Back then, in those ‘good old student days, ’ Chrissie and I\nhad been on polite terms with the little Indian guy who ran the local corner\nshop and was good for a certain amount of credit near the end of term or even\nearlier if needed. On the other hand, Jeremy knew head waiters by their first\nnames at hotels like the Ritz, Savoy, Claridges, etc. The sort of places\nwhere we’d have had to take out a bank loan merely to give the hall porter a\ntip he wouldn’t sneer at!

That glance we’d shared briefly brought back a certain\nresentment, not that it was merited. Jeremy had never quibbled when he\ndiscovered minor or occasionally major discrepancies in his personal food\ninventory in the communal fridge and larder. He’d been the one who’d collected\nand paid our annual members' fee at Scarlett’s club, and we only found out\nlater that he’d been heavily subsidising our contributions. There were many\nmore instances when we’d benefited from his generosity and doubtlessly others\nwe didn’t know about. Still, that casual affluence he’d had back then had been\na minor annoyance and irritation for two impoverished working-class Northern\nlasses.

There was also…my thoughts came to an abrupt halt at that\npoint, as did my feet. Chrissie beside me likewise as she emitted a little gasp\nand then whispered. “No way!”

Jeremy, who’d carried on a pace, further halted and looked\nback at the pair of us with a huge muppet-like grin splitting his face. “As I\nsaid, ladies. I didn’t invite you up to see Samson, splendid animal that he is,\nbut knowing you two and your tastes, I suspect, well…..” he trailed off, chortling\ngleefully, making an exaggerated gesture towards one of the stalls.

Otty, whose broad, good, humoured face mirrored that of his\nlover, was leading a tall, magnificently proportioned, dusky-skinned ponygirl\nout of the stall, holding the skittish creature tightly by a short leash to her\nleather collar as he led her out.

“Steady girl”, Jeremy cautioned, reaching out and lightly\ntapping Chrissie on the shoulder. He was addressing her, not the pony,\nknowing instinctively that she’d been about to rush forward. “Hold one moment\nand get a good eyeful of the beast. Not bad, is she? Not bad at all. Get an\neyeful of that gorgeous hide on her, almost golden when it catches the light.\nWalk her up and down for us, please, Otty”.

“She’s magnificent” came out of Chrissie like a reverential\nwhisper. The expression eyes out on stalks came into my mind for a second, but\nthen I realised I was probably no different and that if I didn’t close my\nmouth, I might start drooling.

Otty’s melon-like grin grew wider as he yanked the tall\nponygirl in a new direction, making it stumble and then recover as it staggered\nin his grip. Glossy, bright pink knee-high hoof boots graced those long,\nshapely legs. I glanced at Chrissie and grinned, recognising that look on her\nface. After all our years together, I could read her like a book and knew what\nshe was thinking or at least what a part of her mental capacity was processing\neither consciously or subconsciously.

Chrissie was shorter than me by several inches, and although\nby no means a small person, I mean not pint-sized if I can put it that way\nrather than using more controversial terms. She was somewhat conscious that she\nwas lacking in the leg department. ‘All bloody head, neck, body, bum and feet\nwith not much in between bum and feet’, As she put it. She just adored seeing\nme in stockings and heels, which I hated, but she would never wear such\nherself. ‘Not on my bloody short stumps, no way’ and rarely wore a dress or\nskirt!’

I thought her legs were cute and not the least bit stumpy,\nbut I’d come along too late. Her dad had always affectionately but unwisely\ncalled her ‘his little shorty’ and still did. Probably because he topped six feet,\nas did her two brothers, so the damage was done long before we got together.\nShe only had to glance at a display of tights in the supermarket, you know, the\nones I mean. Always photoshopped to show impossibly long elegant legs that set\nher off on an angry tirade. That filly or mare, whatever she was, had\nunwittingly and unavoidably crossed that same line. How dare she have legs like\nthat!

Sexy long legs or not, the pony could barely walk and, even\nas we watched, almost fell over twice or would have done had Otty not quickly\nstretched out a massive hand to steady her till she regained her balance on her\nfeet or rather hoofs. I thought beautiful but decidedly ungainly and exchanged\nanother excited, wide-eyed glance with Chrissie.

Back in our days with Jazzy, we’d never been able to afford\nany decent pony gear, not a pair of boots like that. We’d made do with some\ncheap six-inch stilettos, but they’d never looked right on our makeshift\nponygirls' chubby legs. This one had magnificent legs, not to mention a trim\nwaist and a gorgeous pair of firm jutting udders tipped by prominent dark\nnipples and a long mane of glossy jet-black hair flowing down her slender back.

That shared glance was charged with a growing sense of\nexcitement as the implications of what we were looking at began to seep into\ntwo slightly stunned minds. Perhaps not quite as shocked as they might have\nbeen a few hours ago as an inevitable realisation started to simultaneously\ndawn in that look we shared as our eyes and heads swivelled rapidly back and\nforth between Ponygirl and each other.

“So, ladies, what do you think of Delilah then? The one\nother I mentioned earlier who knows about my illegal activities, not that she’s\nin any position to do anything about them,” Jeremy laughed, giving a half-wave\ntowards the pony. “Untrained, as you can see, and in pristine condition, not a\nmark on her, unlike?” he giggled and nodded backwards in the direction we’d\njust come from. “Well, bar a few hand slaps. My Otty has rather large hands,\nbut I doubt she’s received more than a dozen all told, so no battle scars,\nunlike my gorgeous Samson’s pretty hide.”

“Delilah? So she’s…” Chrissie also nodded backwards.

“Bingo, clever girl, got it in one”, Jeremy chuckled.\n“Delilah is, or should I say was, Mrs Samson and, although not my cup of tea, an\nexcellent specimen, as I’m sure you would both agree. Note that magnificent\nhide upon her. I’ll wager she was what they would have called a Quadroon back\nin the old plantation days, one with a grandparent of pure African origin. No\nneed for her to waste money on a fake tan, eh? We, or rather Otty, only tacked\nher up yesterday, no the day before. I ordered some suitable gear post haste\nonce I knew you were coming, so the poor thing can hardly put one foot in front\nof the other, whereas Samson’s been wearing them since the day I first stalled\nhim”.

“How long?” I asked.

“Oh, like I said, a few weeks. Let's see.” he started\ntapping on his fingers, then gave up. “Oh, call it a month, well maybe a few\ndays more, but who’s counting, and what does it matter?” he shrugged. “Not to me and certainly not to this one\nor my big boy back there, and as I told you, there is absolutely no chance of\nthe US cavalry riding to their rescue. Nor any form of cavalry or infantry,\ncome to that.” He paused and gave a decidedly mischievous grin, winking as he\ndid while raising a single finger to his lips. “Don’t let them know that,\nthough. I’ve planted a couple of\ndiscrete hints that their plight is not unknown and that an extensive search is\nbeing undertaken so that hope may as yet reside in their bosoms. A very nice\nbosom, I think, in that one’s case, if that’s what floats your boat!”.

“And is there one, an extensive search, I mean?” Chrissie\nwhispered, her eyes rapidly switching between Jeremy and Delilah.

He shook his head. “Not so far as I am aware, or any authorities\ncome to that”, he replied quietly. “Why should there be? As I told you, there\nis nothing to worry about in that respect, and no,” he said, shaking his head\nand waving a cautionary finger. “Don’t waste your breath asking. I’ve said as\nmuch as I intend to say on that subject for reasons I won’t reveal. I can do\nwhatever I want, whenever I want, and for as long as I want to my handsome big\nboy back there; likewise, you ladies with this fine filly or maybe mare would\nbe more appropriate. Thirty-two but doesn’t look a day over, what, twenty-three\nperhaps! Now, no more questions, please. Upon my word of honour….that sounds a\nbit old-fashioned, doesn’t it? But whatever, rest assured that there will be no\nquestions, comebacks, risks, nothing so far as these two are concerned. You’ll\nhave to trust me on that one,” he finished with a thin-lipped self-satisfied\nsmile.

“That’s a lot of trust” I muttered sourly.

“True, but then that’s a lot of ponygirl, my dear”, he\ncountered smugly. “Raw, wild and untrained and surplus to my requirements. If\nyou feel you can do better elsewhere….” He trailed off with a sly, knowing\nsmile, then beckoned Otty to come closer. “Unless they somehow escape, of\ncourse, but I think that is unlikely, given all the harnesses and tack. Plus,\nwe are very careful; this building does not rely solely on bricks, mortar,\nleather and chains to contain them. I work at the Cambridge Science Park, don’t\nforget, tech side, and Otty was an IT engineer. Smile, you’re on Candid Camera,\nmy lovely friends,” he winked. “Incriminated for ever more. Now Otty, love.\nWalk her over to the rear wall and back. Let us see those long legs in motion,\nand then I’m sure certain fingers will be itching to relieve themselves of said\nitch.”

Chrissie must have been holding her breath because it\nsounded like a small explosion as she released it, and Jeremy wasn’t wrong\nabout fingers. Mine were already formed into eager claws as I eyed that firm,\njutting bosom jiggling so delightfully, and knowing Chrissie, well, she’d\nalways been far more hands-on than me.

“There is more tack over there.” Jeremy nodded to a bench\nwith some packages and a tall, battered-looking corner cupboard lacking one of\nits doors. I bought quite a selection. As I said, Otty only recently put the\nboots on her, and her hands are cuffed behind her back. I thought you’d prefer\nto tack her up properly yourselves. We’ve had the cuffs, a leg hobble and\nthat thick leather dog collar on her plus that ball gag most of the time she’s\nbeen here but bar feeding the bitch and hosing her down every so often, she’s\nvirtually untouched. Well, untouched pony wise. No doubt she’s accommodated\nSamson's admirable endowment many times, but that’s no longer relevant. The\ncreature is surplus to local requirements so far as Otty and I are concerned,\nso bar feeding and cleaning, she’s been chained up in that stall. Who knows, she\nmust have been bored stiff, so maybe she’ll welcome some variety into her\nmiserable life?” he chuckled and then, looking at Chrissie, added. “Or maybe\nnot!

“So what’s the catch then? You’re giving her to us just like\nthat!” I asked, trying to come to terms with what he was so casually proposing.\nMy brain was engaged, although not fully processing what he was saying, whereas\nmy eyes were half watching the big German boy parade her back and forth in\nfront of us. I could see that expression of horrified terror in the pony’s big\nbrown eyes and wondered if she’d been ignorant of Jeremy's plans. There were tears in those\npretty brown eyes, and her head was twisting back and forth as though trying to\ndeny the situation, realisation doubtlessly now striking home. Although Otty\nwas the one holding her short leash, it was Chrissie that she seemed most\nfocused upon. Animal sixth sense maybe, for I knew very well which of us\nwas the nasty one, and it wasn’t me!

“No\ncatch”, Jeremy said, twirling one finger in the air so that Otty started\nwalking his charge in the opposite direction, still needing that steading hand\nevery dozen or so steps. “No catch, no charges, no fees. It’s ultimately up to\nyou what you do with her and where you keep her, although I insist on knowing\nwhere and approving in the latter case. Security,” he smiled. “I strongly\nsuggest, though, that you consider leaving her with us for the time being; we\nhave excellent facilities. In fact, thinking about it, I must insist on that\nfor now.” he smiled and nodded towards the stalls and then to a winking red\nlight high above that betrayed the presence of a camera. “In time, well, let us\ntake things one step at a time, eh, ladies?”

I\nlooked around at Chrissie, who reluctantly tore her eyes away from the mare and\nnodded in agreement. “A shade over two hours if the traffic flows easily. We\ncould even manage that midweek for a few hours, couldn’t we? I wouldn’t want\nher to feel neglected,” she purred”.

“No\nshortage of bedrooms in the old pub,” Jeremy said, jerking his head back\ntowards the building. “Apart from the landlord’s apartment I use, there were,\nindeed still are, three double-letting rooms and a single. You could easily be\nup here by seven thirty, eight, midweek and leave early next morning.

“Better\nstill if we can both do an early shift and maybe wangle returning for a late.\nWe’ve both done enough extra shifts to earn a little leeway in our respective\ndepartments, haven’t we? Babe?”

“More\nthan enough”, I agreed. It was a joint bone of contention that our busy\ndepartments had more than their fair share of regular ‘sick note’ slackers! “Plus, we can also arrange a long weekend\nevery few weeks. Somehow, I don’t think she’ll get lonely.” I grinned at my\nlover. “More the opposite, I expect!”

Jeremy\nlaughed and rubbed his hands together. “Excellent, now you’re going to have to\nexcuse me for a while, although I’m sure you can find something to keep you\namused”, he chuckled, beckoning Otty over. “Feel free to explore everything and\nnot just that exotic centrepiece”, he chuckled. “You will find a selection of\nsuitable tack over there in the storage area. I was sure you two would get a\nfar greater kick out of dressing her than we boys would—posture collars,\narmbinders, etc. If you need anything else, I can introduce you to several\ndiscrete websites later. Oh, and don’t\nforget the selection of toys as yet unused. I’m sure Chrissie will enjoy\nintroducing your new animal to those entertaining implements! After all, she’s made\nher one-time husband sing loudly for his supper and talking of hubby.” He\ngrinned. “ Chow for now.” he finished with a wicked chuckle and a mock half-salute.

Otty\nhad stopped before us, and I jumped slightly as he suddenly clicked his heels\ntogether and bowed his head in a very formal Prussian-like gesture, holding out\nthe leash. I looked at it for a long second, then my eyes followed it to the\ncollar, then the face of that gorgeous creature on the other end. What a range\nof emotions were in those glorious dark eyes, and one hell of a thrill shot\nthrough me. That saying, going weak at the knees, is certainly true, I thought,\nstretching my shaking hand out to accept his offering.

I\nwas a fraction too late; Chrissie’s arm flashed out, grabbed the leash, and\nyanked the pony toward her as she wound a couple of turns firmly around her\nwrist. I wasn’t surprised, for she was never one to look a gift horse in the\nmouth, and this was one hell of both horse and gift!

Jeremy\ngrunted approval as he grabbed Otty by his other hand and headed toward the\ndoor back into the adjoining room. He stopped in the doorway and looked over\nhis shoulder at us. Oh, one thing. No need to feel inhibited, and don’t feel\ntoo concerned if things get a little noisy, as I’m sure they will. This old\nbuilding is not soundproof, but the walls are pretty thick, and the area is\nsomewhat remote. We get the odd idiot visitor checking to see if the place is\nstill open despite all the signs and evidence to the contrary, but” he tapped\nhis pocket. “Lots of sensors and cameras now, so my phone alerts me. We’ll get\nyour phones set up the same way later on. There may be times when you’re up\nhere, and we are both out for some reason”.

Chrissie\nand I shared another questioning look, both thinking the same thing. We had\nidentical cell phones, and neither of us was exactly tech-savvy. Then again, we were not idiots either and\nbeing in the medical profession, people lived or might, in extreme cases, die\non account of us. We used technology every working day, did we not, so why\nshould we baulk at the workings of the odd surveillance camera or remote alarm?

Jeremy\nlooked at us and chuckled, probably thinking along the same lines. Back in our\nstudent flat-sharing days, he’d always been the one we’d relied upon to deal\nwith all the tech issues. Everything from adjusting all the heating clocks and\ntimers when daylight savings clicked in or out to programming the player for\nrecording our favourite TV shows. Plus,\nhe was one of those rare individuals who knew what every setting on the\nmicrowave did, unlike us and probably ninety per cent of the population!

“Come\nOtty, my dear. Watching Chrissie here exercising her right arm upon Samson has\nmade me decidedly randy, and I think a little relief is in order. It's time,\nmethinks, to leave another not-so-little\ndeposit in our stallion's delicious vault. What say you to joining me in a nice\nslow split roast? I take the rear entrance and you the front once you change\nhis gag. He does so love that, NOT! I honestly think that…..” he paused,\nstifled a laugh and spun around with a very thoughtful look.

“Yes?”\nThat expression on his face was one of pure as yet unasked question and aimed\ndirectly at me.

“I\nwasn’t joking, you know earlier, well not entirely. You’re both nurses, at\nleast, you are, and both medical-type people, aren’t you?”. He said quietly, seemingly partly to me yet\nalso to himself as though putting words to thought. “Maybe we should have a\nmore serious chat later, eh?”

I\nnodded, and he stared back at me for a long time before his face creased into\nthe most evil expression I’d ever seen on anyone's face. I think it was\nsupposed to be a grin, and though it was aimed in my direction, I knew I wasn’t\nthe one he was thinking about.

“Ring\ngags are so bloody hinderingly awkward, and one can never fully enjoy the full\ndelicious oral sensation an erect master's cock deserves. Whereas when a mouth,\neven an unwilling mouth if it’s free and more importantly safe, to clamp down\nupon one’s pleasure rod it, adds so much to one's enjoyment,” he smiled. “Not\nto mention one's absolute mastery over one helpless fucktoy!”

“What?”

“Yep,\nshe can do that; if she can’t, I probably can. I’ll help anyway; it’ll be fun,\nplus we owe you a big one,” Chrissie's eager voice cut in from behind me,\nadding, “NO, no, stop it! Don’t be shy, silly pony. You know you can’t stop me,\nso why bother!”

Jeremy\nlaughed. “Okay, I’ll leave that one in your capable hands to bat around. Come\nOtty, fucky fucky time once more!” He disappeared through the wide doorway hand\nin hand with his bashful giant German lover.

Little\nand large, I thought, very large in Otty’s case, as I turned to look at my somewhat\nsmaller and far less timid lover. Chrissie had one arm around Delilah, pulling\nher close while the other was greedily sampling the squirming woman’s right\nbreast and not being very gentle about it either. Delilah was struggling frantically, her eyes\nbulging at this outrage, and that ball gag wasn’t entirely cutting off what was\nprobably a very intense flow of invective protest. Hell, if she thought that\nwas bad? My eyes strayed to the corner Jeremy had indicated, and I could see\nthat collection of nasty toys hanging over the workbench. Nowhere near as many\nas on the rack next door, but enough to ensure a warm introduction to her new\nlife for the gorgeous creature.

“I\nlike it, so I think we should keep it. Delilah, I mean. The name suits her,”\nChrissie said. “What say you, pony? Do you like your new name? Not that it\nmatters,” she giggled as she squeezed hard upon a bronzed nipple, making the\nwoman squeak. “The only thing that counts from now on is what we like, your two\nnew Mistresses! Hey, Honey, don’t stand there like a statue; come and help\nyourself to a handful of this delicious animal. It’s not a dream; if it is,\nit’s one that’s come true. No point in\npinching yourself to check when you can pinch one of these gorgeous udders!”

I\nsmiled at the radiant expression on my lover’s face. Wow, offhand, I couldn’t\nrecall her ever looking so happy, so excited, so…. eager would that be the\nappropriate word. My eyes strayed back to the corner again as I joined her. How\nlong, I wondered, and it wouldn’t be me that cast the first painful stone.\nProbably not apt, and it wouldn’t be a stone she’d have in her sadistic little hand!

Delilah\ndid feel good, though, as she tried vainly to squirm away from my first\ntentative touch. Soft, warm, feminine and already with a distinct whiff of\nstable housed animal about her and those gorgeous brown yet terrified angry\neyes. Chrissie seemed to have adapted immediately to the situation, but my mind\nwas still boggling.

“Just\nget a whiff of this sexy beast!” she said and burrowed her head between two\nfirm udders for a moment before emerging. “Can you smell that odour of female\nanimal!” she giggled, confirming what my nose had just noted.

The\nsound of Samson voicing a loud protest disturbed me for a second, but he was\nswiftly silenced, presumably by Otty and that ring gag. That did remind me, though. “Hey,” I said,\nabsently noting Chrissie’s hand had now strayed much lower, and a couple of\nfingers had penetrated a very bushy mound. Delilah seemed to find that assault\nfar worse by the frantic way she was futilely struggling to break free from the\nsmaller girl's hold while mewing ineffectively into her gag.

“Hey,\nwhat, Babe?”

“What\nwas all that about? What did you just agree to? What was that about? What can I\ndo, or you will if I can’t?”

“Hell, Babe, weren’t you keeping up with the\nflow”?

“What\nflow?” I shook my head, leaning forward and inhaling more of that delicious\naroma of captive ponygirl flesh as my other palm began to caress a firm as yet\nunmarked buttock cheek lightly. “My\nbrain seemed to have stopped working just looking at this…what could you call\nit? Unexpected gift hardly cut it?

“Teeth,\ndum-dum, toothy peggie’s, teeth!” Chrissie laughed. “NO, no, stop that silliness\nright now. Kicking is not allowed, and I’ll only get cross, very cross, and\nyou’ll soon learn what a bad idea that is. Very soon, I promise,” she giggled.

“Teeth?”\nMy mind was not operating on the same wavelength and going backwards fast\nrather than forwards the more my greedy hands sampled Delilah’s warm, soft\nflesh. “Teeth, what about them?”

“Doh!”\nChrissie snorted, grabbing a handful of long, silky-looking but matted black\nhair. She sniffed it, pulled a face, then pulled the pony’s head down. Her\nsmall tongue flashed out and licked Delilah’s nose twice before bursting into a\ndelighted giggle. Her knuckles whitened as she tightened her grip, holding\nDelilah’s head firm as her other hand reached upwards.

I\nshuffled backwards a little, the better to watch her, my mind still in a whirl,\nbut my right hand didn’t relinquish its exploration of a firm, trembling\nbuttock check. How different it felt to the saggy, unappealing rear end Jazzy had presented for our paddles and\ncanes. A delightful shiver of anticipation rippled through me.

“These\nthings, NO, don’t shy away, pretty thing!” Chrissie turned to me, giggling. “I\ndon’t think she likes me very much”.

“Hardly\nsurprising. As I recall, you weren’t exactly popular with Ugly Jenny nor sad\nold Jazzy either!”

Chrissie\ngiggled again and stuck her tongue out at me. “I was no worse than you…well,\nmaybe a teensy bit worse”, she conceded.

“It’s\nnot your tongue that’ll be sticking out if you keep telling porkie pie, lies,\nMadam,” I told her and then laughed. “Somehow, I don’t think we’ll be having\nany of the ‘Do you think she’ll come back after that’ conversations, remember\nthose? Not with this one”.

“Nope,”\nChrissie agreed, “Because this one won’t be going anywhere, will you, pretty pony?\nNow stop trying to bite me, silly animal, not with that big ball in your pretty\nmouth. A nice wide one, unlike my small one, so \nI can never manage to show my teeth in a nice big beaming smile. These\nthings,” Chrissie’s last two words addressed to me as her forefinger pushed\nDelila’s upper lip out of the way and tapped on a gleaming white tooth. Then\nher finger moved back and forth, pushing the lip up, revealing the pony's teeth\nclamped down upon that big red ball. \n“Toothy pegs, but we might have to consult that friend of yours, Big\nMargie; she’s a dental nurse, right?”

I\ngasped aloud as complete understanding began to dawn upon me. What was wrong\nwith my damn brain! I’d missed half of what Jeremy had rambled on about\nearlier, being so fascinated with Samson and his predicament. Margie, or Big\nMargie as Chrissie called her, because she was built on the generous side, over-generous\nif you get my meaning. We’d gone to the same school together, and while not\nexactly close friends, we’d attended the same birthday parties and so on. We’d\nbumped into each other about a year or so back in the local Costa Coffee that\nChrissie and I favoured one Saturday lunchtime.

Margie\nqualified as a dental nurse in my hometown and moved to London two years ago to\nlive with her beanpole stick-thin partner. ‘Not so big’ Roger, as Chrissie\ntermed him, plus two cats and a bad-tempered parrot with a vocabulary\nconsisting primarily of the most offensive words available to the English\nlanguage. It had belonged to an aged aunt of Margie’s, and she’d inherited it\nalong with a decent dollop of cash plus the old ladies' jewellery—the latter\ncovering a substantial portion of the purchase price on the London flat they’d\nbought.

Roger\nwas one of those people who were useful to know. A qualified plumber plus a competent\ngeneral handyman who’d sorted out numerous annoying minor household problems\nfor us. As a rule, Chrissie didn’t get on too well with guys, but they’d hit it\noff immediately, chiefly down to the foul-mouthed bird. Roger had never met the\naunt, but he and Chrissie were fascinated by the parrot and the fact that\nMargie’s aunt had been a reclusive chapel-going spinster who’d had the bird for\nyears!

“Well,\nwhy not?” Chrissie smiled at me and jerked her head toward the open doorway to\nthe other part of the building. Samson had been effectively silenced, but the\nother noises indicated his owners were actively, and probably aggressively,\nenjoying the benefits of such ownership of their living sex toy.
\n
\n“It’ll be worth a fair few brownie points with Jezza if nothing else”, Chrissie\nchuckled, abandoning Delilah’s mouth and retuning her hands to more exciting\nparts of the pony’s anatomy. “I mean, we’re going to owe him big time for this,\naren’t we? And I’ve hated being in debt since our Uni days. Besides, I expect\nit’ll be kind of fun, at least for us. Something different!”

“Margie”,\nI mused aloud, even as Jeremy shouted something unintelligible from next door.\nWhatever it was, he sounded excited.

“Obliquely,\nof course,” Chrissie added. “Next time, we meet for a coffee, but not the\nweekend because we’ll be here, I expect. Give her a call and suggest a\nlunchtime coffee mid-week. I’ll think of\na way to introduce the subject, and then you can grill her on some technical\ndetails extraction-wise. Hell, it can’t be hard. I had that bottom molar right\nat the back yanked last year, and it was out almost before the dentist started.\nNow, then, this lovely animal has been left festering in her stall for far too\nlong. It’s high time to start her training, and there’s no time like the\npresent!”

Chrissie\ngave Delilah’s left udder a final squeeze, tossed her leash and smiled at me,\nsauntered over to the corner, and started examining the various punishment\nimplements hanging there, what was lying on the bench and then opening multiple\ndrawers. I felt Delilah squirming under my palm as she twisted about, trying to\nwatch what Chrissie was doing. I got the distinct impression that the beautiful\nanimal was decidedly unhappy, and with good reason, I thought, watching my\nlover.

Lull\nand storm were words that popped into my mind as I walked Delilah back towards\nher stall, looping the end of her leash onto a convenient hook before crossing\nover to peek into the big room. This was the lull, but Chrissie's expression\nshowed that the storm wasn’t far off, and a certain pony was about to be caught\nfull-on by that approaching tempest. Then she’d really be unhappy, not to\nmention decidedly sore!

Jeremy\nand Otty, as I’d expected, were both thrusting vigorously into their hapless\nvictim, one at each end. It was a brutal, even primitive sight to my eyes but,\nin its way, decidedly stimulating. I saw Samson's bulging, outraged eyes turn\nin my direction and wondered what thoughts were going through his mind. I could\nperhaps guess, but then, I shrugged inwardly. Did it matter? He wasn’t in a\nposition to stop them, and I certainly wasn’t going to interfere.

“Now\nthat’s what I call bestial on all levels!” \nChrissie had silently joined me in the open doorway, leaving Delilah\ntethered to the post like a dog outside the local store. “I wonder if they made\na video of his first time? But I suppose it's something we’ll need to decide\nupon”.

“Decide\nwhat?”

“That”,\nshe gestured towards the threesome with the wooden paddle in her hand. It\nlooked like the twin of the one she’d chosen earlier to use upon Samson. “What\nJeremy and his big lover boy are doing. I suspect poor Samson is more fuck toy\nthan Ponyboy, whereas our Delilah is going to be pure Ponygirl and nothing\nelse. Our very own two-legged animal, at least…!”

“At\nleast, what?” I looked at her.

Chrissie\ngrinned. “Maybe a little bestiality now and then, as per Jeremy over there or\nmaybe a lot. I’ve always wanted to go full-on with a huge strapon and no\nbrakes.” she paused and giggled wickedly.

I\nknew the reason for that giggle. Several ‘monsters’ were still in their\npackaging on the top shelf of her wardrobe. There was no way I would let her\nanywhere near me with one of those behemoths sticking out of her groin.\nSomehow, though, I knew the loverly Delilah would not have that same\nopportunity to refuse, not from either of us!”

“Well,\nthat's what you do if you own a pony”, I replied as we watched Samson oscillate\nbetween those two human piledrivers. “Ride them, I mean!”

“Mmmm”,\nChrissie murmured. Even her eagerness to start ‘training’ Delilah momentarily\npaused by the fascinating spectacle in front of us. “I think, though, we’ll\nleave her teeth intact. I like the idea of seeing them clamped down upon a nice\nthick bit in her mouth, and somehow, I don’t see us letting her do any pussy\nlicking. It seems kind of…”

“Demeaning”\nI nodded towards Otty. “Yeah, I get you. Okay, for those two primitives, but\nallowing her that privilege, well, kind of makes the bitch human again don’t\nyou think?”

“Precisely,\nHoney. My thoughts exactly!” she said, taking my hand with her free one and\ngently turning me around as I pushed the door closed. The boys were getting\nnoisy, both approaching a climax, and it somehow seemed appropriate. Besides,\nwe neither needed nor wanted an audience for our first adventures in real\nponygirl ownership.

“Back\nones”, Chrissie said, suddenly stopping. “Remember that couple at the club on\nPony night, Emma and…and…”

“George”,\nI supplied after a moment’s thought. I remembered them well. Emma was a model,\none of the twenty-five going on a waif-like sixteen type in looks and gorgeous\nwith it. Mouthwatering was how Chrissie had described her that first time, and\nI’ll swear she was drooling over the bitch! George was her accompanying pony on\nthose nights. Head to toe in rubber with only his eyes, his teeth where they\nclamped down upon his bit and two naked bottom cheeks bulging out of his tight\nrubber costume on view. Supposedly twice her age and the subject of numerous\nrumours within the club. Some said married, others said single. A politician, a\nmember of the clergy, the judiciary, a senior policeman, perhaps a showbiz\ncelebrity, no one knew for sure. Emma never said anything nor removed her\npony’s rubber hood. Not even Scarlet knew his identity, although apparently,\nEmma had let on that her submissive pony wasn’t unknown to the public, far from\nit!

What\nwas known was that he must be something of a masochist, for the girl was an\nabsolute sadist. One glance at George’s exposed bottom cheeks was almost enough\nto put you off your drink and bar snack, or would have if you were that\ninclined. Chrissie and I, along with most of the dominant patrons, found young\nEmma’s handiwork somewhat fascinating. Plus, the girl invariably added more\ncolour to that abused multi-hued canvas during the evening via one of Scarlett's\nprivate rooms. Private, at least visually but not sound, proof as he was allowed\nto express himself bit free for at least a part of the evening.

“Got\nit,” I said, making the connection my mind finally on the same tack. There had\nbeen that one evening when Emma had removed George's mouth bit in the main bar\narea early on. She was a friend of Miriam’s, the woman who’d given us Jazzy.\nWe’d been sitting in a quiet corner of the club we favoured with Jazzy, Jeremy,\nMiriam, her latest scrumptious piece of wannabe model fluff and another couple\nwhen Emma came over to join us with George in tow. Emma also knew the other\ncouple, Alice and John and their subbie\nponyboy, Prancer. So-called because he ‘pranced so delightfully under my whip’,\nAlice had told us.

Prancer\nwas another subject of interest and speculation among some of Scarlet’s\nregulars. Alice and John only came to the club on the ‘pony’ nights and not\nalways to every one of them. They were both senior partners in a prestigious\nlegal firm. Corporate law and other high-rolling wealthy types were their bread\nand butter or, more accurately, Champagne and Caviar, as Miriam put it. She also knew them via her modelling and\nshowbiz connections, which was why they’d joined us that evening.

Had\nMiriam not told us how they earned their daily ‘crusts’, we’d have assumed they\nmust work in the entertainment or glamour industry. Both were well preserved\nand in their early forties; by well preserved, I mean well preserved. John was\nsix foot two, broad of shoulder, flat of belly with the dark heavy masculine\ngood looks that would have made him a surefire cert for the 007 role and topped\noff by the most charming smile imaginable. Even Chrisie had described him as a\n‘gorgeous hunk,’ the type even she might be tempted to spread her legs for\nunder the right circumstances. Coming from my Chrissie, I'd thought that was\none hell of an admission!

Alice\ncame from a similar mould, tall, raven-haired, beautiful in that imperious East\nEuropean high cheek-boned way. Immaculate makeup and dress sense, perfect from\nthe pointed toes of her expensive heeled boots to her high ponytail of sleek\nhair with a sheen to match the gloss of her black knee boots. She’s been\ngetting on for twice my age yet could still look fantastic with hair that way,\nwhereas I’d have merely looked stupid! One of the few women we’d ever seen in\nthe club that made its glamorous proprietor look like an also-ran!

Striking\nas the couple were, they were never the focus of attention that honour was\nreserved for their ponyboy, Prancer. If Chrissie thought Emma worthy of a\nlittle drool, then Jeremy positively leaked saliva by the bucket full every\ntime he saw the boy. Which was strange given that Prancer was neither tall nor\nwell-developed in the way he usually preferred. The very opposite, in fact. He\nwas hardly five foot six in his hoof boots and very skinny. Positively wimpy\nand such a contrast to his two tall, imposing owners who radiated that power\nand ownership by their demeanour and attitude, not that they were unfriendly or\naloof in any way.

At\nleast not to us, although it was a different matter regarding Prancer. He came\nin with them obediently, following the reins in his Misstress’s gloved hand.\nHigh stepping so precisely in his hoof boots that he seemed more automaton than\nhuman. He left with them to climb into the cage in the back of their luxury Range\nRover parked in a reserved space behind the club. He stood rigidly beside them all\nevening while they drank, ate and socialised. Frequently enduring rough\ncaresses upon his bruised flesh from his owners or those brave enough to ask\nhis imperious Mistress for permission to touch him.

I\nnever saw Alice refuse anyone that privilege in all the time we attended the\nclub, for she seemed so proud of her obedient pony, a well-beaten one we noted.\nPrancer was not covered head to foot in rubber; it was more the opposite. Just his\nbridle, bit, posture collar, armbinder, punishingly tight waspie-like waist\ncorset, and knee-high hoof boots. His skin never displayed the same recent\nsavage handiwork that George's tortured buttocks did but rather a cruel\nlatticework of scars and wheals one upon another that mutely testified of\nmonths and months, maybe even years of more refined, more enduring but no less\npainful sadistic attention.

As I\nsaid, Jeremy was entranced with Prancer and invariably the first to request\npermission to touch on the nights he showed up. He was very hands-on and, for\nas long as he dared or thought, was polite and reluctant to become hands-off-off,\nmuch to the amusement of Prancer’s owners, especially John—double O seven and a\nbit, as Chrissie privately called him.

Even\nif they weren’t sitting with us, John sometimes looked around, grinned and\nwaved. ‘Hey Jeremy, it’s been a good hour. Time for another Prancer feel fix,\neh?’ John loved to tease Jeremy as opposed to his gorgeous wife, who was far\nmore reserved about her diminutive ponyboy. ‘I own him; I’ve trained him. He’s\ncalled Prancer because he prances beautifully in our basement stable or the big\npaddock behind our country house. He belongs to me, to us!”

There\nwas no point in prying further unless you liked being on the end of an icy,\nsilent, imperious stare and blotting your copybook so far as any further social\ncontact went. John was no less reserved as to the full details of their\nownership of the boy, although it amused him to throw out the odd titbits,\nespecially to Jeremy, whom he seemed to favour. He’d nod towards Jeremy’s\nlatest if present and whisper, “What's that one like? Nothing like as much fun\nto beat and fuck as this unhappy little squeaker, I bet, nudge nudge wink,\nwink, say no more, eh, Jezza boy!”

Jeremy\nwould pull a face at his hated pet name while John would roar with delight and\ncruelly squeeze Prancer's ass cheeks as though to taunt him further till Alice\nquietly told him to ‘Behave and stop teasing the poor boy’ and she didn’t mean\nPrancer. One only had to look at the\nexpression on Prancer's face and in his eyes, if Alice or John, for that matter,\nlooked at him to see that he was terrified of them. If the whispers were true,\nthen that wasn’t surprising, for rumour had it that Prancer was not a willing\noccupant of their stable.

Jeremy\nwas convinced that it was no false rumour which accounted for his fascination,\nwhereas the two of us remained unconvinced. Scarlett’s club had some pretty\nheavy players among the membership. Hell, given what we did to Jazzy, at times,\nwe weren’t far off that category ourselves. Besides, how could such an\nimpossible situation exist nowadays in a modern capital city? I’d forgotten\nabout Prancer until now. As for Jeremy, was poor Prancer the seed leading to\nthis situation?

Again,\nall that flashed through my mind like an ultra-fast instant sports replay.\nThanks to Chrissie’s reference to Emma and teeth, that had sparked my\nrecollection. That was the night Emma and Alice had been discussing mouth bits,\nand Emma had removed George's bit and pulled him forward so we could examine\nhis mouth. She’d had some of his back upper and lower teeth removed so his\nmouth bit fitted better, more effectively.

The\nguy who’d done it had been recommended by Alice, who’d also similarly done\nPrancer’s teeth. A German medical student financing his studies via a range of\ndubious medical-related extras being the responsible party. Miriam, I recall, had been very interested in\ngetting her fingers into George's mouth for a thorough examination. That\ninterest hadn’t been appreciated by her horrified young harnessed and bitted\ncompanion of the moment. The girl had become quite agitated, much to everyone’s\namusement. That was except Miriam, who’d got quite cross, and bitch slapped the\ngirl into tearful submission.

Alice,\nof course, didn’t remove Prancer’s bit. His mouth was never freed, unlike\nGeorge, who was permitted the odd drink and nibble from Emma’s hand during the\nevening. Prancer was merely a dumb animal to stand and wait upon his betters\nand no more. Jeremy had once asked Alice what she fed him. ‘Whatever I choose\nto give him’ had been the simple answer, along with the usual icy smile.

Prancer\nhad to make do with rolling or blinking his eyes at us and occasionally making\nalmost imperceptible motions with his head and body to communicate when his\nowners weren’t watching. On one occasion,\nwhen they were seated at a nearby table, he’d overdone it and been caught by\nAlice. She’d stared at the suddenly trembling figure in absolute silence before\npolitely excusing herself to the people she’d been sitting with before taking\nhold of his reins. She marched him first to Scarlett and then into one of the\nprivate rooms.

No\none knew what happened in the twenty minutes that followed, but she emerged\nalone and beckoned to John, who promptly joined her. He disappeared briefly\ninto the room to emerge half dragging half carrying Prancer to the rear exit\nand presumably out to their expensive vehicle. Alice meanwhile retook her seat\nand resumed the conversation she’d been having as though nothing had happened.\nPrancer had staggered along, whereas his Mistress was perfectly composed with\nhardly a single hair out of place!

“Remember\nAlice and Prancer?” Chrissie said.

I\nnodded. “You’re mirroring my very thoughts” I answered. “I wonder what happened\nto him and to Alice and John. I wonder if Jeremy knows. He was always all over\nthem?”

“Probably\nnot. Remember, no one had seen them for a while before the club closed.” I said\nas we halted in front of Delilah.

“Time\nfor a proper bridle for the pony, I think.” Chrissie chuckled, and an\nintroduction to her mouth bit. I hope you like it, pony because it’ll be a much\na part of your life from now on as those boots, your bindings and the tail I’ll\nram up your shit chute! She chuckled and grabbed a handful of long dark hair.\n“Plenty of material here for a splendid tail!”

“Plenty\nof everything”, I added, admiring the splendid creature again.

Chrissie\nchuckled and tapped Delilah’s ball gag. “Yes, I think this pretty mouth will\nlook all the better clamped tightly around a bit if we do the same with its\nteeth as Emma and Alice. We can practice on Samson, lots of practice if he’s\ngot a full set of gnashers!”

I\ncouldn’t help smiling at the look in Delilah's eyes as Chrissie spoke. It\nprobably wouldn’t be as much fun as whipping her rump and probably far more\ntroublesome to do, but….sheesh, we could do whatever we wanted to her, couldn’t\nwe? On impulse, I reached out and drew\nChrissie to me, and she reacted instinctively, hugging me tightly as our faces\nand mouths met in a long, lingering, deep kiss.

I\nstretched my other arm out and pulled Delilah hard against our embrace. Oh,\nwhat fun the three of us would have together….well, some of us. Two out of\nthree, not bad. What was that, sixty-six-point six per cent? My free hand sought\nand began to caress a trembling naked buttock cheek. Virgin fresh and as yet\npristine and untouched by whip or cane.

My\ntongue parted company with my lovers, and our lips separated. I wasn’t sure who\nwas trembling more, Delilah with fear and apprehension or Chrissie with\nsuppressed excitement. I looked my eager lover in the eye and winked at her. Two out of three in the happy bunny stakes,\nperfectly acceptable, especially compared to a few hours ago when driving up,\nwe stood at zero out of two! Two out of three and, besides, did the third party\neven count? No, not bad at all

\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

","authorName":"NickHC","authorUserId":"30a36844-629c-4185-8bb2-0ff6535020aa","rating":4.6,"ratingCount":5,"reviewCount":3,"quoteCount":0,"storyCodes":["Extreme","Real Life","Bondage","Domination","Humiliation","Pain","Rape","Sadism","Spanking","Non-Consensual"],"language":"English","readTime":133,"recommendations":[{"id":"1020fbb8-7892-444c-9645-25678c46b21a","title":"Bull Brigham, Private Dick","slug":"bull-brigham-private-dick","shortId":"46p9ycus","synopsis":"There's been a murder in a private S+M club. Private detective turned dom, Bull Brigham, has been hired to investigate.","rating":5},{"id":"48fb3ed2-c9d8-49df-967c-9c6cef1d921c","title":"Why?","slug":"why","shortId":"Q3GHw6bs","synopsis":"Two sadistic women, a house with secrets, and a man on an endless painful journey to nowhere!","rating":5},{"id":"4d7ce6cb-a4bd-40a6-bc42-e32ca4eb0b93","title":"Breaking Lockhart","slug":"breaking-lockhart","shortId":"bJ9HuEml","synopsis":"After Cloud fails to rescue her, Don Corneo and his men begin the aggressive sexual subjugation of Tifa Lockhart. Not for the faint of heart.","rating":5}]}}},"actionData":null,"errors":null}