The Stables Ch. 02

Chapter Two

"How is she?" inquired Rowena as soon as Tara walked in through the door of her own office and sat behind her desk.

"Sore but learning, Rowena! Just like you and I did all those years ago! I am amazed that you have not taught her how to behave yourself though!"

"I just can't, my dear Tara. Every time that I think I should spank her to show her the error of her ways, I think about how she lost her mother and father at such a tender age. My sister was so against corporal punishment that I don't feel that I can go against her wishes even though she has been dead for nigh on fifteen years!"

"What about your husband? Why don't you let him chastise her if you are too soft-hearted?" inquired Tara as one of her trainees brought in a tea tray and set it down on the desk.

"He spends most of his time in work," murmured Rowena.

"Leaving you unsatisfied, I think?"

Rowena blushed and Tara laughed then asked, "So have you strayed?"

"No, well... only..."

"Only what?"

"Only with my maid occasionally," responded Rowena, going scarlet as she glanced up and found Tara's bright blue eyes observing her dispassionately.

"How very hypocritical of you, Rowena! Isn't that why you brought Emilia here? I can see that I need to take you in hand too, don't I?"

Rowena nodded and Tara laughed again before ordering her old friend to stand up and to lace her fingers together behind her neck.

"Don't move them away or I will get my heaviest cane and reacquaint your bottom with it, Rowena! When did your husband last discipline you?"

"Nearly a year ago after I spent too much money in Paris on a shopping trip," Rowena answered, voice spiralling higher in excitement at the thought of being under Tara's authority once again even if it was only for a short while.

"And did he have you afterwards? Plough your furrow with his big cock?"

"Yes," whispered Rowena before she hissed as Tara whipped her palm across her face sharply.

"I should not have to remind you, should I?"

"Yes, Miss Tara," said Rowena, suddenly transported back in time as she remembered meeting the tall, willowy girl for the first time.

It had been in the small building where her niece was now confined. Rowena had obediently removed her clothes when asked by the lady in charge of the Stables then, Miss Ruth, and been left in one of the cages for hours, feeling cold and miserable. Tara had sauntered in, dressed in a short black skirt and crisp white blouse with a crop in her gloved hands. A distant relative of Miss Ruth, Tara had taken to the delights of the Stables eagerly, soon learning that she loved to inflict pain as a way of increasing pleasure for submissive girls. Nothing delighted her more than teasing a submissive towards ecstasy unless it was enjoying her own rapture as a girl licked and sucked at her soft centre.

Tara knew immediately that Rowena was remembering what had occurred in the past as her light grey eyes glazed over slightly. There had been so many trainees since but Rowena had been Tara's very first one and that was the one you always remembered! Miss Ruth had left Tara solely in charge and she had broken Rowena quickly, making her admit to her desires and then had turned her into an excellent slave, able to use her tongue to drive her mistress to distraction. It had been a sad day when she had had to leave; taken away by her mother to be wed and although they had communicated by letter occasionally, they had not seen each other since. There was a lot of wasted time to recoup, Tara decided as she picked up the wooden horse brush from her desk and fitted her hand into the strap across its back.

"Do you remember this?" she asked, displaying the brush to Rowena and smiling as the other woman's eyes opened wide.

"Yes, Miss Tara," replied Rowena, swallowing hard as she thought back to the way the brush had titillated and teased her flesh so often.

"I thought that you would, my dear Rowena. Now, take your hands off your neck, unbutton your blouse and remove it then return your hands to where they were!" snapped Tara.

Rowena obeyed instantly, still conditioned after all the intervening years to do exactly what her old mistress ordered. Her fingers fumbled nervously at the tiny mother-of pearl buttons for a few moments than she slipped off her blouse and placed her hands behind her neck again, eyeing the brush askance.

"Hmm, not as flattering as your niece's sheer chemise!" remarked Tara, reaching out and stroking the brush gently over the lace material for a second or two before she slipped off the shoulder straps and let the garment slide down to Rowena's waist. "Still such lovely breasts though and I always loved how your nipples became erect with just the thought of being played with!"

Rowena groaned as the brush slipped over her naked skin, caressing her breasts with the bristles. She knew that it would get harder and start to hurt but she relished that prospect and the challenge of trying to cope with the sweetness of the pain that would flow through her body. An ache started in her nipples and shot down into her groin as the brush teased over her hard bud before it scraped down her white breast and left pink marks on her soft skin. Again and again, Tara teased the bristles over the woman's flesh, making the pale milk-whiteness redden and eliciting little gasps of pain from her victim.

Would Rowena cry as she had so many times before? Including that very first time when Tara had gone into her cage, pushed her back against the bars and brushed her naked body. She had fought then for a few moments, trying to protect her soft skin from the assault of the hard bristles but Tara had pinned her down and relentlessly brushed her body from head to toe, establishing her dominance and that had set the tone of their relationship ever since.

"Remove your skirt and the chemise now, Rowena!" commanded Tara and the woman hurried to obey, allowing both garments to fall to the floor in an untidy heap around her ankles before she returned her hands to her neck. Tara stared at the nearly-naked figure, drinking in the luxuriant bush of dark curls and the pale white thighs that were still slender and toned despite the advancing years.

"It is good to see that you have not let your body go to seed, Rowena. So many ladies do and therefore fail to attract their husbands any more as they enter their forties. Now, go and bend over my desk, legs wide apart please!"

Rowena moved across to the desk, blushing furiously at the familiar shame of being naked in front of someone else. It excited her too and she could feel her pussy moistening in response as she leant forward, reaching over the desk and then gripping onto the far side as she waited to feel Tara's hard hand on her bottom cheeks. So many times before she had experienced it but not for far too long and she found herself relishing the renewed battle between her submissive nature and Tara's tormenting, teasing dominance. To her surprise, it was not a hand that touched her bottom but the brush and she gasped as the bristles scraped painfully over her soft skin. She wriggled a little in response as pain slithered into her senses every time that the brush scraped down her arse and the back of her thighs, irritating the soft flesh yet sending excitement flowing into her body too.

Tara concentrated on one cheek at a time, running the bristles down then back up and feeling her old friend tremble as her skin reddened steadily. She increased the pressure and little gasps and moans slipped out of Rowena's lips and wafted gently around the room. Tara moved her hand faster, adding to the woman's sweet agony and the flesh coloured even more, darkening to a rich red colour as the blood was encouraged to flow to the surface in response to the bristles sensitising the skin. It was delightful to watch and exciting to hear the little cries of pain and passion that seeped out despite Rowena's best efforts to control herself. Then it became even more arousing as Tara slipped the brush between the woman's spread thighs and started to rub the bristles agonisingly over the soft, sensitive lips of Rowena's wet slit.

"Oh, please, no!" Rowena squeaked out as the bristles tormented her softness.

"Now, no isn't a word that I accept from my submissives, is it, Rowena?" murmured Tara coldly, tutting a little as she scraped the brush harder over the tender pussy lips.

"I am sorry, Miss Tara, but it is agonising!" replied Rowena, hoping desperately that her old friend would take pity on her.

"Good then I will do it for longer so that you can become accustomed to it and slightly desensitised. Any more complaints and I will have to use it very hard indeed until your pussy is red raw and swollen. That would make you very uncomfortable on your long journey back to the city, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, Miss Tara," whispered Rowena, trying to fight back tears as the brush rubbed infuriatingly along her puffy pussy lips once more.

It was a torturous and teasing ten minutes before Tara stopped using the brush and by then, Rowena's labia felt incredibly tender whilst tears were pouring down her cheeks at the pain. Yet, despite that, her pussy oozed delicate dribbles of love juice and she sighed with pleasure as Tara slid her hand in between the soft thighs and patted the squelchy slit gently.

"Still so easy to arouse, Rowena? I think I am going to punish you for being wet without asking your mistress first! I will be kind and let you choose though between the cane, the strap or the riding crop! Which one is it to be?"

Rowena swallowed hard, trying to remember which had hurt the most. Her husband normally used his hand or the back of her own hairbrush which stung like the devil when it landed on her soft arse cheeks. Tara was adept at using all three, Rowena knew all too well. Her true submissive side kicking in suddenly, she wondered which would please her mistress the most to use and eventually decided on the riding crop.

"My favourite, Rowena, so thank you for choosing it. I am sure that you will be delighted to know that I have a nice new one to try out. It has a longer leather piece at the end which should leave better marks and increase the pain. Wait there whilst I go and get it from the stable yard."

Rowena waited patiently, shivering slightly as her body remembered the pain that a riding crop, expertly wielded, could inflict on her tender flesh. It had been in her second week at the Stables that Tara had first used the fearsome weapon, flicking it painfully against Rowena's wobbling bottom cheeks as she had run round on the end of a short rope being schooled into obedience. Afterwards, it had been almost a daily occurrence for Rowena to fall foul of her mistress in one way or another and then the crop had been used liberally, leaving livid red marks wealing the pale whiteness of her arse. Now, after many years, she was going to suffer once again.

The door creaked open and Tara strode back in, fingers sliding up and down the length of the crop.

"A nice round dozen I think should be applied to this bottom, Rowena. Make sure that you count out clearly or I will have to start all over again!"

"Yes, Miss Tara," muttered Rowena, gripping the edge of the desk tightly as she waited for the pain to blossom in her vulnerable buttocks. The end of the crop lightly touched her soft skin and rested there for a few moments before it was whisked away and then back down, striking the already reddened flesh and leaving a raised welt on the surface as Rowena squealed. Somehow, she managed to stammer out the required mantra, thanking her mistress for the stroke and Tara smiled and whipped the crop down once again. Agony flared in Rowena's bottom cheeks and shot through her senses, exploding in her brain an instant later. Tears welled up in her pale green eyes and she gasped, squirming against the hard wood of the desk as she tried to cope with the pain flooding into her system. Stuttering out the number and thanking her mistress, Rowena waited, bottom cheeks shaking, as the crop was raised high once more.

Tara cut high across the top of her victim's buttocks and then low, just striking at the juncture of bottom cheek and thigh. Rowena howled at both and Tara smiled, enjoying the reaction of her old submissive as she became reacquainted with the delight of the crop landing on her soft flesh. Every stroke was an absolute pleasure to deliver and all too soon, Tara reached the final one, laying down the crop on the desk as she slid her hand up between Rowena's parted thighs and found her soaking wet. She pushed two fingers up inside the sopping slit then added a third whilst the woman wriggled against her hand and gave little cries of pain and pleasure. Stretching the puffy labial lips further, Tara eased her little finger inside then started to push her thumb in, feeling Rowena shiver in response. Wider and wider, Tara spread the plump pussy lips, insinuating her thumb up into the wetness as the elastic walls parted and surrounded her fingers with sponginess.

Little cries seeped out of Rowena's parted lips; unintelligible murmurs of lust and desire as, inch by inch, Tara's hand slid in until the greedy, gaping slit sucked it in entirely and then closed around her wrist tightly. Tara eased her hand back and forth, feeling the slick innards slither on her flesh as she reached round and slid her other hand onto Rowena's dark pubic curls, splaying her fingers wide as she moved them further and further down until she found the throbbing button of the woman's clitoris. Rowena gasped as she felt the pressure on her swollen bud and delightful tremors ran up and down her spine as Tara tapped gently on it while sliding her hand deep into her pussy. Tara built up a rhythm, thrusting hard and deep into the woman's spread slit then easing her hand out until the pussy lips gaped wide before sliding it back in. All the time, her fingers teased the pulsing nub until Rowena could not take any more. She screamed in absolute delight as her orgasm shuddered through her and Tara pressed down hard on her throbbing clit and felt it judder and jerk as ripples of rapture coursed through her old friend's body and exploded in her brain.

Afterwards, Rowena knelt submissively at Tara's feet and licked her mistress' hand clean, tasting her own sweet juices and revelling in the servile nature of the act. When she was clean, Tara told Rowena to get dressed before announcing that she would definitely need Emilia for longer than just a week.

"I suggest a fortnight, Rowena, but it may need even longer to turn her into a perfect submissive; one who is ready to be married off or owned by someone of her own sex possibly. Have you any thoughts on the matter? Any preference?"

"Not really, Tara. My husband and I will be leaving her all of our estate so she does not need to marry for money."

"Do you ever wish that you had stayed here with me instead of having to get married, Rowena?" inquired Tara thoughtfully, stroking her friend's cheeks gently.

"I do, Tara, but with no money behind either of us, how would we have managed? Nobody knew then that you would inherit the Stables and make it so successful and I, though from an old aristocratic family, had no inheritance at all as my father had gambled it all away. James, my husband, ended up paying off my father's debts when he married me. He always reminds me of it too!" stated Rowena rather bitterly.

"I always thought that he was not the right person for you, Rowena. You needed someone more dominant. James just played at it in my opinion! He should have had you whipped and caned often, made you crawl to him and then refused you until you begged and promised to do anything he wished. That is what your soul really wants and needs!"

Rowena nodded her head in mute agreement and then felt tears roll down her cheeks as Tara told her to rise before kissing her farewell.

"Come back in a fortnight, Rowena, and see the progress that Emilia has made!" ordered Tara and Rowena, excitement in her heart, willingly agreed before she stepped outside and got back into her waiting carriage. All the way home, she considered Tara's insightful comments about what she really needed, mind closed to the beautiful scenery as she wondered what she could do to make her own life more satisfying. An idea came to her as a sign loomed into view while the carriage clattered down the narrow lane and she brightened up, smiling slightly as she thought about how to get James to agree.