I left the stable and went to see my favourite new horse.
A little over 17 hands high, this handsome dark bay gelding was paraded before me in the menage. He was six years old and as he circled around, led by one of the servants, I was very impressed with his conformation; the way he carried himself and his superb muscularity. He had obviously been selected from the best stock and then trained to the highest standards.
I watched him go round and round many times. He didn't falter in the slightest. It was then that I noticed the servant had begun to slow a little, and stumble from time to time.
I asked Tina to take the horse to his new stable, and ordered the servant to remain where he was.
He stood there, head bowed and panting.
Tina returned and I handed her a harness and lunge rein set, specially adapted to fit the servants.
"Lunge him" I said, "he's obviously not fit enough to run simple circles. I want him lunged for an hour every morning for the next month. I shall be ready to receive another show horse then, and I want to see a marked improvement in his running abilities."
"Yes Ma'am" Tina replied.
"And don't spare the whip!" I added.
"Certainly" she grinned, a glint of excitement in her lovely hazel eyes as she ran the hard leather of the lunging whip through her hands.
Just like most of the new girls at my stables, I thought. So eager to find a fault in a servant and then exercise their abilities to apply some 'correction'.
Tina, who had been working for me for two months, was very attractive. A tall, leggy blonde with a shapely figure, she looked superb in her skin tight jodhpurs and riding boots. Her thin white blouse was unbuttoned, and she had tied the bottom together in a little knot that held it closed below her chest, exposing her slim waist. Her breasts were clearly visible as the gentle wind blew at the shirt, and her hard brown nipples showed through clearly as they jutted against the flimsy material. I admit it was a hot morning, but I rather thought that she liked to tease the servants.
About ten minutes later, she had fastened the head-collar onto the naked servant and attached the lunge line to it.
She walked back to the centre of the menage and held the other end until it was taut, some twenty-five feet away.
She picked up the lunge whip, and with practised ease the leather tip snaked out towards the servant, making a sharp snap as it cracked just inches from his backside.
"Move it, you arsehole" she commanded.
The servant sprang into life and proceeded to run in a circle around Tina, the bit on his head harness biting into him as it tugged on the lunge line.
Tina cracked the whip again, this time the tip tearing into the servant's backside.
"Faster," she yelled and the whip kissed his naked flesh once again.
"Faster! Faster!"
Sweeept! Craack! Sweeept! Craack!
The whip stung viciously as it was skilfully aimed at very nearly the same area each time. The servant began to skip in agony as each blow landed, trying to run faster, but it was in vain as he was already running as fast as he could.
"Useless!" Tina shouted, and began to concentrate her whip on his back.
I watched for a few more minutes as the wretch ran for all he was worth. Eventually, he began to stumble and finally he fell, totally exhausted. Tina walked over to him and kicked him in his ribs with the toe of her riding boot.
He grunted
"Day one" she said "thirty more to go." She laughed, and kicked him again.
I left her to it and proceeded to walk across the yard to see how the jumping lessons were progressing.
As I rounded the corner, I stepped into some muck that had probably fallen from a wheelbarrow on the way to the muck heap.
As I cursed, I looked up and noticed a servant in the act of emptying a load from his barrow onto the muck heap.
I approached the jumping arena and pointed at him. "You, follow me" I commanded.
With his face a mask of worry, he followed me towards the arena fence.
"Down! Lie on your back at the foot of the fence".
He lay down and looked upwards, not yet aware of his misdemeanour.
As I leaned forwards and rested my arms on top of the fence, I lifted my right boot and held it above his face.
"Well, what do you see?" I enquired.
"I, I, err.." he stammered.
I lowered my boot so that the sole hovered just above the tip of his nose. I could see the look of disgust in his eyes as the smell filled his nostrils.
"Well" I said, "what have you got to say for yourself?"
"I am so very sorry, Lady Jenna, please forgive me" he pleaded.
I lowered the sole onto his nose and then began to press down firmly. I twisted my boot sharply, causing him to yelp in pain and then dragged the sole down, across his mouth leaving a trail of muck on his face.
I rested the boot on his chest for a moment while I lit myself a cigarette.
I then placed the very tip of the dirtied boot onto his lips and ordered him to open his mouth and I pressed downfirmly onto his lower lip.
He opened his mouth.
"Tongue out" I said.
He did so and I pressed the sole of my boot onto it and then ran it downwards, covering it with a smear of muck.
"Swallow!" I commanded.
He screwed his face up as he swallowed the muck. I smiled at his discomfort and took another breath from my cigarette.
"Did you enjoy the taste?" I enquired.
"No, my Lady" he answered.
"Well, it's about time you acquired a taste for it then". I held my boot above his face momentarily and enjoyed the look of revulsion on his face.
I tapped the tip of my cigarette so that the ash floated down onto his head. I drew in another breath from my cigarette and, as I blew the smoke down towards him, I thrust my boot downwards onto his face and pressed hard. He let out a series of stifled cries as I twisted my boot savagely, and then pressed down again for a moment, before finally releasing the pressure and taking it off his face.
He spluttered and I stared down at the muck-splattered features of the pathetic creature.
"You will now lick them spotlessly clean" I said and once again rested the boot onto his mouth.
Gagging, fighting his revulsion, his tongue went to work cleaning the bottom of my boot.
It was an extremely difficult task for him as I let the natural weight of my leg just rest on his face. He twisted his face beneath my boot to reach the area between the sole and the heel where most of the muck was wedged.
I paid little attention to him and only removed my boot for a moment to crush out my cigarette on his chest. It was not completely put out, a small ember still glowing causing him to wriggle at the constant burning sensation.
Three girls were standing about six yards away and were involved in a somewhat heated argument. I asked them what the problem was and they told me. It seemed that one of the three, a rather boastful character called Claire, was making exaggerated claims as to how far her horse could clear a jump by; not in height, but in distance to where it lands.
The main problem lay in proving to the others where she actually landed, the other two said it was not that far, but Claire did not believe them, and insisted that it was much further.
Suddenly, the servant wriggling beneath my boot gave me an idea.
I asked Claire how far she could clear and she told me that she could make six metres from the jump. I removed my boot from the face beneath and instructed him to follow me on his hands and knees like the dog that he was.
I entered through the gateway into the arena and I turned to face the servant.
"I did not give you permission to stop licking my boot. Continue to do so."
"Yes, my Lady" he stammered.
As I walked, almost every step resulted in the back of my heel crashing into his jaw as his tongue attempted to make contact. His regular, irritating grunts as the hard leather slammed into his mouth annoyed me, making me eager to see him suffer.
Once at the jump, I measured the six metres and then instructed the servant to lie parallel with the fence at the mark I'd set.
"Please, no,no please..." he begged and whined. My annoyance increased. I snatched a riding crop from one of the girls and proceeded to lay into his naked flesh. The whip made loud cracking sounds as it bit into him.
"I will be obeyed instantly and without question" I yelled. I grabbed hold of the back of his hair and slashed the crop down hard onto his back and sides, a fast, savage series of blows.
Instinctively, he reached out with his arms in an attempt to shield himself.
"How dare you!" I cried. I ceased the whipping. I was incensed!
How dare he? A servant attempting to ward off a deserved punishment. It was beyond belief.
"Get on your hands and knees" I commanded.
Whimpering, he did so, and I placed my right boot onto the back of his neck and forced it downwards, pushing his face into the soil.
"Keep your face there" I said.
I further instructed him to keep his backside in the air and stretch his arms out to their full extent along the ground.
"I will now teach you to accept proper punishment without trying to defend yourself."
"Sarah" I said, "I want you to hold him steady by placing your boot just here."
Precisely as I finished my address to Sarah, I stamped my heel down hard onto the back of his right hand. The servant squealed in agony, and the girls laughed. Sarah placed a boot onto that hand and kept it pinned there with all her weight on that foot.
The servant continued to cry in pain and anguish for he knew what was coming immediately after.
He was right.
I stamped down hard with my heel onto his left hand and then told Caron to keep it held there beneath her full weight. I then walked round to stand in front of him.
"You may have the honour, Claire" I offered. "But use a switch to cut into him more."
Claire stood behind his backside and raised her switch, awaiting my final command. I placed my right boot onto the back of his head and pressed down onto the now sobbing wreck of a servant.
I lit myself a cigarette and breathed in the relaxing scent. As I blew out a stream of smoke I nodded, and the first slash of the long, slim riding switch came whistling through the air. A sharp cracking sound as it made contact with the soft flesh of his backside was followed by a bellow of agony from the 'filth' beneath my boot.
Claire raised the switch high and brought it sharply down a second time, striking just inches from where the first one had struck.
He squealed again, and the switch was raised for the third stroke.
I indicated for Claire to hold back for a moment and waited to see the weals that formed on his backside. A fine pair of raised lines just a few inches apart.
"Not bad" I said. "I want another ten strokes applying to his backside. Each one must land between those two.
Do you think you can do it?"
"Sure thing" replied Claire. "Anything for a challenge."
Such a competitive spirit, I thought. I took another breath of my cigarette, and nodded for her to proceed.
Sweeept! Craack!
The first, straight between the other two. The servant yelled and jerked in pain beneath my boot.
"Very good" I said. Claire smiled, and proceeded to slash her whip nine more times in quick succession, and with deadly accuracy.
By the end of the whipping, the servant was crying in agony, pinned down though he was. I went up behind him and studied the welts across his backside. Very impressive, I thought.
I took a final breath from my cigarette and placed the stub onto this most tender area, trapping it beneath my right boot. Ever so slowly, I extinguished it. He jerked and squealed in pain.
I asked the girls to release his hands from beneath their boots, and ordered the servant to roll over onto his back.
"Well, have you learnt your lesson?" I asked.
"Yes, my Lady" he replied, tears in his eyes.
"Good" I said "that's two lessons learnt in one day. The first is not to dirty my yard, and the second; never, ever try to defend yourself from any punishment I feel fit to deal you. Do you understand?"
"Yes, my Lady."
"Right, let's see if you mean that. Open your legs wide. Claire, hand me your switch."
He opened his legs wide and stared at me, transfixed with fear, again knowing what was to come. I raised the switch and brought it down sharply between his legs, the tip biting viciously into his tender parts. He squealed in absolute agony and I slashed the switch down twice more before he rolled over with his legs tightly clamped together.
"You have learnt very little" I said, "you still insist on defending yourself, and not accepting the punishment that you fully and rightly deserve."
The three girls sniggered and prodded him with their boots.
"I'll bet he thinks he's too good to clean the muck off our boots as well" commented Caron.
"Let's see" added Sarah, "roll onto your back."
The servant reluctantly rolled back over, then had three very dirty riding boots eagerly crushed into his face, all waiting to be cleaned. Though nauseated, he managed to struggle through all three, only to find the other three raised for him to lick clean.
I decided to let the servant rest for fifteen minutes or so whilst stakes were driven into the ground six metres in front of the jump.
It was patently obvious that he wouldn't remain in position no matter how nicely we asked him. So I had him laid between the stakes, with his outstretched wrists and ankles attached to them. Claire had already mounted her horse and was practising over a few of the smaller jumps. Sarah and Caron stood by the servant's head and waited with anticipation as Claire readied herself for her long jump.
The servant was petrified; he knew the distance was far too long.
The only chance he would have was if the horse jumped short and then jumped him. They usually jumped obstacles in their path, especially the horses used for showjumping.
Claire turned to face the jump and then, with savage kicks of her sharp spurs, the horse thundered forwards.
More vicious kicks and a few quick cuts from her riding crop helped forge him onwards towards the fence.
Accurate pacing, and a few more cuts from her crop, encouraged her horse to give his best.
They reached the jump, two quick cuts from the crop, and jabs from the spurs ensured his all for the leap.
It was a good jump. Claire had paced it superbly, the last stride perfect, no short step or stumble to hinder the beast's powerful jump.
Caron and Sarah laughed with delight as they watched the horse come to land - on the servant, front hooves landing squarely on his chest and stomach, followed by the second set.
"We knew you wouldn't make it" yelled Caron. Claire was furious and whipped her mount, dug her heels in and rode off.
Vicious little minx, I thought. Caron and Sarah strolled off, chatting excitedly amongst themselves. I had the servant cleared away by a couple of stable lads before following them.
I wonder if Max would have cleared that jump.
I'll have to practise.....


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