Hot to Trot (2 page)

Mark couldn't help but smile, although he knew it would goad her further. She just looked too comical, standing there haughtier-than-though and smothered in Albrecht's finest horse feed. She was certainly much more fun to play with in this frenzied state of agitation, so he thought he'd pull her chain, figuratively speaking. Oh, this was going to be good. Raising an eyebrow he asked, 'And just how would you plan on evening up the score, little filly?' He'd be impressed if she could come up with a scenario for him which was more daring than being tied to a four-poster bed with silk scarves and being spanked silly.

Jenny looked up at him from behind her long black eyelashes, which were still heavily laden with mascara, and contemplated the stupidity of continuing this conversation. There would be only one loser resulting from its aftermath and it wouldn't be him. Pursing her lips together and vowing to keep silent, she nearly erupted when he laughed out loud at her.

'Can't talk the talk? And here I thought you were a regular Miss Chatterbox. You're hardly worthy to be called a Redcliff. Come on and eat up quickly before my crop-hand gets overexcited.' His thumb lightly brushed the bruise on her neck.

Jenny decided that the gentle caress of his fingers on that particular spot could be likened to multiple calls in the same day from a very persistent double-glazing salesman: infuriating. Unfortunately, she had no tall tales to tell. What did she know about ropes and crops? The answer was virtually nothing. She'd once had someone use a pair of handcuffs on her, but that was about it. She frantically racked her brains for some perverted nastiness, but not a thing came to mind.

'You really want to hear this?' she asked in her most condescending voice, still facing the trough with her back to him. It was all bravado. Her mind was a complete blank.

'Gimme all you got, baby.' His smirk would have been reply enough, though she couldn't see it.

Turning her head around sharply she glared at him, narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth slowly to speak. Something would come to her; hopefully something ghastly, cruel and unpleasant.

'Let me see. For starters, I think I'd drug you with something quick and fast-acting like Pentothal. You'd be on the floor in a few seconds, in a delicious heap of unconsciousness, but you wouldn't stay that way for long. That means I'd need some strong, burly helpers, as you're a beautifully big guy in all the right places. Hmm, let's see... you'd be rigged up via a pulley system on either side of a large open window, with thick hemp rope. Your body would be angled and tensioned so that it jutted forward. The open window would be at least ten storeys high above the ground, and my preference would be for around twenty. You'd also be stripped naked and on full view to the general public, should they wish to glance up and admire you, which any sane female would - and probably the odd male as well. I would cut the first strand of rope on either side of the pulley, which means you would have to stay very still and not struggle or nod off. The consequences of movement, of course, would be that the rope would eventually fray and sever, and you would fall rather messily to the road below. That should be enough to incentivise your cooperation. Because of the tension you'd need to stand on tiptoes to ease the pressure on your body. I think I'd add coils of rope around your neck, too, tensioned to your outstretched arms, so you could not move an inch without choking yourself. You'd be the perfect mannequin. Then, darling, I would employ the
piece de resistance
. You would be masturbated to the point of climax, without release, every half an hour, and you would have absolutely no idea as to the owners of the hands that clamped around your cock, for I would make sure they would change frequently. In case you were wondering, they would include both men and women. To ensure no accidental release your cock would be fitted with a solid penis plug, inserted into your urethra. You'd also be wearing a cock ring, to make sure your penis stood proud and to attention at all times and if you appeared to be flagging, encouragement would be provided in the form of a crop, paddle or flogger. The crop would be applied to your buttocks, thighs and back. Perhaps even the soles of your feet if I was feeling particularly nasty.'

The words spoken were breathy, sexy and seductive. The voice that uttered them practically purred, but they did not come from Jenny's mouth. Her jaw was wide open in shock because from behind the shed a svelte blonde appeared, covered from head to toe in skin-tight leather. She was wearing carmine red lipstick and nail polish, with the stilettos on her feet matching the dramatic colour scheme. There was a large V in the bodice of her leather jacket and it displayed a lot of wonderfully rounded, tanned flesh. The woman must have been six foot tall, and to say she was stunningly beautiful would have been the understatement of the century.

'Thank you for that very entertaining interlude, Mistress Katrina. Haven't you got work to do? I left you a sweet, juicy little pony with which to do your worst in the dungeon. Be a good sport and sort her out for me. We'll discuss the day you get to tie me up, right about the same time that hell freezes over, time starts spinning backwards and the universe implodes, all simultaneously. Besides, we all know you've been longing to feel my boot up your ass for the last year or so, and you only have to beg me sweetly once. I know the first time's hard, baby, but I promise to make it worth your while.' Mark blew her a kiss from the tips of his fingers.

'Arrogant animal. Mark my words I'll sink my teeth into you one of these days, Matthews.' Katrina gave him a magnificent smile, with nearly every single one of her bright white teeth vividly on display.

'Oh, I have no doubt you'll get your chance, sweetheart,' Mark replied.

Katrina narrowed her eyes and looked at him with interest. 'Name the day, darling,' she whispered, with her teeth pulling provocatively at a bright red fingernail.

'As soon as they start playing my requiem, sweets, I'm all yours.' He winked.

She huffed, turned on her heel and flounced away without a word.

Jenny had to admit the woman had style. Her mouth was still open and she was blinking stupidly.

'Did you have a different version of events, or did you want to stick to that one?' Mark asked dryly.

'That was good, I'll stick with that,' Jenny whispered.

'I thought you might. Now eat up like a good little horsie or I'll find something else with which to fill that greedy little mouth.' He stared pointedly at the fly of his breeches. He felt an urge to bury his cock in the back of her throat, right up to the hilt, his earlier reserve be damned. Just one little excuse and he'd be thrusting away like a world class Samba dancer. Unfortunately, Jenny's face hit the food trough with such speed it was almost insulting. This was not the normal effect he had on young ladies. Oh well. She'd be begging to suck his cock before long; they all did. Feeling slightly spiteful, he added the next sentence for good measure.

'Make sure you eat your fill. You're going to need to keep your strength up for Mr Big and his friends in the training room.' When her face paled considerably he didn't feel quite the amount of satisfaction he thought he would.

Walking along through the short-blade grass, with Jenny obediently trailing behind him, his mind was elsewhere. It occurred to him, vaguely, that he hadn't even bothered to re-buckle her bridle as it was still dangling from his hand. Though the day was one of the finest an English summer could provide, with bold blue skies and golden sunshine, Mark found his previous good humour had curdled somewhat. It wasn't the bickering session with Katrina, for that was all it amounted to, but rather that her scenario had hit the nail squarely on the head and pushed all of his panic buttons. His breathing rate had increased. Not so she would have noticed; the difference would have been infinitesimal to anyone bar himself, but the woman had managed to embark her fantasy upon one of his biggest fears: acrophobia. He'd always hated heights and even as a small kid no one had been able to get him down the big slide in the playground. Age and a little bit of wisdom had improved his response to the irrational phobia, but it could still make his stomach churn. Being strung up like that would be one of his worst nightmares, but at least he hadn't given the fact away. The most annoying thing was that the image was going to stay with him for the next few hours, he was sure of it. On the plus side, he did have a juicy little morsel at his side, which should prove a reasonable distraction, especially considering what he had planned for her. Turning his head around, with the premise of watching her delectable backside jiggle as she crawled, he nearly keeled over when he found no one there. Surveying the area quickly he found Jenny up on two feet and legging it for all she was worth to the boundary fence at the back of the paddock.
Shit!
The gate was electrified.

Bottoms Up

Tearing off like a hundred metre Olympic finalist, Mark didn't have many options. He had to catch her before she reached that fence. It was there as a deterrent, so it shouldn't kill her, but there'd be a trainee a few years ago who'd gone into ventricular fibrillation as a result of the current. He'd had to go two rounds with the crash cart before they revived him. If that happened here Mark was toast - very
burnt
toast. So was she, for that matter.

'Don't touch the fence it's electrified!' His shout was so loud it nearly deafened him, but she didn't turn around, nor did she stop running. Either she hadn't heard him or she didn't believe him. Swearing again, he couldn't believe he'd been so stupid. The girl was unshackled, wearing no bridle and he hadn't been holding her leash. He fully deserved to be hung, drawn and quartered if this all went pear-shaped. Hell, he would be and no question of a doubt, courtesy of Redcliff. That man had been after a slice of him for years. Employing every last vestige of energy he possessed, with lungs aflame and muscles burning, he neared the escapee. His breath caught. If she took two steps more she was a goner. She took one and he dived at her for all he was worth.

The dive would have been worthy of an applause, had Jenny been a rugby ball. Mark caught her in midair and twisted her on top of him. While pushing her backward with as much force as he could muster he sunk the heels of his riding boots into the ground on landing and dug them in. When they finally came to a standstill he raised his eyes slowly upwards to discover the spiky tips of his hair were millimetres away from being fried.

'You stupid cow, you could have been killed!' he shot out angrily, eyes blazing fiercely.

When Jenny returned his gaze her eyes were just as dark. Even though there was more steam coming out of his ears than a boiling kettle, she couldn't resist a taunt. 'Cow or horse? Make your mind up,' she spat, feeling the heavy weight of his body settle upon her. She was aroused, yet again, and she didn't want to go there. When she felt his erection press into her belly it was small comfort to finally find he wasn't as immune to her presence as he'd let on. 'I'll be rescued soon enough. Why continue this farce?'

Mark's dark gaze turned to one of incredulity. 'You must be joking. No one has ever managed to escape from this facility and believe me when I say that better men
and
women than you have tried, and on more than one occasion. You've been sent here to complete your training and this is where you'll stay until you've graduated, as it were.'

'My father will have me out of here by tomorrow morning at the latest,' she retorted, the set of her jaw confirming she assumed exactly that.

'Your
father
is the one who sent you here. Good Lord, have you figured out nothing for yourself? He had to pay an awful lot of money to get you a place here so quickly. This isn't somewhere you end up by chance.' Why oh why had he credited her with a semblance of intelligence? It was clear that in the land of thought she was a mere child. Pampered little chit had probably never had to think for herself before.

'Liar!' Jenny was now trembling with rage.

Mark slithered a few inches downwards from the fence and rolled her underneath him before he had collected himself enough to speak. He did not appreciate being called a liar and took umbrage at anyone, especially spoilt little girls, who thought differently. Firstly he wanted to shake the living daylights out of her, not that it would do much good. Secondly, he wanted to slip his cock into any of the nice wet holes she possessed. Alas, that wouldn't be happening until she'd had some sort of contraceptive device fitted, which the nice ladies back at HQ would sort out after he'd finished with her. He settled for pressing a thumb into the beginnings of a mottled bruise on her neck and bit softly into the tender flesh of her earlobe. Her sob was music to his ears.

'I'll let you in on a little secret,' he said, releasing her ear while his fingers caressed the bright red bite mark. If you play nicely around here you are rewarded with pleasure. If you play nasty, you are rewarded with pain. The way you're going, my dear little Miss, you're in for plenty of the latter and not a great deal of the former. Now it seems that my Mr Adorable persona isn't working for you. Let's take it a step further then, shall we? It's time to meet Mr Damn-Fucking-Awful. Buckle your seatbelt, filly, because you're in for quite a ride.' By the set of his face it was clear he wasn't joking, and when he grasped a handful of hair from the top of her head to pull her forwards to heel, by the side of his now rather muddy black boots, Jenny knew she was in trouble.

Nearing the training room for the second time Jenny was panting heavily and a fine sheen of sweat covered her body. The bit was once again firmly secured between her teeth and her bridle tightly buckled around her face. Mark had added two sets of leather cuffs, securing both wrists and ankles together with a short chain between each, to make sure no further sprinting incidents occurred. The pressure he'd applied to her leash, which pulled at her aching, bruised neck, made her feet fly off the floor to try and keep up with him. When he swung the door open and stormed inside, she meekly followed.