The days were shortening quickly now as the colder season of winter approached, the countryside was gradually turning from green into a rich tapestry of reds and browns, the bare tops of the higher hills stood shrouded in an all encroaching bleakness. After her first month living at Llandegley Farm that she had inherited from her uncle Mellory Jones had quickly come to feel comfortable in the farmhouse. It was as if it was her home rather than just the place that she had visited for holidays throughout her childhood and adolescence. Tonight she was dining with her friend Rhiannon in the nearby town at The Angel hotel as they did regularly on a Friday evening. Their friendship had been rekindled strongly after more than two decades. They had spent the day out riding together and their entrance into the restaurant had been accompanied by many admiring glances from all the male diners. Dressed as they were, still in figure hugging jodphurs and riding boots, heads turned at the sight of the tall, slim pair striding confidently to their table.
Over dinner their talk turned once again to a variety of equestrian matters. After a discussion of the day’s riding their talk took on an entirely different aspect. “I have been doing a bit of research into human equestrianism.” Rhiannon began. “I think that it might offer an excellent opportunity for some fun, it would be an ideally suited for High Wood.” Llandegley Farm covered a large area of Welsh hillside and although most of the land was given over to sheep grazing it also included a piece of woodland comprising some forty five acres of mixed deciduous trees, criss crossed by pathways that twisted and turned as they undulated gently throughout this large copse. It had never had any particular designated use and, throughout the period of her uncle’s ownership it had lapsed by default into a sort of unofficial nature reserve. Rhiannon briefly outlined her plan. Using “the slave” as they now referred to the erstwhile farm worker Hugh Llewelyn they would convert and renovate the brick outbuilding situated across the courtyard to the rear of the farmhouse.
“It would serve as an excellent stable for human equestrianism” observed Rhiannon. ” We could even relocate him into there once the work has been completed, keep him stabled in there over the summer and let the cottage for holidays.” Mellory agreed that this was indeed an excellent plan to move to the next stage if they were to fully exploit the potential of both their slave and the farm. “There is no real structural work required to convert that old outbuilding, we could easily put him to work on the project over the weekends, that way it doesn’t interfere with his farm work, the cost will be minimal, just the materials really.”
Once a week Hugh would be ordered report to the house, usually on a Saturday morning after he had fed the sheep and checked that everything on the farm was functioning as it should. He had been trained by Rhiannon over the past few weeks on the correct manner in which to present himself to his owner. This would involve him stripping naked in the entrance hall, putting on the heavy black leather collar that forced his head into an upright position. Then he would attach the leash that hung on a hook from the wall before kneeling naked on the rug in front of the big inglenook fireplace, the handle of the leash gripped between his teeth. There Rhiannon would circle him slowly as she read out her observations on his performance over the previous seven days, highlighting any particular shortcomings that she had noted and finally putting forward her recommendations to his owner, Mellory, as to the punishment that he would be required to receive.
In reality he had to do very little wrong to warrant being ordered down to the subterranean dungeon where, after a cooling off period of confinement in a cage where he had time to reflect upon the torture ahead of him he would be restrained and then beaten by his two mistresses as part of their entertainment. The two women laughed at the notion that they had stood the principal of innocent until proven guilty on it’s head. Nowhere in the world would what they were doing here at Llendegley be considered legal, but that hardly mattered. Although the contract that their slave had signed, effective handing himself over to them to do as they chose would carry no legal weight it nevertheless worked extremely well at one level. As long as he considered himself to be their property then that is exactly what he would remain.
Following on from his initial long standing infatuation with Rhiannon he was now coming to appreciate that the extraordinarily attractive Mellory was the in fact the more cruel of the two women. The streak of natural sadism that lurked within the mind of this slim, athletic redhead showed clearly in her green eyes as they fell upon her subject, briefly catching his own as her leather gloved hands caressed her favourite whip. At this point he felt any thought of resistance to the authority that she held effortlessly over him collapsing. He watched in awe as she sensuously teased out the braided black leather tail of the short, stocky quirt that she favoured using in readiness to administering a sound thrashing. His eyes fell from those of his mistress to the floor, signalling his complete capitulation. She would then take hold of the leash from between his teeth, wrapping it twice around her gloved fist so that it was shortened to the extent that his face was only inches from the seat of her tight black leather jeans. He would then be meekly led down the steps into the dungeon before allowing himself to be restrained and finally punished.
That she found such a large degree of satisfaction in putting Hugh through this really quite severe ordeal initially surprised even herself. But as time went on she had come to find this punishment of him strangely addictive, therapeutic even. She now admitted to herself the nature of these sadistic urges, coming to terms with the fact that, not only did they exist, but that allowing them to be played out in this manner added substantially to her quality of life. For his own part he had come to completely accept the relationship that had developed between them. To begin with the steel restraint that had been forced upon him as part of the deal, encircling his penis, preventing anything like a full erection let alone an orgasm, had been an object of resentment barring his way as it did to any form of sexual release. Now, despite his constant hankering for relief he was coming to accept it, acknowledging his mistress’ right to treat him as her property extended even to this area. Mellory was using him exactly as she pleased to provide her with the satisfaction that only the absolute control of another human being provided.
It was on that third Saturday of Mellory’s return to Llandegley that things had really undergone a sea change in his mind. She had been left on her own with him today and instead of him being placed in his usual cage when she had taken him down she had backed him into the steel barred standing cage built into the far right hand corner of the dungeon. She locked the door and slipped the padlock onto the hasp. The single panel of wrought iron door formed a triangular cage with the walls of the dungeon and, unusually they now found themselves face to face, his body only just fitting inside the tiny confined space. His captress stood before him, looking impossibly elegant in the tight black leather outfit that encased her slim, athletic body. Her long legs in their stiletto heeled laced boots were set slightly apart, her hands on her hips as she contemplated her prize. As usual she was expertly made up, crimson bowed lips, arched brows and her distinctively cut auburn bob. Mellory was every inch the perfect dominatrix.
Stepping forward she casually reached forward with her right hand and stroked the top of his shaved head with a gentleness that betrayed her comprehensive capacity for cruelty. Hugh felt himself relax into the pleasure of her touch, closing his eyes as her gentle stroking continued. She trailed a leather gloved finger down from his forehead, across the bridge of his nose to rest on his lips. He opened his eyes, feeling the grip of her left forefinger and thumb as they now closed around his right nipple, first clamping and then twisting the soft flesh. Once again those green eyes locked onto his, savouring the pain that she was inflicting on him as her grip tightened on the soft flesh of his nipple. “Shhhhhhsh” She was imploring him to silence. Even as the shock of the pain went through him he succeeded in subduing it within his brain, somehow finding it within himself not to cry out, When she released her grip the pain went up a notch, still he fought to hold back his cry. Eventually however she elicited the low sob that she sought to confirm her total domination of him.
Now there was the merest hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth, her lips parted sufficiently to display the two neat rows of her pristine white teeth, now showing her approval. “You are learning what it means to become a good slave” she said. ‘To suffer for the enjoyment of your mistress, you do understand just how much I enjoy hurting you don’t you slave?” He swallowed, considering the nature of her question, turning it over in his mind. Eventually he said quietly “Yes mistress, I do.” Sensing that she was on the edge of a breakthrough she asked, “So, if I was to offer you your freedom to return to your old life, would you wish to take it?” This time there was a longer pause as he considered all the implications of this question. Once again their eyes met. “Probably not mistress.” She felt the pleasure growing within her at this significant admission. Now she understood the unconditional nature of his total submission to her.
The clicking of heels on the steps announced Rhiannon’s arrival in the dungeon. Taking in the private nature of their exchanges she took a seat and silently watched her friend’s performance. Hugh’s total subservience complemented Mellory’s complete domination of him. Now his mind was captive every bit as much as his body. She took him from the cage and buckled the heavy collar about his neck before strapping his wrists into the leather cuffs, holding them in position high on his back. He already wore the sturdy ankle straps and she attached these to the steel bar that hung from the hoist, slowly she hauled on the chains that winched his body into the air until his head was well clear of the floor. She watched as his suspended body turned slowly, first one way, then the other until eventually it was still, presenting a perfect target for her whip.
She gently caressed the inside of his thigh with her gloved hand, feeling the soft smoothness of his skin. Mellory watched his penis as it fought it’s hopeless battle to gain an erection inside it’s own locked steel cage, only to be repulsed by the hard restrictive metal. A full month locked inside this cruel prison, she could only imagine the effects that this would be having on the man who was suffering such denial. This represented yet another layer of her domination added to all the others that he was forced to endure to demonstrate his devotion to his mistress. She reflected with growing pleasure that despite all these tribulations that he was forced to suffer his commitment was not only total but also completely voluntary.
Picking up the short leather quirt Mellory carefully studied the plaited shaft as she teased the braided tail through her gloved left hand before allowing it to hang down at her side. The weight somehow lent it an extra satisfaction, adding considerable gravity to it’s impact. Her slave was hanging in silence, watching the movement of her boots as she crossed the dungeon floor. She took the chains that had served to lift him, placing them inside the retaining clip in advance of the impending beating. His silence was a situation that was sure to change once she got underway and the whip made it’s inevitable repeated contact with his flesh. She steadied herself on her stiletto heels as she trailed the tail of the quirt across his buttocks, allowing the leather to softly caress the cleavage of his cheeks.
Slowly she raised the whip until the tail was behind her left shoulder before suddenly bringing it round in a whistling curve, gaining speed all the time until the braided leather tail made contact at exactly the point where the slave’s upper thighs met his buttocks. The stroke came so quickly that the sound of it’s arrival came far too late for the slave to anticipate the explosion of pain that it was a harbinger of. There was a very brief period of silence while the pain of the impact registered in his brain before the sound of his scream filled the dungeon, permeating every corner of the confined space before lapsing into a long sob. An angry red track now showed where the tail of the quirt had made contact, offering a target marker for a second stroke that Mellory was soon to use to good effect. Her aim was unerringly accurate as her whip provoked a second scream from the hanging slave whose whole body danced in a futile attempt to avoid a third cut of the lash that inevitably joined the other two, deepening and widening it’s now dark red weal.
As the lashing continued the screams slowly diminished as her slave gradually gave up the fight, accepting that his body was nothing more than a means of his mistress satisfying her sadistic desires. Endorphins, generated by the mounting strokes of her lash flooded his brain bringing on a serenity as a calm descended on him. Eventually she crossed to the wall rack and slipped the loop of her whip handle over the hook. She nodded to Rhiannon as she headed towards the steps leading back up to the house. As she passed she said quietly “He’s done well, allow him an orgasm.”
The following morning broke fine and sunny. A cloudless blue autumnal sky contained not a single cloud. The previous evening they had discussed the journey that they intended to make. The Human Chariot Company was based just outside Chepstow on the picturesque banks of the Severn estuary. Hugh had brought the cage up from the dungeon and fitted it into the back of Rhiannon’s black BMW estate. Now, with him folded safely inside it, they headed off to view the little trotting carts that she had shown Mellory the pictures of on her i pad. Just before midday the sat nav announced “You have arrived at your destination.”
John and Megan Pendry explained the origins of their company. “We just saw a gap in the market.” said Megan. “It’s very niche obviously but we now export our sulkys all over the world, John aims to make one a week and we now permanently have at least a six month waiting list.” They walked out to the workshop, situated in what had originally been a blacksmith’s workshop where a completed chariot stood awaiting delivery to the customer. ” Meg fancied herself as Boadicea.” John laughed. “So that was the original design. But these days the majority of our production is the Mark II.” They walked through to where another completed sulky stood. “Much more comfortable, well for the rider at least.” Megan ran her hand over the upholstered leather seat as she explained the difference between the two models ” This one is a bit heavier than the original design, the chariots are used almost exclusively for racing. This one is more suitable for a gentle ride through the woods.”
” Would it be possible to try one out?” Megan thought about this for a moment. “Well the problem with that is having a pony. I use John of course but I don’t lend him out, it’s a very personal thing, I hope you understand.” Rhiannon explained that they had brought their own pony. She walked to the car, clicking open the tailgate and sliding back the load cover to reveal Hugh, confined within phis cage. Megan laughed. “Well yes then, we do have all the necessary tack because we sell it, bring him over to the workshop and we can harness him up.” Rhiannon unlocked the cage and took hold of the leash before leading him over to the workshop. “He wears a chastity lock but I put him in a pair of shorts today.” “Oh don’t worry about that” Megan replied. ” I’m quite used to the male anatomy, I trained as a nurse,” Rhiannon motioned to Hugh to remove his shorts and soon he stood naked and to attention before the three women. “Let’s put him in the chariot shall we?” Asked Megan, her eyes falling on his heavily bruised buttocks.
She quickly fitted Hugh into a leather body harness. A leather head harness was next, she strapped it into place before slipping a steel bit between his teeth and clipping on a pair of reins to the rear. Now she placed him between the shafts and tightened the four wide double buckle leather straps that held his forearms tightly in position. She took a step back before making some minor adjustment to the harness. ” He’s a fine, powerful pony ” she observed. ” Will you be racing him?” Rhiannon admitted that they were not yet at that stage, but that they certainly wouldn’t be ruling it out. “Well if you do decide to compete with him I will give you a couple of contacts, racing days are really excellent events and give owners the opportunity to exchange ideas, as well as being enjoyable social occasions,”
“Who wants to have first try?” Megan asked. Rhiannon turned to Mellory. ” I think you should, after all you are his owner.” Mellory stepped onto the small steel platform and Megan handed her a dressage whip. The long, slim shaft made it easy to apply a swift cut to his shoulders should that be necessary. She steadied herself, the reins held tightly between her gloved hands. “Just follow the path down behind the house, it’s all our land although there is one point where it can be seen from the road but the locals know what we do and are they all seem fine with it.” Megan explained.
Mellory gave an initial gentle tug on the reins and said “Walk on, pony.” Hugh moved tentatively forward from the doors of the workshop. The movement was jerky at first as he accustomed himself to the feel of the chariot. She skilfully guided him towards the narrow path that ran to the side of the house and out onto the gently sloping meadow behind, the river estuary glinting silver in the bright sunlight. She touched her whip onto his right shoulder, giving it a firm stroke so that he gathered pace into a steady trot. It felt fine driving through the autumn sunshine being drawn by her personal slave. On the return route Hugh began to tire and Mellory used the whip more frequently to spur him on to greater effort.
When they arrived back at the workshop Megan invited them into the house. Over coffee they decided to place an order. The only debate was whether to get a chariot or a sulky. Eventually after some discussion they decided upon the chariot. “Six months, that will take us until mid April.” Megan looked at her partner. “Can we do anything about that?” He got out his order book and flicked through it. “I can juggle things about a bit, probably do one for you in about six weeks.” “I will transfer the deposit over to your account as soon as we get home.” Said Rhiannon. “If you e mail us when it’s ready for collection I will make all the necessary arrangements.”
Copyright DL Media – November 2019