Meeting Her Match - Page 55

‘Ummm.’

‘You should be nervous.’ Justin’s voice was stern. ‘That’s your role tonight. Other girls can do the bratty thing – it’s not really you, is it?’

‘No. It isn’t.’

‘So you’re the nervous new slave girl, anxious to please her master and mistress in any and every way, fearing punishment if she doesn’t get it right. Just like we agreed.’

I nodded, and now I really was nervous, a blend of performance anxiety and fear of the unknown. It would be OK. Justin and Maz would take care of me. It would be OK.

Outside on the landing, we weren’t the only guests ready to descend to the depths of decadence, aka the ballroom and banqueting hall. A couple came out of the room opposite and I immediately lowered my eyes to the floor, but not before I’d clocked a man in riding gear carrying a horsewhip and leading a human pony by a tight rein. I might think that I was in a humiliating position, led by a chain, collared and naked under my scanty adornments, but at least I didn’t have what appeared to be a horsehair-tailed butt-plug up my bum for all to see.

Fascinated, I watched the woman pretend to paw the ground skittishly while the men conversed.

‘Lovely leather,’ said Justin, stroking the ponygirl’s bridle. ‘Where did you get it made?’

‘At the SubSaddlery – do you know it?’

‘Yeah, got myself a few of their riding crops. Nice workmanship.’

We turned and headed together at a leisurely pace towards the staircase. Justin and the riding man appeared to know each other.

‘Who’s the new girl?’ asked the rider. ‘Think I’d remember if I’d seen that at an event before.’

That. I was a thing, a possession. My pussy slicked.

‘This is my new slave girl, Keris. Show the master your respects, please, Keris.’

This was my cue to drop to my knees and kiss the man’s riding boots, which were at least shone to perfection. I saw my eyes, huge and intent, in their mirror sheen.

‘Lovely,’ he said. ‘I’m Rider. Stand up – let me get a good look at you.’

I stood as instructed, while Justin, Maz and the pony watched on the sidelines. Over the balustrade I could see a throng of people, raising glasses and jostling at the foot of the stairs.

Rider’s crop outlined my nearly-nude body, starting at my chin then moving slowly down my silhouette. He tapped my bare hip, a little painfully, then slapped the underside of my breasts in their flimsy gauze. The leather returned and slid under my skirts, tracing a path down the backs of my thighs then back up again, sawing briefly back and forth between my legs. The glorious cold and smoothness of it against my still-burning clit was a sweet relief, but I was less relieved when he withdrew the crop and inspected its flat leather tip, which was damp and slicked with my juices.

‘Dirty girl,’ he said with satisfaction, then he presented it to my face. ‘Lick it off.’

While my tongue washed it clean and I burned with shame he continued chatting to Justin about me as if I weren’t there.

‘What’s her form? Does she ride well?’

‘She’s pretty much untried, but I find her a very satisfying mount. I think she’ll go the distance.’

‘Does she take the whip well?’

‘Again, she’s new, but very promising.’

‘I’d love to give her a gallop some time.’

‘Well, this is her first big event, so we’ll be taking it good and slow, but you never know your luck, Rider. Keep in touch. How’s, um … Sorry, I’ve forgot

ten your ponygirl’s name.’

‘Little Miss Naughty,’ obliged Rider. ‘Or just Naughty for short. She’s had some good rides lately and her dressage skills are so much better than they were. Mind you, it took a lot of whippings to get it the way we wanted, didn’t it, Naughty?’

She whinnied. I had to double-take, she sounded so much like a real horse.

Justin tugged on my chain and we turned to the staircase, stepping slowly. Maz leant on Justin’s elbow while his other arm was occupied in keeping my chain as safely short as he could. Rider and Little Miss Naughty followed us at a slow trot.

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