GOOD BREEDING (11 page)

A week later he
and Sir Archibald took Isabelle, Clar
a and Phyllis to their new home
. The East house was a dignified, four square sort of house that was grand without being showy. Behind it were two stableyards and to Clara’s squeals of delight they found the first two
Jacaranda
ponies stabled there. One was black and one was pure Indian.

“I’ve great hopes of her in the three mile. They say the Indians from the
mainland
interior have immense lung capacity,” Adam said as the group paused at her stall.

The other was a pure African beauty, tall and dignified despite her bondage
.

“This one is strictly for dressage,” Adam told them. “She’s too tall for hacking and hasn’t got the stamina for racing. But she’s obedient and very responsive to the whip. Besides once she’s pierced she’ll look even more stunning. Clara had to agree, the gold at her nipples and labia would contrast perfectly with her purple-black skin.

A tall black man was introduc
ed as head groom
, Rufus, Adam said with a grin
,
was a big enough sta
llion to cope with a whole yardfu
l of ponies. The ladies tried to blush and examine his trousers at the same time.

Rufus laughed. “I’m countin’ on you providin’ just that thing Massa!” he said.

They returned to the main house that night but Adam and Clara went back early the next day and Adam led her straight to the pony stableyard.

“Clara,” he said. “I want to talk to you and the best place is behind a pony on a fine day like this. Rufus is preparing Andes Queen for us, she’s the Indian we saw yesterday.
”

A few seconds later Rufus led their mount out and Clara got a good look at the tack. The main difference
between what Cl
ara had seen previously and
what she was now looking at
were the blinkers, Adam was convinced ponies ran better in them and had had them made specially.

He made Clara be
nd down and look at the pubis,
jus
t above
where the straps divided to go over her hips.

“She’ll be branded with a J
just there in a day or two, after she’s been pierced,” he told her and Clara thought it would look splendid.

The pony made a very decent job of pulling the two of them and soon they were bowling past the plantations at the foot of the hills and Adam was talking while Clara listened in growing astonishment
to the extraordinary history he had unearthed
.

“Your mother was always very protective of you and I believe she thought she had good reason to be. You see your father wasn’t the Reverend Young who you remember and
who you
called ‘father’, I believe you were conceived somewhere very different and that your mother fled and was taken in by him. They married but she was always afraid her past
would
catch up with you.

“From the first time I saw your mother, I was sure I had seen her somewhere before. It was a feeling that wouldn’t leave me and eventually I found
a locket in the possession of one of my fellow racing enthusiasts. You see Clara, racing women as ponies has been a sport in Europe for a long time but only the very rich can afford it.”

Adam reached into his waistcoat pocket and produced a locket which Clara opened with trembling fingers. Inside was a portrait of a woman fitted with a bridle and bit just like the one who
was pulling their trap
. But Clara recognised the big, dark eyes and Italian colouring. It was her mother.

“I investigated further using every contact I had and eventually learned that a
pony slave called ‘Verona’s Dream
’ had gone missing some eighteen years since. She was a champion of some renown and was owned by
none other than His Grace the Duke of Loughmore.
I believe
that ‘Verona’s Dream’ was your mother, he sired you on her
and for whatever reason she fled.”

Clara couldn’t find any words, she just stared, not sure she understood all the implications.

“I needed proof though,” Adam went on. “So I spent some weeks last summer, you recall my being away, looking out midwives around the area your mother always maintained she came from and sure enough I found one who recalled your
mother being delivered
of a daughter
out of wedlock
. To make sure I brought her to watch your house
for a day or two
and she swore on the bible that
it was your mother
.
But still I needed more to be certain, and here I must crave your pardon, Clara. One day while everyone was out I went to your parents’ house and very swiftly went through some of your mother’s drawers and chests. I found a bridle and bit made for a pony slave. She mustn’t have been able to quite shake off her past. Perhaps that was why she was so protective of you.

“
In short, my love, I believe you are by the Duke of Loughmore out of ‘Verona’s Dream’ one of the fastest ponies of her generation.”

Clara looked at the sweating, flexing back before her, naked and whip scored. Her eyes took in the rippling buttocks as Adam carelessly swished another stinging lash across them. Then she pressed her thighs together as she considered the twin plugs shifting inside the pony as she ran and was flogged. Was that where she belo
nged? Not driving or riding but
pulling, racing, sprinting at the end of a whip lash, harnessed and naked; as much animal as human.

“It is what you were born for, Clara,” Adam whispered, reading her thoughts. “The Duke of Loughmore is a man fabled for his endurance and virility as well as his deep understanding of female discipline. Even now, in his eighties, he runs one of the best pony stables in England
and is said to have
three
of them before breakfast each morning
. Add that to ‘Verona’s Dream’ and you have a pedigree beyond compare!
Clara, my love, you belong in harness.
”

Clara felt her heart pound. It was outrageous, exciting, humiliating and she would surely live every day under her owner’s whip. She wanted it.

“Would I be stabled every day, or would I live in the house sometimes?”

“No, you would be a full time pony. The only time you would see a bed would be when a paying guest wanted you in the guest wing.”

Prostituted as well for her husband’s benefit. Better and better.

“But sometimes, Clara,” Adam put his hand high up on her thigh and nearly made her faint with pleasure. “Perhaps when you’ve won Archie some big race or other and helped rebuild my fortune and
Jacaranda
’s
as well, I’ll have Rufus bring you up by the back stairs and take you, naked, chained and whipped to my bed. At other times I might take a hand in your training and drive you, or maybe stay to see Rufus beat you at the whipping post for slacking.”

She rested her head on his shoulder, entranced at the vision of utter slavery he painted.

“But who would warm your bed while I am stabled?” She knew quite well but wanted to hear him say it.

“Phyllis of course. At
least for the moment. Who knows what
other women I might want to bed?
I might have you tak
e myself and
one or other of
my
mistress
es
for a spin
one day
.”

Clara shivered in horrified anticipation.

Adam reined ‘Andes Queen’ in and turned for home. Back at the stables, as they clattered to a halt, he required her to make the final decision.

“I feel that I am what you think I am.
And I do so want to be whatever you want me to be. Poor Mother! She was quite right to shelter me. Now I have experienced a life of wanton debauchery, I want to experience everything a man may do to a woman. Even making her less than a woman. A beast of burden. Yes, enslave me, Adam! But tell me first, what name will you race me under
?”

“’
Jacaranda
Fancy’,” Adam told her promptly.

Clara rolled the name round her tongue a couple of times. At last she nodded.

“I like it,” she said at last
and then laughed
. “Clara
Bestwood
is no more. ‘
Jacaranda
Fancy’ is born!”

Adam embraced her and handed her down as Rufus came to meet them.

Adam pointed towards a row of gabled windows above the stalls.

“When I need you to earn your keep off the racing track, that’s where you’ll do it
. They will pay according to what they want to do to you
. T
hat way at least during the worst of your sufferings you will have the satisfaction of
knowing that you are
keeping
Jacaranda
on a sound financial footing. Now, you will accept Rufus’ absolute authority in my stead and you know how to do that now, I believe.”

Clara knew quite well and holding her skirts up, dropped to her knees before the big black man.

The cock that was freed from the ragged trousers was nothing remarkable in its detumescent state and Clara set about the gentle licking and stroking that she had learned so well since her arrival. Gradually it began to jerk and throb towards erection, she felt it harden to her tongue. It grew thicker and longer, pushing her head back as it threatened to overwhelm her throat’s ability to take it. And suddenly she wasn’t so sure her jaws could contain it. With a muffled scream she jerked her head back and gazed in awe at the size of the thing in front of her – and still it filled and hardened until the polished purple of the dome was nearly half the size of her face. She could hear the men laughing and defiantly
she
grasped the giant shaft in one dainty h
and, unable to encircle it, the
n stretched her mouth until she was sure she would dislocate her jaw, furled her lips over her teeth and tried again. There was another moment of panic as she encountered the full extent of the helm but then he was in and all she could do was feel the way her tongue was flattened to
the floor of her mouth and the slightest of backwards and forwards nods was all she could manage. However, being in such a constricted space, must have stimulated the man pleasantly enough for suddenly she felt his hand on the back of her head and her eyes widened in fright as she considered what the monster’s ejaculation might be like. In the event she was perfectly right to be apprehensive, the thick, hot spurts had nowhere to go and reduced her to helpless choking and spluttering as the mess jetted up her nostrils. But at last he was done with her and she was able to sit back on her heels and get her breath. Only then did she realise that she, a fully dressed Englishwoman, was kneeling before a slave on a plantation and swallowing his come.

Back in the house and up in his bedroom, Adam fitted her into her bridle and bit, revealing a little addition to the ensemble. It was what he called a ‘split bit’ and all the
Jacaranda
ponies would run in them
,
he told her. He maintained that t
he more pain a pony was in the better she performed
. The split bit was a devilish contraption and Clara fell in love with it the instant it gouged into her tongue. It consisted of two flat metal plates about an inch wide. The pony’s tongue was pushed between them until it protruded on the far side and then the plates were screwed together at the back of her mouth. Each plate was coated with sharpened spikes and even over the havoc created by the
double penetration of her rectum and vagina
, Clara could feel the descant of sharp pain at her mouth. It would make her instantly responsive to the rein, she realised and much prettier to watch as her big eyes, albeit half hidden by the blinkers, would be bright with tears.

Fully harnessed,
Jacaranda
Fancy was led downstairs to find a gathering of all those who had helped with her training up to this point. In the brightly lit but seldom used ballroom, Adam handed her leash over to Phyllis and she was led round, preening and stamping as hands roved all over her and admiring comments were made about her.

Sir Archibald came up to her at one point and stroked her thighs.

“We will work you so hard you will want to die before you take to a track, my dear. But I am certain that Adam is right. Once you have won, you will have started to live.
Good
b
reeding will out.”

It was dark when Phyllis led her out to the stables but Rufus was waiting for her with a whip.

“Now then Fancy,” he whispered as her leash was handed over. “Let’s see if you really do have blue blood.”

When Doctor Osgood came a few weeks later to pierce her and affix her rings, it was Adam himself who held the incandescent iron forged into the letter J to his wife’s flesh and branded her. From then on, whoever took her would know that what they were enjoying was no more than property.