Whip Hands (29 page)

Now she lay trussed at his feet, her legs stretched out but slightly bowed because of the way her ankles were tied. He knelt beside her, holding the phone to her ear.

‘Okay, now hog-tie me.' Jane's voice was muffled by the straw. ‘Do you know what that means?'

‘Link your wrists and your ankles, right?'

‘Right, but pull me back up into a kneeling position first.'

The hog-tie was quickly achieved by taking up the slack in the cord behind her back. Jane knelt facing the light, her arms thrust back, her pelvis pushed forward with her thighs splayed. She was panting and moaning as he did it. It was a position that caused a woman to be at her most vulnerable.

‘Yes, master. I understand.' She listened attentively, her eyes unfocused. Her thighs strained to hold her trunk upright.

For all Dino knew Homer could be just outside the door, getting a close-up view. He was past caring. He reached down to the scrap of cotton that still clung by the elastic to one of her pale thighs. It came away with a loud, tearing sound.

Jane squealed, partly in surprise but partly in genuine pain. He noticed that the action had left a dark red line on the inside of her taut thigh. Instinctively he put his hand down to touch. As he did so, the back of his hand brushed her springy bush. It was sopping wet with her juices. He gasped with surprise.

‘Dino, the bridle!'

‘Where?'

‘Hanging from the feed basket, behind you!'

He picked up the piece of leather strapwork with puzzlement. The restraint had a dull glow that signified careful treatment and the bit was of highly polished chrome. It looked too small to fit on a horse's head.

‘Hurry. I can hear him coming!' The tendons on her neck stood out as she strained to see what he was up to. ‘Put it on me, quick!'

Dino was aware of the horses in the nearby stalls becoming restive. He himself could hear no human footsteps. He strained to fit the black leather straps over her head. As he fumbled with the buckle at the back he heard whinnies of recognition coming from not too far away. Sweat broke out on his brow.

‘Slip the bit into my mouth, then go! Thanks for your assistance, Dino.' Her eyes narrowed as she strained to see if her husband was coming through the door.

‘But what will he do to you?'

‘Never mind. It is as we arranged. He must reassert his mastery. Now go!'

Feverishly he slipped the chrome bar between her teeth and tightened the strap.

‘Okay?' The question was foolish. How could she answer? But she nodded exaggeratedly as if to make doubly sure there was no misunderstanding. Her gesture was unnervingly like that of a horse turning mettlesome.

Clearly it was time to leave; his role was over. What kind of a freak was Homer to get his sexual kicks like this? No wonder they lived in the back of beyond, so that no one could spy on them. Well, almost no one.

He dashed out through the door. He was blinded by the sun setting over the roof of the opposite stable block, but coming towards him was a striding figure. Homer passed him with a grunt. Dino noticed the other man was wearing riding boots and, as he turned in through the stable entrance, he slapped one leg with a riding crop. The door was pulled shut with a bang, but the top leaf remained open and attached to the wall.

He went back to his car and picked up his camera. Just as Homer had instructed, Dino had loaded slow mono film. As he walked back towards the stable block he could already hear the slap of the leather shaft followed by a shriek and faint moans and cries. He could imagine Jane's strong haunches, marred by the dark lines made by the cropping she was receiving. He realised the bit was strangling any words she might have been trying to form. The image was already making him hard, and the thought of her paleness in the shaft of sunlight.

Taming a woman with a crop: there was something incredibly gross about it. But she seemed to derive considerable excitement from it. And, Dino suspected, he was going to get his share of kicks as well. He came closer and heard her quick breathing and the whimpering she was making despite the bit between her teeth.

Once Homer had finished with her the slate would be wiped clean and she could start to ‘go too far' again. Which was just fine by him. But first he had to concentrate on the job in hand. In the distance he could hear horses becoming restive. He had to creep into the neighbouring stall, which was empty, and cautiously take his pictures over the divider without Jane seeing him. Homer would have her positioned by now.

Not quite as artistic as restored tithe barns, but it would pose its challenges. He had to try and take each shot as the stroke fell, thus hiding the sound of the shutter motor. Dino could develop the prints himself in a friend's darkroom and slip them to Homer without his wife knowing. That was the deal. All for free. That was why Homer had specified a photographer as tenant. And now Dino knew why the rent was so low.

Two hard strokes in quick succession, and a piercing shriek came from the other side of the wooden divider. Dino could almost smell her musky juices, imagine her taut muscles straining at those bonds he had tied. He realised he was sweating in anticipation.

Dino silently manoeuvred himself into position and peered over into the next stall, camera at the ready.

 

-oOo-

 

 

Enjoy more erotic damsel in distress adventures by C. P. Hazel in Sashay, also published by Chimera:

 

How long had she been locked in the stocks now? How long since the two hateful women had left her alone? Tears filled her eyes and meandered down her cheeks as loneliness gripped her heart, and thoughts of poor Kiki being taken away again filled her with fear. Would her friend survive without help? Would she ever see her again?

Her eyes closed…

 

Mystery, Masochism and the murky world of modelling!

 

Natasha and her friend Kiki leave art college in Scotland and head to London for some excitement. Natasha's Slavic looks lead to an offer from a modelling ‘Academy'. Seduced by glamour she meets up with men who prey on the submissive streak in her nature, which she increasingly realises she cannot control.

After a traumatic episode in Paris Natasha returns to London, and both girls get involved in a risky escort agency run by a Russian mafioso. Kiki disappears. Natasha returns to Edinburgh, but soon longs for the hand of a dominant master and is persuaded to run off to Prague.

She finds herself working in a converted palace, used as a front for an infamous BDSM bordello. Here Natasha's craving for dominance is tested to the limits, and she must find a way to escape this cruel prison.

 

 

 

 

 

And as mentioned in the intro pages of this book, if you're a published author of erotic fiction and have existing work, the eBook rights of which remain with or have reverted to you, we would love to
hear from you
.

 

Or if you would like to write erotic fiction and submit it to us please check out our
Author Guidelines
.

 

Connect with us online:

Twitter