Stable Boy

By mid afternoon the rain had eased off and the sky was fast clearing, promising a return to the warm dry weather. Miss Worthing was cleaning round in her bedroom when she glanced out her window and saw Jim working in the yard, sweeping round and tidying. Then the black shape of Michelle Johnson’s X5 pulled in and Kirsty, surely the most enthusiastic of all her customers jumped out and rushed off to the stable block. She was glad to see that Jim, as efficient as ever, had put down his broom and headed after her, putting her customers first and foremost. However, Kirsty wasn’t the only one to get out of the car. She looked back to see Michelle getting out and heading across the yard towards the house. She went downstairs and opened the door for her.

“Well, well, well! A pink tracksuit!” Mrs Johnson laughed as she followed her friend through to the kitchen. “You’ve got the poor boy wrapped right around your little finger. I asked him the other day when he and I were next going to play and he told me that I’d have to ask you. What’s up? Are you keeping this one for yourself?”

“He’s…” Miss Worthing wasn’t quite sure how to explain it to her friend, or even to herself for that matter.

“He’s really got to you, that what he’s done.” Mrs Johnson was still laughing. “The great Celia Worthing smitten by a mere slip of a boy.”

“I’m not smitten!” Miss Worthing was adamant.

“Well, maybe not exactly smitten but there’s something about this one that’s slipped under your defences; you can’t fool me, I know he’s far more to you than just a nice butt.”

“Well, maybe…” Miss Worthing conceded. She went over and put the kettle on. “Now, let me tell you the latest. I’ve had a run in with Amanda Fforbes…”

The two women sat together over the kitchen table as Miss Worthing told Mrs Johnson all about the showdown and how she’d put a stop to Amanda playing with Jim.

“That proves it.” Mrs Johnson said triumphantly. “You couldn’t give a damn whether she hurt him or not when he started here. In fact you practically gave her carte blanche. Now you’re all huffy because she wanted to brand him. This one is special, admit it.”

“I just couldn’t stand that little tramp throwing her weight around any longer. I’m not sure I know why I trusted her in the first place. She’s got no limits, no sense of proportion. When it first came out that she liked a bit of D/s play I thought it would be fun to have a youngster around the place, maybe add some fresh blood to the pony club but she hasn’t got a clue. I mean, she only put Jim in pony gear because it humiliated him; she’s got no idea about real pony play and, as for branding, that’s right out of order, that’s completely outside the bounds of what I’ll allow.”

“I have to admit I never took to her, stuck up little cow. Just because her dad’s made a bob or two she thinks she owns the world, I don’t think she’d ever have fitted in to the club, talking of which, when’s the next Meet?” Mrs Johnson asked. “And, more to the point, given your current interests, who are you going to drive, him or me?”

“I’m not sure I’ve made up my mind.” Miss Worthing replied. “He does look pretty in pony tack and, like I said, it would be nice to have some fresh blood in the club.”

“Fresh blood in the club!” Mrs Johnson echoed. “Why don’t you just admit it? You fancy him like crazy and just want to shag the arse off him.”

“Michelle! Honestly!” Miss Worthing was amused as much as shocked. “Do I detect a little bit of jealousy? Don’t worry; I’m not going to just dump you just because he’s come along. I know how much a little show-off like you likes parading around, flashing her charms to all and sundry. Hey, you’re part and parcel of the club; it wouldn’t be the same without you.” Miss Worthing paused for a moment, thinking. “Come to think of it there’s nothing in the rules which says I can’t have two ponies, is there? Why don’t I drive the two of you, a matched pair?”

“Seeing as how it’s your club and you wrote the rules you can do jut about anything you like; drive a coach and four if you can get the volunteers.” Mrs Johnson pointed out. “OK, I’m game for it but what about afterwards…”

“Afterwards we’ll see.” Miss Worthing said firmly. “Anyway, enough chat, I should be out there, overseeing your offspring as she goes round the jumps. That’s what you pay me for.”

Still laughing together the two women got up from the table and went out into the yard where they separated, Miss Worthing heading for the paddock, Mrs Johnson back to her car.

As Jim chivvied the last of the girls out of the stables at six-o-clock the day had settled into a perfect English evening. The rain had washed all the dust away and everything was bright and fresh. He closed the gate to the yard and made his way up to the house. When he opened the wood box to get undressed he noticed that his jeans and tee shirt were already in there, neatly folded and bone dry. Once he was down to his panties he knocked on the back door and made his way in. There was no one about so, rather than wandering around the house, he waited in the kitchen. On a sudden impulse he dropped to his knees and that’s how Miss Worthing found him when she appeared a few moments later. She was wearing a full-length satin dressing gown in a rich burgundy with matching slippers and to Jim’s eyes she was perfection personified.

“Ah, I thought I heard something. If it isn’t my stable boy, the one who forgot to have Morning Dew ready on time this morning. Do you think I should have to put up with such behaviour?”

“No, Miss Worthing. I’m sorry, Miss Worthing.” Jim hung his head; on his knees in front of this magnificent woman a confused tempest of emotions swirled within him. Part of him knew this was stupid. He’d not done anything wrong, not in any serious way, and that kneeling here in front of her wearing only pink lacy panties and a cage around his penis was pathetic and demeaning. However, this was countered by a far stronger need, a need that came from deep within him, a need that had to be here, that had to surrender, to offer himself. Part of it, most of it, was sexual and was driven direct from his groin but there was more to it than that, there was an emotional side of almost spiritual intensity that wanted to bow down and worship.

“And what do you think? Does my stable boy deserve to be punished?” Miss Worthing asked.

There was a pause as both sides realised that this marked a whole new step in their relationship. Both knew that by admitting that he ‘deserved’ to be punished he’d really be admitting that he ‘wanted’ to be punished. More and more the implicit was becoming explicit.

“Yes, Mistress.” Jim replied softly. “Your stable boy deserves to be punished.” There, he’d said it.

“You do indeed.” Miss Worthing let out the breath she didn’t know she had been holding and was suddenly brisk, business like. “Follow me.”

She led Jim, still shuffling along on his knees to the lounge. There he was ordered to stand up and lean over, placing his hands flat on the surface of a leather pouffe. Miss Worthing went over to the sideboard and fetched a paddle that was laying there returning to nudge his feet apart before she was satisfied with his position. She put one hand on the small of his back and with the other she reached between his thighs and used her slender fingers to manipulate his testicles through the lacy material of his panties.

“Do you like being my stable boy?” She asked.

“Yes, Mistress.” Jim croaked.

“You’ve got to be good if you want to be my stable boy, haven’t you?” She continued. “And, if you’re not good, if you don’t meet my standards, you’ve got to be punished so that you can learn, learn to be better. You want to be better, don’t you?”

“Yes. Yes please, Mistress.”

“Of course you do. You want to be the best little stable boy you can be, just to please your Mistress.” Miss Worthing’s tone was condescending, as if she were talking to a dim child. “Now how about saying ‘thank you’ for all the trouble I’m taking over you.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” And Jim meant it, really meant it.

All the time this was going on Jim’s mouth was dry and the combined pressures from his groin were a mixture of agony and ecstasy. His penis wanted to explode and the tips of Miss Worthing’s fingers were sending shivers of pure pleasure coursing though him but the cage kept him cramped and constrained; the thrill of her touch was balanced by the agony of knowing that there was no certainty of any release to his mounting frustration. However, he would still far, far prefer the unreleased thrill to no thrill at all and he gave a sigh of disappointment when she let go.

THWAPP!! Jim couldn’t suppress a squeak as the first stroke landed. This wasn’t the agony that he had suffered under Amanda, not the line of fire he’d come to associate with the riding crop but his buttocks still smarted and he’d hardly had time to draw breath before – THWAPP!! – the next stroke landed. This was no harder but he still hadn’t fully recovered from the first stroke and the two combined to really sting. His hands clawed at the edges of the pouffe and he struggled to keep control; - THWAPP!! - the steady beat of the paddle was raising a furnace within his buttocks, each blow stoking it higher and he was having to fight back the tears; he really, really didn’t want to break down in front of Miss Worthing, he wanted so much to show that he could take it, that he could be what she wanted but, try as he might, he couldn’t stop himself as tears welled into his eyes and he shook like a leaf. He’d fully lost count when she finally stopped and he was left, his buttocks two balls of fire. Jim was awash in a sea of emotions; for all that his buttocks stung like crazy his erection crushed in its cage was, if anything, stronger than ever.

He felt the soft touch of the tips of Miss Worthing’s fingers trailing over the lacy material covering his battered flesh.

“Just stay like that for a moment. Let the lesson sink in. You have learnt your lesson, haven’t you?” She said.

“Yes, Mistress.” Jim sniffed back the tears. Every fibre of his being wanted to reach back and rub his buttocks, ease away the pain but he knew he would never get away with that so he gripped the edges of the pouffe and tried to stay as still as possible.

For maybe a minute or so Miss Worthing left Jim bent over, giving him time to recover. She sat back on her chaise longue and watched Jim’s thigh muscles work as he absorbed the pain. His cute little butt looked so sweet in his pretty pink panties and there was something about having a man bent over in front of her, his well tanned buttocks testament to his devotion.  She let the paddle fall to the floor beside her.

“Well, what do you say?” She said at last.

“Thank you, Mistress.” He said ardently.

“Well, say thank you properly. You know what to do”

Jim turned his head to see Miss Worthing, her gown open to the waist showing that she was wearing some sort of matching chemise underneath. She had kicked off her slippers and her long legs lay along the length of the chaise so he knelt down beside her and fervently kissed the tips of her toes. He glanced up at Miss Worthing and the look on her face told him that she was impatient for more so he quickly moved to kissing her calves, her knees, her thighs, her…

“No, not that! Lie down on the hearth rug, I want your body, now!” She suddenly demanded. Jim looked behind him; there was a sheepskin rug laid out in front of the fireplace so he scuttled over and laid full length upon it; his sensitive buttocks feeling every strand of the soft wool. Miss Worthing followed him over taking the key from around her neck as she came. She yanked down the front of his panties, stretching the waistband to tuck it under his testicles. Then she reached for the padlock holding the cage around his penis and undid it as quickly as she could, tossing both the cage and the padlock onto the sofa when she had finished. Taking Jim’s penis in her hands she knelt over him, straddling him, the burgundy satin of her gown now fully open as it cascaded around her. She shifted forward slightly and Jim’s groin disappeared beneath the hem of her chemise. He felt the tip of his penis slide back and forth against well lubricated flesh a couple of times before, in a simple, smooth movement; she slid it into her and settled herself on his hips. She leant forward and rested her hands on his shoulders, staring down at him.

“Don’t you dare move.” Her voice was husky, insistent. “And if you dare come before I’m ready…”

Slowly, sensuously, she moved her hips back and forth, easing him back and forth within her. Jim knew he’d never felt anything this wonderful, this powerful; this was so much better than the time in Mrs Johnson’s garden and he was fighting to control himself, to hold back the growing pressure in his testicles. Her hands gripped his shoulders ever tighter but it wasn’t just them that had him pinned to the floor; her intense stare, her eyes boring down on him, was a far stronger bond.

Miss Worthing was moving more and more powerfully, grinding her hips into him with circular movements; Jim could feel her inner muscles working against his penis; thrilling him to the core. The sheer intensity of Miss Worthing’s passion was overwhelming him and the fact that he was being used, that he had no control, no say in the proceedings, was all part of the intensity. He could feel her gripping harder; her eyes misted over.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” Her voice was almost a growl.

“Yes, yes, Mistress.” Jim gasped.

“All mi…” She never got to finish the sentence. Jim could feel her muscles going into spasm. Her actions lost their smoothness and became urgent, and uncontrolled until, with a shout of joy, she pounded herself onto him again and again before they climaxed together and she collapsed forward, her head lying next to Jim, exhausted and sated. For several moments they just lay there.

“Umm… Not bad, not bad at all.” She purred once she had got her breath back. She even snuggled into him, enjoying the feel of flesh on flesh. “Such a good little stable boy.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” Jim replied, a little unnerved by this gentler side to Miss Worthing.

“Yes, well…” Miss Worthing knelt back up and eased herself off Jim’s rapidly softening penis. “That’s quite enough of that. I need a shower and so do you. You’ll find one in the downstairs bathroom. Second door on the left down the hall.” She stood up and, gathering her gown around her, went off upstairs. Jim stood up groggily and went off to find the shower.

It felt strange not to be wearing the cage; after a week it had become normal to feel it there and, as he soaped himself down, he enjoyed the sensation of soaping his genitals whilst unfettered. Curiously a large part of him missed the cage; it had become so much part of his everyday life that it didn’t feel right now that he was not wearing it. Nervous that he would keep Miss Worthing waiting he didn’t take long before getting out and finding a towel. Once he was clean and dry he reached for his panties but they were a sodden mess and he didn’t feel it appropriate to put them back on so, carrying them in his hand, he returned to the lounge and knelt down on the hearth rug to wait.

It was quite twenty minutes later when, fully refreshed and resplendent in a clean dressing gown, Miss Worthing reappeared.

“Right then.” Her tone was matter of fact, as if nothing had happened between them. “It’s getting late. Let’s get your cage back on and get you home.” She looked down and saw that he wasn’t wearing the panties. “No panties? Let me see.” Jim held out his hand with the soiled panties lying on his palm. “Yes, well, they’re for the wash; so is my dressing gown. You can do that tomorrow, after you’ve done your morning duties. Now stand up; it’s time to get you dressed.”

Dressed, of course, meant caged and Miss Worthing was as straightforward as always as she fastened the padlock.

“There you go.” She said with a smile. “All done and dusted. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And, with a peck to the cheek she dismissed him.

*******

The next morning Jim’s sunny mood reflected the weather and there was a spring in his step as he made his way through the lanes to New Farm. He felt fresh and alive although he had hardly slept a wink last night; he’d been far to busy replaying the amazing scene as Miss Worthing had knelt over him; nothing, nothing on earth could ever compare with that moment. The thought that in an hour or so he would be seeing her again spurred him on.

Whilst Jim was busy opening up the stables and starting on his morning schedule Miss Worthing was drinking a cup of coffee in her kitchen. Her daily ride out on Morning Dew was part of her routine, part of what woke her up, but the added twist of having Jim to play with was certainly brightening up her days. She remembered how good he had felt having him inside her the previous evening and smiled at the knowledge that the lad was so besotted that he was hers for the asking. She glanced at the clock, ten to seven; it would do the little dear good to be a bit early for a change. She put down her coffee cup and headed for the door.

Jim was still finishing off Morning Dew’s tack when Miss Worthing entered the stables and there was no way he could pretend otherwise.

“Shouldn’t you be ready, waiting for inspection?” Miss Worthing asked as she came up to him.

“I’m sorry, Miss Worthing.” Jim replied. “You’re a bit early this…”

“Do I look like I’m the least bit interested in your pathetic excuses?” Miss Worthing cut across him. “Get to the tack room, now!”

“I’m sorry, Miss Worthing.” Jim said as he hurried off to go and stand on his box. He dropped his trousers and panties and stood there waiting.

“Wasn’t it only yesterday I had to punish you for being late? It doesn’t look like you’ve learnt your lesson, does it.” Miss Worthing said as she inspected the cage. She gave it an extra twist on the word ‘lesson’.

“I’m sorry, Miss Worthing.” Jim repeated.

“Can you say anything apart from ‘I’m sorry’” She asked. “Being sorry isn’t good enough, not if you want to be my stable boy, is it?”

“No, Miss Worthing.” Jim replied, crestfallen. “I’m sor…” He just stopped himself in time.

Miss Worthing looked up at his puppy dog eyes and nearly relented. However, his penis, swollen within its cage showed that she still had his full attention and he was going to have to learn that part of the fun was her right to be far from reasonable.

“Well, this all looks OK.” She said, turning back to the cage around his penis. “Now get down and fetch my boots. I haven’t got time to hang around all morning.”

Jim got down off his box and reached for Miss Worthing’s riding boots. This morning, as he fitted them, Miss Worthing made no pretence about what she was doing as she rubbed his penis with the sole of her foot. Jim knelt up, opening his knees, offering himself to her. Miss Worthing waited until Jim’s breathing became shallow and rapid before withdrawing her foot and standing up

“That’s quite enough of that.” She said briskly. “You’ve got a busy day ahead of you so you’d best get a move on.” And, leaving Jim floundering, she went off and took Morning Dew out into the paddock.

Jim bustled round making sure that everything was as ship shape as possible. Miss Worthing’s changeable attitude had thrown him, he couldn’t tell when she was playing and when she was serious. He was nearly finished when Miss Worthing returned. She led Morning Dew up to him and handed over the reins.

“You’ve got quite a bit of washing to do; I hope you remembered to bring your dirty panties in.” She said and Jim nodded in reply. “Report to the house as soon as you’ve brushed Morning Dew down; I want it all finished before I head off for the afternoon. The ironing will have to wait until you’ve finished for the day. Oh, while I remember, what size shoes do you wear?”

“Size seven.” Jim replied.

“Good. Make sure you’re at the house by…” Miss Worthing thought for a moment. “… nine thirty.”

As Miss Worthing returned to the house Jim led Morning Dew to her stall and brushed her down. Then the first of the girls arrived and he was rushed off his feet tending to their needs. However he still managed to be ready for nine-thirty and, with a few minutes to spare he was at the back door next to the wood-box. He was a little nervous getting undressed with all the girls around but the back garden was private so, as quick as he could, he stripped off, knocked on the back door and went in.

“Ah, there you are.” Miss Worthing glanced up at the clock on the kitchen wall. “And it would seem that you’ve finally learnt to be punctual. Now put this on.” She reached behind the broom cupboard door and fetched out an apron in white cotton with a decorative frill around the edge. “You’re to wear this whenever you’re doing housework; furthermore, whenever you’re wearing it, you will be required to curtsey. It will help you remember your place. Try it on and show me.”

Jim put on the apron, tying it off with a bow in the middle of his back. Then he turned to Miss Worthing and gave a little bob; his rather poor effort at a curtsey. Miss Worthing laughed and showed him how, making him do it several times before she was satisfied. Then she led him through to the utility room which was jut off the kitchen. A laundry basket lay on the floor full of fine female underwear.

“You’ll find washing powder under the sink.” She said. “Use warm water only, these are delicate and costly and should be treated as such. Once they’re done you can hang them on the line in the back garden to dry. The ironing will have to wait until after work; you’d best let your mother know you’ll be late for supper; in fact, I’ll feed you. OK?”

“Yes, Miss Worthing” Jim replied rather taken aback by the barrage of instructions.

“Get on with it then.” And with that Miss Worthing turned and left.

Jim ran the hot tap for a while and then filled the sink before adding the washing powder and stirring up a good lather. There was something sensuous about handling the delicate, lacy undies, something that emphasised that, much as Miss Worthing was normally dressed in riding gear underneath was a very desirable woman, one who wore sexy underwear, one for whom only the best would do. The dressing gowns and chemises took rather more work but it wasn’t long before he had finished and he could move on to his own panties. Then he took the whole lot out and hung them on the line to dry.

Once finished he cleared up the utility room, put away his apron and got dressed before returning to the stables. He found Miss Worthing helping one of the younger girls sort out her pony’s bridle and was struck by the difference. The harsh and demanding Mistress that he saw was showing a very different, caring side as she patiently helped the youngster sort out the tangled knot of leather strapping.

“Ah, there you are. All finished?” She said, looking up. “Perhaps you could help Miss Tomkins with her bridle; I need to be getting on. I’ll be away from the stables for the rest of the day, you’re in charge.”

“Yes, Miss Worthing” Jim took the tangled bridle from Miss Worthing and settled down to sort out the mess. From then on he was busy but as he crossed the yard he saw Miss Worthing leaving in her vintage Lotus Élan looking as gorgeous as ever.

It was nigh on six and he had all but finished for the day when he heard the unmistakable sound of the Élan's  exhaust heralding her return. He hurried away the last of the girls and shortly after six he was stripped down to his panties and knocking at the back door.

Miss Worthing led Jim through to the utility room and showed him where the ironing board was kept, how to set the iron to the coolest setting, and where to find hangers for those items which could be hung up. Then, reminding him to wear his apron, she left him to it.

At first Jim was all fingers and thumbs. He’s never used an iron before and he seemed to be ironing in more creases than he was removing but, gradually, he got used to it and as the pile of perfect panties grew there was an inner satisfaction, not just in a job well done, but also in that, by caring for her intimate garments he was, in a way caring for her. His penis stirred in its cage at the thought; who’d have believed he could get aroused by doing the ironing. All the while Miss Worthing was cooking in the kitchen where she could keep an eye on him and, when he hung up the final dressing gown, she came over and checked his work.

“Not too bad.” She said. “But there’s a crease here… and here.” She pointed at one of the dressing gowns. “I expect better than that from my staff but I’m in a good mood so I’ll let you off for today.”

“Thank you, Miss Worthing.” Jim said with relief.

“Now come and eat. After supper I’ve got a treat for you.” She led Jim into the kitchen where she had made meal of poached salmon, new potatoes and peas. She had laid two places at the kitchen table and she sat down at one and motioned Jim to sit at the other. He gave a quick bob of a curtsey and took his place. Miss Worthing saw his nervousness.

“Don’t worry.” She said, laughing. “Life’s too short to be formal all the time. I can still  relax and enjoy a meal with my staff; I’m sure you apron will help you remember who’s boss around here. Now, dig in.”

“Yes, Miss Worthing.” Jim replied and started in on the food.

Once they had finished and Jim had done the washing up he took off the apron and Miss Worthing took him through to the lounge. Jim’s heart raced wondering what sort of games they were going to play. She sat down on the sofa next to a cardboard box and Jim stood in front of her.

“I’ve been to my pony outfitters this afternoon. You’re in luck, there’s normally a two week delivery time but they happened to have a pair of boots in your size. Shall we try them on?”

“Yes, Miss Worthing.” Jim knew an order when he heard on. Miss Worthing opened the box and fetched out the pair of boots and, leaning forward, helped Jim put them on. With a sense of relief he found that most of the discomfort from the other pair was because they had been the wrong size. These ones came nearly to his knee and as Miss Worthing tightened the lacing he felt his ankle and calves being embraced by the leather so that the boot almost became part of him and, although it was strange to be forced onto tip-toe, his whole weight wasn’t squeezing his toes into the boot and, once they were both on they were really quite comfortable.

“Try them out.” Miss Worthing urged. “March up and down for a bit.”

Jim went up and down the length of the lounge remembering the gait Miss Worthing had taught him and lifting his knees. Miss Worthing studied him from the sofa.

“Good. They look fine. Now let’s try the tail.” She looked at Jim whose face dropped. “Come on, don’t be like that; you’ve been good so far, don’t let the side down now; slip off your panties and bend over the table.”

Jim did as he was told as Miss Worthing fetched a new tail from the box which had held the boots. She spent some time with some lubricant before coming up behind Jim and putting her hand on the small of his back.

“It’s best if you just relax.” She explained as she gently but firmly pushed the pointed end of the plug against his sphincter. Although it was far from comfortable it wasn’t anything like as bad as when Amanda had forced it into him and the more she eased it in the more the pain became mixed with pleasure. When it was fully in his sphincter locked around the plug which held a stiff rubber fitment which ran between his buttock cheeks so that the ‘tail’ part appeared to come from the base of his spine.

“OK, stand up straight and show me your gait again.” Miss Worthing ordered.

This time the plug in his bottom made Jim tread more carefully, taking more care over his steps and he could see how it improved his gait. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of himself in the mirror and he didn’t look anything like as ridiculous as he felt. This in turn spurred him on to stand straighter, walk taller.

“Very good. Very good for a beginner.” Miss Worthing praised him which made him glow inside. “But that’s enough for tonight and more than enough wear on my carpet. From now on we’ll be practicing regularly in the barn. You’ll be staying late every night; I want you perfect for the sixteenth. Understood.”

“Yes, Miss Worthing.” Jim replied wondering what was so special about the sixteenth.

“OK, let’s get you out of those things and then you can go.”

“But… but…” started Jim before stopping himself realising that suggesting that he was expecting sex would be a bad move.

“But nothing.” Miss Worthing said firmly as she bent him over the table and removed the tail. She then helped him off with the boots and led him to the back door. Jim’s crestfallen face made her smile inside.

“Training is over for tonight.” She said as she gave him a peck on the cheek. “But there will be plenty more before we’ve finished and who knows, maybe tomorrow, if you’re a good little pony…” She left the suggestion hanging.

“Good night, stable boy.” She closed the door behind him.