free, Mandy lunged away from him, managing to surprise him with how hard she’d thrown herself away from him, as if she’d been lying in wait the whole time, but she forgot that he had a hold of the lead to her collar, and she was cruelly brought up short not two feet away from him.
“Damn!” he cursed under his breath. Aaron hated to use a collar as a restraint on a mare. It was method of very last resort as far as he was concerned. There were too many things that could go wrong, and he felt he should have seen her little break for it coming, blaming himself entirely for the way she was choking and coughing and straining at the leather around her neck. An expert at getting a filly – even a reluctant one – into a bridle, he had her buckled and snapped into one in seconds while she was still trying to catch her breath. The collar was removed immediately as soon has he had her reins in his one hand and Aaron’s mouth drew into a grim line as he saw the patch around her neck that was already starting to redden and bruise.
Taking his temper and anger at himself firmly in hand, he latched her reins to one of the multiple hidden toggles in the floor of her stall, right where she was, bringing her head down so far that she had to lay her cheek against the sweet-smelling hay on the floor. One of her legs kicked out aggressively towards him as he moved behind her, and Aaron had to smile to himself. She recovered quickly, his Mandy did. The hobbles were back on but loose enough right now until she found her ankles pulled apart till she felt like a wishbone, then they were attached to bolts into the floor to hold them in place. Her feet were kept so close to the ground that she wouldn’t even be able to drum them when she would want to… later. Her arms were next, which he immobilized with depressing ease, as far as Mandy was concerned. Despite her minor neck problem, she was raring to go and dying to get out of this place. She had nothing to lose in trying to escape. But Aaron simply stood over her with a huge booted foot planted on either side of her waist and looped a thickly padded cuff around her right wrist; knowing she was right handed, he neutralized that one first. Her left hand reached back as he was working on the other one and grabbed a hold of his calf, just above where his boot top, and tried to pinch him, but there wasn’t an inch – there wasn’t a millimeter in his whole body – to pinch.
Frustrated and crying again, as usual, Mandy twisted and writhed and bucked and charged as much as she could until he fastened her left hand and she was rendered pretty much powerless, not that it stopped her from trying to get away. Aaron did what he would always do when a ponygirl rebelled against his authority. He went to the cupboard that was present in each stall in his stables and extracted an implement with which to deal severely with the miscreant.
This time, he chose a shortish, junior cane.
Before Mandy came anywhere near exhausting herself trying to loosen bonds that would never be loosened except at the behest of one of the men who now controlled her, Aaron stepped behind her, saying in a quiet, steady voice, “Attempts to escape will be punished rigorously and without exception.”
The cane rose and fell on her tautly displayed, upturned bottom thirty times without stopping – a fresh stinging welt was added across her hindquarters approximately every three to four seconds in a horridly relentless rhythm. Aaron landed thwack after snap right over the dull bruises from yesterday when he’d given her another demonstration of why she needed to obey her handlers and submit to them. He would never fail to deliver any reminder she might need for the rest of her life, whether it was the first day she was there or the last.
Amanda thought she was going to go crazy from the pain, and the strokes just kept on coming, splitting her skin wide open each one, she was quite sure, but he jut kept whistling that awful thing through the air at her defenseless rear and her muted screaming sobs made no difference to him at all… eight… nine… ten… fifteen… sixteen… twenty-one… twenty five… twenty-seven… he did finally stop at thirty, when she was already senseless from the torture.
Aaron came to crouch down by her head and speak to her, reaching out to lay his hand on her wet cheek, his heart breaking in his own chest from what he had to do to her. “Remember, Mandy, yesterday, when I said we’d have to be extra hard on you? That’s because you’re so smart and so responsive. You should have known better than to try to get out of this stall – not that you ever could have. Do you know how many people would have descended on you immediately? The stables would have been in lockdown well before you found your way to a door. Even if you did happen to get out of the stables, the whole site would have been locked up tighter than a drum – and there are hundreds and hundreds of people who would have dropped everything they were doing to find you. It’s not worth it. Why attempt something that’s going to fail each and every single time, only to end up with you getting your buns blistered like this?
“You’re too smart for this. Do the smart thing and submit and obey. I promise you it’s a pretty damn good life – it’s the best I can make it for you.” He stood and cleared his throat, trailing his fingers at the small of her back. “I said we were going to have to be extra hard on you. And we are. For anyone else in this barn – maybe with one or two exceptions that are just like you are – extra smart and extra stubborn – this would be the end of what was already a pretty harsh punishment.
“But not for you.” His softy spoken words made Amanda’s heart drop into her stomach as she sobbed. She knew she didn’t want to hear what he had to say next. “I want your lesson to really sink in, because I don’t ever want you to do this again. Ever. For the rest of your life I want you to remember this and think twice and then a third time and a fourth time before you decide to make a break for it.”
Aaron took his position to one side of her bottom again, and the cane resumed its terrible song.
Mandy did not remember much of what happened during the second set of thirty strokes beyond her own rapidly hoarsening voice and the tears and the heaving against the restrains to try to relieve the unbelievable torture of that nasty rod as it sliced down into her already tender and swollen flesh. When the sixtieth weal had seared its way across her bottom, Aaron threw the cane out of his hand and came around to release her head and hold it in his lap, smothering her in butterfly kisses and stroking the wet hair out of her eyes.
“I couldn’t sleep, Boss, I – Holy mackerel!” Ted exclaimed as he peered over the top of the stall door and saw the ravaged condition of Mandy’s bottom. “Wha-happened?”
“She tried to get away as I was going to lead her to breakfast. And she got a lesson in not doing that. Check her for me, will you?”
Ted unlatched the automatic lock at the door and came in, carefully closing it behind him.
“I’ll say.” The first thing he did was kneel down behind her and carefully pry her welted cheeks apart. Aaron had been right. Ted caught his eye and nodded. She was soaking wet from that awfully hard punishment.
He stood and retrieved the cane, returning it to its rightful place, then helped Aaron get the sobbing and wailing mare situated on the grooming platform, which luckily wasn’t too far from where she was. No matter what the punishment or how hard it was, a mare’s routine was rarely allowed to be disrupted by it. Technically, breakfast was already over and all the other mares were being groomed, or waiting to be groomed. Mandy’s reins were cross tied so that she could not move her head to either side, or very far up or down. “You wanna use the head stock?” Ted asked.
“Not if we can avoid it – the only thing that stopped her this morning was the collar and she’s already working on a good bruise there. You know how I hate things around their necks. I don’t much like stocks in general,” Aaron frowned as he looked at the already darkening bruise around the slender column of Mandy’s neck.
“I know.” Ted bustled around getting everything ready for her grooming, although he knew that Aaron would want to do the actual session himself. He put a bucket of warm, lilac soaped water where it was within easy reach, with a big loofa already in it, and several very soft purple face cloths along with a big pile of purple and GS crested bath sheets. He put a big dollop of a privately made, very expensive lilac-scented lotion in a warmer, and set out a big wooden paddle brush for her mane along with sterilized nail clippers, a battery operated toothbrush with a breath-freshening, tartar control gel already squirted onto it, along with a pretty lilac clear deodorant and perfumed shampoo and conditioner. The last two things he took out of another of the recessed cupboards in the stall was a bottle of perfume and Mandy’s very own personal rectal thermometer.
Ted grinned. One thing could definitely be said for GS mares – they smelled great – each and every one of them. The Stables had scent layering down pat.
“Got a spoon somewhere in one of the cupboards?” Aaron asked.
“Yup.” Ted tossed one to him and kept one for himself once he saw what Aaron was doing with it.
Mandy could barely stand – which was easily rectified when a well-padded supporting beam about five inches wide – except where it was cut out to account for her breasts – whirred up from the floor to press itself very gently against the center of Mandy’s body from just above her breast bone to just before her pubic bone, providing all the support she needed right now to remain upright on all fours. But she must’ve been hungry – she hadn’t eaten by Aaron’s calculations in about two days. So the groom and the owner of the stables himself spoon fed her. A straw-
