Sheila sighed heavily as she closed the cash register drawer. It had been a long week at the shop -- 12-hour shifts for the past five days – but she desperately needed to keep this job. She received a reasonable salary and the overtime pay was helping her climb out of credit card debt. She also liked her boss, Mrs. Carlisle, who had been gradually giving her more responsibility for managing the equestrian shop.
One Saturday afternoon, Mrs. Carlisle had even closed the shop early and invited Sheila to her farm to go horseback riding. Sheila rode Ebony, a jet-black mare with a gentle nature and a graceful gait. Mrs. Carlisle, however, commanded Star, a spirited chestnut Thoroughbred whose name came from the star-shaped white mark on his forehead. The two women had raced across the countryside, feeling as free and wild as the wind. Sheila urged her horse to keep pace with Mrs. Carlisle's, but she was no match for the powerful steed that the older woman rode. Sheila admired the sight of Mrs. Carlisle -- her auburn tresses flowing freely in the breeze and her lithe body rising and falling in rhythm with her horse's galloping pace. Mrs. Carlisle was 20 years older than Sheila, but she possessed boundless energy and a youthful countenance that belied her age.
After that afternoon, Sheila felt a special bond with her employer. She developed enormous respect for the woman who controlled a powerful Thoroughbred with the same style and grace as she displayed in the presence of difficult customers or her pesky ex-husband. Sheila was impressed when Mrs. Carlisle verbally chastised a supplier who tried to sell her inferior goods, and was awed when her employer physically apprehended a teenage shoplifter as he tried to slip out the door.
Sheila glanced at her watch. In another 15 minutes, she could close the shop and go home. At that moment, a customer walked in the door, glanced about the store and then headed toward the counter. The tall, slender woman was dressed in white jodhpurs, a dark turtleneck and a wool blazer. She wore black riding boots and matching gloves. Her long, black hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her face was as tan as leather. She looked at Sheila curiously as she approached.
"Where is Mrs. Carlisle?"
"She's in the back," answered Sheila. "Is there anything I can help you with?"
"Perhaps, you can," said the young woman pleasantly. "I had placed an order for a new bridle two weeks ago and it was supposed to arrive today. I'm leaving tomorrow for a horse show in Virginia, and the bridle's for the horse I'm riding in the jumper competition."
Sheila pulled out the shipment book from underneath the counter. "What's your name?"
"Rachel York." As Sheila paged through the order forms, she sensed Rachel leaning closer toward her. She felt herself becoming more flustered as she flipped through the last of the order forms without seeing the one for the new bridle. When Sheila looked up, Rachel's face was only a few inches from hers.
"I'm also looking for a new riding crop," said the woman as she stared coolly into Sheila's widening brown eyes.
Sheila suddenly felt lightheaded and had to lean against the counter for support. She nervously brushed a wisp of blonde hair from her face and hoped that the sudden flush in her cheeks was not apparent. At that moment, Mrs. Carlisle emerged from the back office and seemed genuinely delighted to see Rachel. They hugged and chatted briefly about the upcoming show while Sheila continued looking for the shipment order. Finally, Mrs. Carlisle noticed Sheila's distress.
"Ms. York's order isn't in there. I keep a personal record in my office of custom supplies for loyal customers like Ms. York." Sheila breathed a noticeable sigh of relief and quickly closed the shipment book.
"Ms. York and I will be in my office. Please join us there after you close the shop."
Sheila hung the 'Closed' sign in the window, locked the front door and then brought the day's receipts and cash drawer intake back to Mrs. Carlisle's office. Both women were waiting for her there. Mrs. Carlisle locked the money and receipts in the safe and then asked Rachel and Sheila to follow her. Sheila assumed they were going to the stock room to find Rachel's bridle, but instead Mrs. Carlisle motioned for them to follow her to a room across the hall. Sheila had never been in the room because the door was always locked, and Mrs. Carlisle had told her she stored personal belongings there.
Mrs. Carlisle unlocked the door and guided Sheila into the unlit room as Rachel followed. When she turned on the light, Sheila first thought she was in another stock room. A dozen riding crops were mounted on a wooden rack on the wall directly in front of her. Brushes and other grooming supplies were stored on shelves alongside bridles and blinders. And there were whips hanging from the wall -- everything from leather quirts and short, horsehair whips to buggy whips and a menacing-looking bull whip. None of this surprised Sheila except that the harnesses looked too small for horses.
However, her heart leapt into her throat when she saw the paddles. Paddles of different lengths and thicknesses, some made of leather, others of wood, hanging from hooks in perfectly straight rows along the wall. They were even organized according to colour - some black, some brown, one was fire-engine red and another a cool, turquoise blue.
As Sheila willed her gaze away from the paddles, her eyes fell upon the object in the
middle of the room. It looked like a pommel horse, but it was about the height of a coffee table and covered in a rich, brown suede. Two padded handles protruded from the sides. A narrow cushioned shelf, about three feet long, was mounted on either side of the "horse," behind the handles. Sheila could not stop staring at it until Mrs. Carlisle placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her gently toward her.
"I hired you because I thought you possessed special talents. Now it's time to display those talents." Sheila looked at her employer in bewilderment, but Mrs. Carlisle simply ordered her to remove her clothes.
"I'm your boss now," she said sternly. "Do as I say."
Sheila turned to Rachel, who was now standing by the mounted crops and tapping one impatiently in her hand. Her expression turned foreboding as she spoke.
"Sheila, I understand that you lost your last job because you did not follow your supervisor's instructions. You don't want to disappoint two different employers in one month." Rachel's rebuke filled her with shame as she nervously unbuttoned her Oxford shirt and slipped it off her shoulders. She knew the two women could see her erect nipples pressing against the cotton fabric of her bra. When she bent over to remove her shoes and socks, she could hear Rachel tapping the crop against her boot. Sheila felt her stomach turning into a knot as tight as the braided leather in Rachel's hand.
After Sheila had undressed, Mrs. Carlisle ordered her to "mount the horse." When she hesitated, the older woman gently pushed her toward the middle of the room.
"Kneel down, grab the handles and then rest your knees on the cushions," she instructed. Sheila obeyed, positioning herself on all fours across the horse, her nipples brushing against the rough fabric and her thighs squeezing tightly against its sides. She heard Rachel's footsteps as she walked toward her, then felt electricity dance across her skin as Rachel laid a gloved hand on her bare bottom. Mrs. Carlisle stepped in front of Sheila and lifted up her chin.
"Because Ms. York is one of my most valued customers, I allow her to try out the merchandise before she purchases it." Rachel began to slowly caress Sheila's right cheek, causing the kneeling woman to inhale in quick, uneven breaths.
"Today, she's in the market for a new crop," Mrs. Carlisle explained dispassionately while Rachel teased Sheila's swollen lips with the tip of the crop. Sheila shivered and moaned as the whip made its slow passage back and forth between her anus and clitoris.
"Since Ms. York has a big competition next week, it's important that she has the best equipment. Don't you agree, Sheila?" Rachel tapped the crop gently against the inside of Sheila's left thigh, as if prompting her to answer. Sheila nodded and Mrs. Carlisle dropped her hand from the young woman's chin.
"I'm glad that you understand," she said pleasantly, "and that you're so willing to be of assistance to my favourite customer."
The crop lashed against Sheila's bottom with unexpected intensity, causing her to cry out in astonishment and pain. The whip hissed again through the air, landing a little lower than the first strike and searing a stripe of fire across Sheila's skin. She gritted her teeth in preparation for the next blow, breathing harshly through her nostrils like an excited horse. As the crop connected with her right thigh, she heard the snap of leather against skin and felt pain explode down the back of her leg. Again a tormented moan escaped her lips.
After Rachel had delivered several quick strokes, she paused to admire her handiwork. Five thin red lines clearly marked the pale skin. Sheila felt like she had been struck by lightening, momentarily transformed by a powerful burst of heat and energy. Rachel, however, seemed disinterested in Sheila's physical or mental state at that moment. She tapped the whip methodically against her palm, as if measuring its weight and flexibility, then said dryly, "I think this one is too light. My horse, Hitchcock, won't even notice it on his flank."
Without a word, Mrs. Carlisle strode briskly across the room and chose another crop from the rack. "Try this one, my dear," she said as she handed the new crop to Rachel. "The leather is braided more tightly and it's a little thicker than the other one."
"Thank you," answered Rachel cheerfully.
Although Sheila was not bound, she did not release the handles nor rise from her position. She knew she was going to be thrashed again, but she only wanted to please these two women who humbled her with their grace and power. Rachel began to whip her again, the blows delivering both anguish and arousal as they fell in an even rhythm across her buttocks and thighs. Sheila moaned and cried as the torrent of pain rained down on her exposed bottom. She wiggled her hips and arched her back in a futile effort to protect the sorest parts of her backside from the relentless punishment. Rachel toyed with Sheila, striking her in the same spot over and over, then delivering a series of rapid strokes all over her buttocks and thighs that left Sheila breathless and sobbing. Rachel paused to let the woman recompose herself, then finished the cropping with a dozen strokes that came in agonizingly slow intervals.
"I think this is the one," Rachel said breathlessly to Mrs. Carlisle, who had watched the entire scene from a prime vantage point right behind Rachel.
"Excellent, Ms. York. I'll have Sheila bring both the crop and the bridle out to your car. If you perform as well in the show next week as you have this evening, I'm sure the judges will award you first place." Rachel accepted the compliment with a smile and a gracious thank you.
Fire raged across Sheila's bottom and the backs of her legs. A thin sheen of perspiration covered her body. Her shoulders and hands were tired and achy from holding up her body weight, and her tear-streaked face felt swollen and hot. The conversation between the two women floated hazily through Sheila's consciousness.
"Get up, my dear," Mrs. Carlisle ordered. "You have performed your duties well this evening." Sheila rose slowly from the bench, then gently rubbed her swollen buttocks.
Rachel smiled at her with smug satisfaction. "Yes, you have performed quite well, but it's time now for me to take my leave."
Mrs. Carlisle turned to Sheila. "Get Ms. York's new bridle from the rack in my office."
Sheila glanced about the room for her clothes, but Mrs. Carlisle noticed her wandering gaze. "Go now, girl, before I turn you over my knee and use one of those paddles on you."
Rachel chuckled. "I'd enjoy watching that." Sheila blushed as she scurried out the door and across the hall to Mrs. Carlisle's office. She could hear the two women talking to each other and suspected she was the topic of their conversation. As the heat and soreness of her buttocks subsided, the ache between her legs intensified. She reached down and touched her wetness. "Yes, working here does have its advantages," she thought wryly.
When Sheila returned to the room with the bridle, Rachel and Mrs. Carlisle were still chatting casually. Rachel turned to Sheila as she entered. "Mrs. Carlisle tells me you're quite an equestrian. Perhaps, you and I could go riding together one afternoon."
Sheila blushed and stammered her reply, "Yes, . . . yes. . .I think I'd … um like that very much."
"Then I'd like to see your riding form this evening," answered Rachel devilishly. Sheila looked at her puzzled. "Get back on the horse." Sheila's face registered shock and fear at the thought of another whipping. "No, I'm not going to whip you again. I'm going to ride you."
Sheila hung the bridle on a hook near the door, then obediently remounted the suede horse. She could hear Rachel removing her boots then sliding out of her tight-fitting riding pants. Rachel straddled Sheila's hips so that she faced the opposite direction of her "mount." Her fingertips traced the fading red marks on Sheila's well-whipped bottom, causing the punished woman to wince when she touched a particularly sore spot.
Rachel's fingers worked their way across the woman's buttocks and down to her moist crevice. Sheila groaned softly as Rachel parted her swollen pussy lips. Mrs. Carlisle knelt down behind Sheila and began to run her index finger slowly up and down the folds of Sheila's labia. Mrs. Carlisle kissed Rachel passionately on the lips as she massaged Sheila's hard, little kernel of pleasure. Sheila began swaying her hips, trying to press against the elusive fingers bringing her so much delight.
Rachel released from Mrs. Carlisle and murmured. "That's it, baby. Rock those hips. I wanna go for a ride." Sheila arched her back and ground her hips against the suede fabric. The sensation of being pinned down by Rachel's weight while being teased by Mrs. Carlisle's masterful fingers was maddening. Sheila began to moan audibly. She lifted her hips and abdomen off the horse, shifting her weight from side to side, while Mrs. Carlisle ran her fingers up and down her slit. When Mrs. Carlisle suddenly thrust three fingers inside her, Sheila bucked like a rodeo bronco.
Rachel squealed with delight. "That's it girl!"
Mrs. Carlisle continued thrusting into Sheila, who rocked her hips wildly and moaned uncontrollably. She felt Sheila's hands on her sore buttocks, holding onto her for balance as she bucked and gyrated. Rachel was rubbing herself against Sheila's tailbone, bringing herself closer to climax with each frenetic movement. Mrs. Carlisle's fingers left Sheila's warm cavern and began to lavish attention on her swollen clitoris.
Sheila groaned as she felt the orgasm building inside her. The deft strokes across her pleasure spot were driving her closer and closer to the brink. She felt the dizzying heat rage through her body, increase in intensity and then strike her clitoris like a bolt of lightening.
She cried out as she came. The orgasm exploding inside her vagina at the same time that Rachel reached her climax. The two women panted and sighed as the waves of pleasure crashed over them. Mrs. Carlisle was so aroused by the sight of Sheila and Rachel coming simultaneously that she slipped her free hand under her skirt to pleasure herself. Her orgasm came so swiftly and powerfully that her entire body quivered.
When Sheila felt Mrs. Carlisle's fingers trembling inside of her, she came a second time. The three women sighed and moaned as the last contractions subsided
Slowly, Mrs. Carlisle slipped her fingers out of Sheila. Then Rachel rose unsteadily from her position and patted Sheila on the bottom. "Nice form, my dear."
Mrs. Carlisle smiled as she also rose to her feet. "I'm glad you were so pleased with my new employee. When you return from Virginia, perhaps we could go for a ride together again. I believe that Sheila has already expressed her interest in another ride with you."
Sheila nodded her head, now realizing the invitation that Rachel had extended earlier. "Yes, I'd like that very much."