Del thought it was extremely strange to have been doing those things to Sharon while Spot and Penny watched. It was hard enough in the plain day to day to know what Penny thought. With Spot it didn't really matter because she was a dog, but Penny wasn't quite a pony yet. Not by a long way.

And if the mind of Penny was obscure, then Sharon was a steel wall he never thought he would pass through.

Obviously bored. Obviously enjoying this bit of slumming. Obviously something — maybe intrigued. Maybe she was pretending she was intrigued for some reason he could never fathom.

Her fingers played with the hairs on his chest. Both Spot and Penny knelt a few feet away facing them.

Sharon looked great in tan. That was the perfect color, only last night that thing she wore was deepest purple, purple so dark it was black. That was the perfect color too. Sharon looked unbelievably fantastic out of tan (or deepest purple in the darkest shadows of the Colonel's yard).

"We should go back soon, miss," he said.

She slapped his chest and rolled away from him.

He glanced over at Spot who grinned at him. He sat up, searched for his clothes. They were scattered all over the place. He put on his jeans; going past Penny he touched her shoulder. He sat on the grass and put on his socks and boots.

He looked across the clearing at the large trees that surrounded him. The grass was littered with twigs and leaves. Summer was almost over. Things were turning brown. He got up, walked to the buggy and carried the picnic baskets to where Sharon lay. He opened the wine, filled two glasses. He poured water into dishes for Penny and Spot and set out Penny's apple slices.

Spot went to her water and noisily drank. Her tattooed back was fascinating to watch. Penny ignored him, the water and apples.

Sharon had curled upon herself. He placed a wineglass by her head, returned to the baskets and brought out their meal. He broke part of his into clumps and placed the food on a bit of scrap paper for Spot.

"Miss," he said.

"You can be so aggravating," she said.

"Sorry, miss."

She sat up, drained her glass of wine, and handed him the glass to pour another. "Before we leave I want to see you . . . whatever. With one of those." She pointed to Spot and Penny.

He shook his head. The food on his plate looked cold and dead.

"Oh, I think you will."

Fractious popped into his head. He wanted to be home, to have a night with Marge. He wanted to be sane.

"Spot, fetch the crop," he said. He put the plate on the grass. He sipped the wine — it was too acid for him. He poured a glass of water.

He could hear Spot flounder about in the buggy. "Here. I'll get it," he said.

"Ron always speaks so well of you." She turned her body toward him. "I wonder why?"

"I wonder why, too, miss." He stood, went to the buggy. He reached past Spot, picked up the leather crop and tapped Spot's butt with it lightly. "Back with us, Spot," he said.

He stood behind Penny, touched the back of her head. Her fuzz was dry now. Earlier, when he took off the bridle it had been wet with sweat. He pushed her lightly. "All fours," he said.

Spot knelt by them.

He raised the crop high then abruptly swung it, slowly, until it hit Penny's ass. He brought the crop back slowly to prepare it to fall. "Come here," he said to Sharon. "Yes, you." He swung the crop slowly, hit Penny, and raised the crop. "All fours like Penny."

He used the crop to touch Penny's body, traced her skin from head to toe. "You too, Spot." He touched Penny's back with his fingers. "Both of you nose to nose with Penny."

He left Penny's side and stood away from them watching the three of them. "Miss, you asked if I have a particular affection for beasts. I can't tell the difference from here. Not now, Spot."

He stood behind Sharon, touched her rear with the crop. He swung it hard. She yelped, twisted away from him, prepared to jump up, relaxed on the grass, knees up by her face, hands behind her. He smiled at her, went and picked up her clothing, dumped it in a picnic basket and carried the basket to the buggy. He carried back rope, dropped it at her feet.

"Don't you ever do that again, Del. I mean it."

"Miss." He left her, picked up his shirt and put it on. He returned with her glass of wine. He handed it to her, stepped back. "Finish it."

She smiled up at him, lowered her legs, finished the glass then threw the empty glass at him. "You wouldn't dare, Del."

"Dare what, miss?"

She began to stand.

"Kneel."

She pushed off from the grass with her fingers, stood.

He gripped both fists, pushed them behind her back, and held her wrists with one hand. He pushed down. "Kneel."

She shook her head, tried to turn away when he kissed her. She kicked out; he let go of her hands, stepped back. "Miss. We should be going back."

"I want to watch you fuck the dog, Del."

"Miss, I quit at six tonight. If I don't leave until seven, that's all right. Happens all the time."

"The dog, Del."

"But tonight I'm going home and Marge and I will relax for a while before going to bed."

"Marge one too?"

"Miss," Del said. He swung the crop. She tried to protect her thighs with her hands, bent and twisted with her hands out. He stopped the motion of the blow, slid the crop past her and tapped her rear.

Sharon flung herself at him; he dropped her, held her to the ground. She twisted and fought as he sat on her, holding her hands above her head.

"Bring me the bridle, Spot," he said.

He wrapped her wrists with the rope. She relaxed, lay still under him. He climbed off her, lifted her by her arm to kneel. "Lower your hands," he said. "You'll learn."

She didn't speak. Her eyes had a little of Star's fire, her nostrils flared, her cheeks were red.

Spot dropped the bridle at his feet.

"Open," he said. "Wider." He set the bit in Sharon's mouth, drew the bridle over her head and fastened it. Del went behind her, pushed her head forward. "All fours," he said.

She resisted for a moment then fell to her hands.

He picked up the crop and gave her five medium blows.

She started to stand; he pushed her down, knelt beside her, holding the bridle as she tried to pull away. "Miss, we wouldn't be here if you weren't interested, didn't want to know what it felt like even if you want to pretend different. Spot is better trained, Penny is much more than halfway there and you're just starting out. Nod for yes, shake your head for no." He waited, releasing her bridle.

She nodded slowly.

"Miss. You want me to fuck Spot?"

She didn't move for a moment, then shook her head.

"Penny?"

Sharon shook her head no. She looked at him, then dropped her gaze.

"Spot?" He touched Sharon's back with the crop.

She froze.

"Penny?" He drew the crop across her stomach and over her breasts.

She nodded, gasped as he explored her cunt with his fingers.

"Did you want to be an animal, miss? A dog, maybe a pony?"

She tried to speak, turned to look at him over her shoulder.

"Or maybe just a human girl. Is that what you want to be?"

She didn't move her head.

"Maybe I should tie you to the bench we passed by the bridle path. Just leave you."

She shook her head.

"Or I can harness you to the buggy and you can take us home."

She shook her head so hard her whole body shook.

"There is a post in the corral I chain my charges to. While they are there anyone can use them in any way they wish."

She shook her head, mumbled around her bit.

"I can leave you tied up at the Colonel's. I think he'd appreciate the joke."

She didn't move.

He stood, kicked off his boots, pushed down his jeans. He pulled on the bridle. "Kneel."

She pushed off the ground with her tied hands, fell back onto her legs. She slowly knelt. Her eyes questioned him.

"You are going to pull the buggy to the stable. If you are good I'll chain you to the post. If you are bad I'll chain you to the post. I'll leave a note at the Colonel's telling where he can find you."

She shook her head slowly back and forth.

He picked up the crop, touched her breasts with it, and tapped under her chin. "I'll mark you first so he'll know how you've been used by me." He struck a breast.

She fell backwards; he lay on top of her. "Maybe you are the beast I'm to fuck, miss."

She relaxed. Her eyes stared at him.

He climbed off. "Penny," he said.

He fucked Penny while Penny was on her hands and knees over Sharon. He pulled out of Penny and finished on Sharon's face and chest.

Sharon stared at him when he stood over her. Her eyes were dark and deep. She swallowed, the bit moved in her mouth. She blinked and looked away, her bound hands shifted nervously.

Del took Penny's arm and led her to the buggy. Penny was fluid in her motions, supple. He harnessed her, taking care to get the straps right. She stood erect between the buggy poles, not looking at him.

He picked up Penny's tail from where it lay by Sharon and brought it back to Penny, placing the plug end between her teeth.

He let Spot finish cleaning Sharon and then took Spot to the buggy and tied her behind it. He returned to Sharon and stood looking down. "Figure out what you are, miss?"

She tried to speak, shook her head.

He pulled her up, led her to the buggy. "Two feet or four feet? Two feet?"

She shook her head, dropped to her knees, staring up at him, holding out her tied hands.

He untied her hands, used the rope to tie her bridle to the back of the buggy. Spot rubbed against her. Sharon looked up at him, her eyes large and moist.

Sharon's chest and face were shiny with slowly drying wet; partly him, partly Spot, partly her drool. He smiled at her and left the three girls. He picked up the mess in the clearing, dropped everything in the basket, and carried the crop with him to the buggy seat.

He clipped the reins to Penny's collar, got in the buggy and gave the reins a snap. Penny pulled the buggy until he stopped it before entering the path. He set down the reins, turned to Sharon. "I'd like to take you down to the stable. We need a stable dog." Spot gave a bark. "I can promise you that every day I'll be one of them who uses you." Spot licked Sharon's face.

"Your choice when we drop off Spot at the Colonel's. I'm serious, Sharon." He turned back to Penny who was watching them over her shoulder. He gave the reins a snap.

It was a nice drive to the Colonel's. They went slowly, didn't meet anyone.

He stopped the cart, got out and untied Spot. He took Spot to the doghouse and clipped on the chain. He got the picnic baskets from the buggy and carried them to Spot's doghouse. He put the people food that he didn't think would upset her system in Spot's bowl, carried the baskets to the front porch. He scratched Spot's ear, told her, "Good girl," and went back to the buggy.

Sharon knelt.

"The stable?"

She looked at him, her eyes pleading. She shook her head and started to cry.

"There, there," he said, untying her. "You're a good girl." He led her to the front porch. "Kneel."

She dropped to her knees making a long sound around the bit repeatedly like she was begging. She gave up, reached to remove the bridle.

He knocked her hands away. "That's not for you to remove." He knelt, cupping her chin. "Whether we go out tomorrow is up to you. You can tell me what you want, but you can't tell me what to do." He released her chin, rose and gave the knocker a loud rap. When the housekeeper answered the door he told her, "The missus suffered an accident. My apologies to the Colonel." He left the porch, drawing his fingers across Sharon's shoulder past the hand that was reaching up to hold him.

He got into the buggy, gave the reins a snap and let Penny take an easy pace to the stable. It was late enough so that there weren't many around.

He put up the buggy in the wagon shed, hung up the harness after cleaning it. Penny stood outside the big doors facing the corral, tail in her mouth.

Del led Penny to the stable, his crop in his other hand. He was famished. Penny must be famished.

The stall was empty which he more or less expected. It wasn't fair to Star and he wasn't sure it had been an equal trade.

"Drop it and kneel," he said.

He left the tail on the bench and went to the bunkhouse to get Penny's dinner. He brought back pails for her and Star and filled their troughs.

Penny was a mess. Dusty, dirty, her shoes falling apart, unkempt fuzz on her head. He brushed her and that was all. Washing her this late didn't make any sense.

He sat on the bench and watched her eat. He told her she had done well, both she and Star had done well, and that she was a good girl.

It was dark out the north window. When Penny was done he made her kneel on the blanket. He knelt by her. "Tell Star what I said. Quietly." He touched her shoulder. "Sleep well. I'll be here early to wash and get you ready for Saturday."

Penny dropped her head, she turned her head sideways so her eye watched him.

He patted her arm, left the stall, thought for a moment, and went back. He erased the thing about Star needing practice and started his list.

"Shoes.

"Wash them.

"New bridle, clean tail."

He left her. She was already curled on the floor. He saw that Misty was gone. Benjamin had a new charge. He checked the clipboard. Natalie. A pretty one. He left the stable. He'd miss Misty. If she'd been his he would have worked her a lot harder for a lot longer.

He was pissed as hell at them this morning and now he missed them both. He saw buggy lights approach, stepped out of the way. Debbie pulling someone, not John. An owner, he guessed.

He started the Dodge, waited for a moment, and backed her out. He liked old trucks because they were substantial but felt almost as light as air compared to the newer trucks.

He got a sandwich on the way home, was dying for a beer but he was too tired tonight until he was home. He pulled into his drive; only two lights were on in the whole house. Marge was waiting up for him in their bedroom and there was a light on in the kitchen.

He got himself a beer from the refrigerator, twisted off the cap and took a drink. It tasted so good he almost finished it in one gulp.

He left his boots in the kitchen and walked quietly back to the bedroom. Marge was sitting up in bed reading, looked beautiful. "You look beautiful."

She peered at him above her reading glasses, laid the book down on its open pages. "Hard day?"

He wasn't sure if it was hard or not. He was plain exhausted but it wasn't the fatigue of working in a mine shoveling coal all day. "So so." He sat on the bed by her feet.

Marge put her bookmark in, closed the book and set it by the lamp.

"What's the alarm set for?"

"Six."

"It had better be five." He stood. "Back in a minute."

"Take your time." Marge smiled at him.

He finished in the bathroom, put the empty beer bottle in the trash basket and went back to the bedroom.

He undressed, placing all his clothes in the hamper. Marge held the covers open for him; the sheets felt marvelous and cool and soft. Not as soft as woman flesh but just as inviting.

Marge took off her glasses and they kissed. She left the light on. They liked to watch each other when making love.

Del relaxed half on, half off her, enjoyed the way she felt.

After a few minutes she became aggressive, rolling over him, looking down at him. He felt her lick a line from his chin to his navel. He was afraid if he shut his eyes he'd fall asleep. He couldn't entirely suppress the images that flooded his mind. Of the way Sharon looked last night in that impossible dress. Of Spot. Of orifices and tits and smooth skin over muscled bodies. Of heat and moisture and Sharon's eyes this evening.

He held the wrought headboard and arched his back as Marge used her throat on his cock, moving incredibly rapidly, joining this minute with past moments. Everything all jumbled up in one sensation.

He fell asleep just seconds after coming.