The lady de Light strode into the stables with all the assurance of the lady of the manor, which she was.

She was a tall woman, with a beautiful mane of ebon black hair, tanned skin and deep green eyes. Her face was dainty, elfin. She stepped hesitantly into the dark, sweet-smelling stable, unsure of what to expect.

Suddenly her arms were seized and pulled behind her back. "You could scream, my lady," was whispered in her ear. "But no one would hear you."

Lady de Light did not. "What are you goin to do to me?" she asked softly.

"That's what you;re about to find out," he chuckled. With nimble fingers he unfastened her dress and it fell away to pool around her feet, leaving her clad in no more than her lace stockings and high-heeled shoes.

De Light shivered as the cool air brushed across her naked skin, then gasped when he clasped his hands to her breasts; he kneaded them, loving the feeling of her soft flesh beneath his rough hands.

He ran his hands down her sides to her wasp waist, resting his hands on her hips before slowlt easing them down between her legs. De Light moaned softly as his calloused fingers ran across her soft slit.

He pilled her hands together in the small of her back and wrapped a strap around her wrists, tightening it until she whimpered. "Open your mouth," he ordered in a tone that brooked no disobedience.

De Light submissively opened her mouth and he inserted a bit, then held it there while he wrapped the rest oif the bridle around her head, tightened the straps and buckled it shut. She chewed at the bit, tasting the cold iron with her tongue.

He took a cloth and wrapped it across her eyes for a blindfold; de Light mumbled something in protest which he ignored. She felt him take up the reins. "Walk," he commanded.

She hesitated so he snapped a crop across her tight ass. With a cry of pain, de Light stumbled forward, trusting blindly yo his firm grip on the reins.

He guided her about the stable, tripping and stumbling in her high heels on the loose hay, then out into the yard.

Lady de Light felt the warm sunlight on her bare skin and balked in the open doorway, crying in protest, but hse showed no mercy. "Move!" he snapped, whipping her again. Crying. de Light stumbled out, blindly praying that there was no one to see her humiliation.

He led her top a hitching post then tied her to it and wrapped her in his arms, putting one hand on her breast and the other between her legs, finding her already wet with arousal. De Light shivered, fear and humiliation somehow adding fuel to the heat of her passion.

He stroked her clit while murmuring nonsense in her ear like to a frightened horse. De Light moaned, fairly knickering with pleasure. She shivered again as he pinched and squeezed her breast, his other fingers driving deeper and deeper into her pussy; she shuddered against his broad chest, her pleasure reaching a crescendo.

Then he pulled away from de Light, leaving her shuddering on the brink of orgasm. 'Nnnn!" she cried desperately, stamping her heel.

"Oh, but your ladyship," he laughed. "It would be wrong for one such as I to do that to one such as you!"

"Nnn!" she pleaded, shaking her head.

"Of course, if you want to do it to yourself," he added, taking her around her narrow waist and guiding her to the low post: it brushed against her pussy, making deLight squeal. He released her and stepped back.

Slowly at first, shge brushed her pussy against the tip of the low post, then she careefully spread her legs and lowered herself onto it. She moaned as the heavy wooden shaft pressed into her, stretching her pussy around it, making her cry with pleasure.

She raised herself until she nearly came off the post, then dove back onto it, moving faster and faster, her cries rising as she drove herself back toward the brink of orgasm.

He turned and strode away. "I'll leave you to it then," she heard his receding voice. "But don;t worry, I'll let you out before your husband returns. Maybe," he added with a laugh as she came with a scream.

A true mare was the lady de Light, no? Very like the famous ponygirls of Haristra, to which there came a traveler one day- but that tale must wait until my eyes are less heavy and my purse less light.