The golden sun slants through the barn windows, dancing in the air thickly scented with the sweet hay and tang of leather. I peel off my jeans and shirt, slowly undo the long black tail of my braid. My hands caress the leather and a quiver runs through me. I stretch a bit, letting my body become warm and flexible before I slowly relax my muscles letting the slick coolness of the anal plug slide into me; I shiver as the attached horses tail slides across my thighs tickling my flesh.

I slip on stockings and then my tall black boots, the ones fitted with metal on the soles for a definite clopping sound as I walk. Just as I finish lacing them on my mistress's shadow falls into the room. I look up – my breathe catching a bit as it always does at the pale sylph like beauty of her, her cap of pale blond silvery blond curls ruffled by the breeze slipping in the open barn door.

She helps me into my snug and hard leather body harness; lacing it tightly enough that imperfect posture is simply not an option. I look down at the proud thrust of my breasts with the stainless rings through the hardened coral tips of my nipples. I get a sense of her playful mood today when she clips little silver bells on each nipple ring.

I shift impatiently from foot to foot feeling the base of my tail shift with in me. A sharp slap to my flanks reminds me that anxiousness will not get me where I wish to be any faster. My mistress fetches my bit and bridle, carefully fitting the bit into my mouth, making sure just the simple wearing of it causes no discomfort. The sharp tang of metal against my tongue warms slowly to body temperature.

I feel so deliciously naked next to her. The soft flannel covering her breasts and the roughness of her jeans on her delicate and small legs. The horses tail catches the breeze tickling my thighs and making me twitch, another smart slap on my flanks and a gentle tug on the bridle brings me back to the absolute stillness she prefers.

She hooks the bridle to my tack, her hands playfully setting the bells on my nipples into a cascade of fairy bells. She tugs on my tail making sure my buttocks are firmly holding the plug in place. She slips a small crop off its hook on the wall and leads me out into the yard for my exercise. The first gentle crack of the crop against my buttocks begins me circling the yard, the bridle being let out slowly as I prance in circles for my mistress. The extra weight of my shoes almost guarantees that my form is not what she would wish.

Increasingly harsher flicks of her crop along my flank reminds me to lift my knees. The hardest stripes fall across my buttocks to remind to keep my back straight or to slow me down or speed me up. When I forget to bounce enough to shake the bells the merciless little crop swings up to sting my hardened nipples, making them torturously aroused. She demands perfection from me, in form, in movement and in sound. The clop of my shoes a deep undertone to the fairy tinkle of the bells.

Soon under the heat of the sun the sweat of my labor mixes with the musk of my desire; I breathe both in with the sweetness of the hay. My mistress knows this and the severity of her small crop increases as the ability of my body drops off. My labors have brought a delicate sheen to her skin and I hope warmth to her blood. Finally- she calls a halt.

I see her tiny sylph-like body trembling with passion and am filled with pride that my performance could drive her to such excitement. She leads me gently to the shady side of the barn. There she gently helps me out of the bit & bridle. She unlaces the heavy leather of the posture corset and an unrestrainable moan of release escapes my lips.

She chuckles at my moan. Her hands playfully tug at my nipples setting the bells tinkling. Knowing well just how tired I am after such a session she gently unlaces my boots, helping me slide them from each foot. Once I am bare except for the horses tail she gets the hose, roughly dousing the dust and sweat from my body.

She giggles as she aims the hose at the rings in my nipples setting the bells fluttering, in mock outrage I oust the hose from her and spray her in return, knowing very well that it will earn me more punishment; which we both want at the moment. However a bit of a delay seems like a good idea, so I dash into the barn.

She chases me into the barn and tumbles into the pile of hay after me, pinning me down. Each stripe her little crop caused is brought to tingling life by the poking scratches of the hay. I wiggle free enough to start to undo her wet flannel shirt, peeling it off to release her small pale pink tipped breasts. Happy that as is her habit she forewent a bra.

I capture one in my mouth; teasing it with my tongue until it thrusts into my mouth. My mouth quickly seeks out her other breast as my fingers try their best to be deft when encountered with the unwieldy wet denim slicked onto her trim little legs. My effort becomes more intense when I realize she forewent panties as well.

Finally with an exasperated sigh she lays back in the hay, letting me peel the denim from her. I waste no time letting my mouth trail down her body to the smooth blushing and hot cleft of her pussy. The delicate bouquet of her passion bursts through my senses, finer to my nose than the best of wines. The rough pink of my tongue slides between the smooth shell pink folds of her flesh, sliding across then dancing around her clitoris.

Her tiny body trembles, my hands slide around to lift her hips and open her more to my plunder. She shudders as I tease and tease, tongue and hands working in a concert of passion played for her alone. I slowly slide fingers into her, making sure the way is slick and heated. Her body trembles as I find that sensitive spot with in her and brush it with my fingers in duet with my tongue thrusting against her clitoris.

The heat of her against my face builds, the slickness under my hand increases, I hear cries breaking through that small perfect mouth of hers. Demands and pleas with equal fervor. As my mouth and hands drive her further from sanity and into the realm of sensation alone. Until finally with a burst of heat and liquidity against my face and hands she finds her release.

Her hands sink into my long black hair, dragging me up to her mouth where we share the taste of her release. Her small hand landing with a crack across my already stinging buttocks reminds me that no matter how much she may have enjoyed it my little uprising will not go unpunished.

She flips me over into the hay, her teeth sinking into the softness of my bottom lip, the beginning of my punishment I am sure. She grinds her pelvis into mine watching my eyes fly open as the anal plug anchoring my tail is thrust deeper into me.

Her sharp little cat like nails trail with intent down my chest, then flick across my already sore nipples, I cry and then subside into moans as she soothes them with the heat of her tongue. Her teeth tease them as well making sure the pain does not abate as the pleasure builds.

Her nails skim down my stomach, just hard enough that they are more pain then amusement, they scrape right down to the very crest of my pussy, then slide down either lip of it, the pressure just enough to make the caress of them painful.

Her sharp little teeth nip their way down my tummy, as her fingers thrust directly into me. The roughness of the invasion makes me cry out even though I was certainly wet enough. She chuckles deep in her throat as she sharply nips first one side of my labia and then the other, before raking her tongue roughly across my tender clitoris.

I smell my own excitement in the air now, her orgasm an aftertaste still on my tongue. She roughly moves her fingers in and out a consensual violation of my tender tissues. Her tongue and teeth a violent reminder that this pleasure is a form of punishment as they work against my clitoris.

The dull throb of the crop's kisses, the needlelike pricks of the hay on my sensitized flesh, the pressure of her on my pelvis driving the anal plug ever deeper into my ass. The sharp cruelty of her mouth against my pussy and her hands plunging into me all coalesce into the screaming assault of my orgasm as it crashes over me. The screams ripped from my throat an animalistic expression of the state I am in.

I collapse into the hay; the sweet smell of it cocoons us. My mistress tugs a blanket off of its hook and wraps it around us both as she curls up next to me. The extra heat of the blanket soothes the aches and stings of my body. In utter contentment I wrap my arms around my small mistress as I drift off into a sated sleep. The last sight before my eyes drift closed is that of her intense gaze watching as I drift away into my nap, I just hope my punishment is over for now.