When Mark Fox wasn’t protecting his latest charge assigned to him, he loved to ride horses and women—so much so, he was nicknamed ‘the jockey’ by his friends. This summer evening he was spending at the ancestral home in Hertfordshire, England, was no exception. A quick bracing horse ride with a female family friend moved on to the stable, and now, Mark was bridling Lucy Tate for the ride of her life.
Mark fastened the bridle around Lucy’s head before turning his attention to gently push the bit further into her mouth. A short while ago on their return from their horse ride, Mark had given the two horses to the groom then firmly taken her arm and led her into one of the stalls. Catching her unawares he’d placed his arm under her legs, scooped her slender form up into his arms, and threw her into the big pile of hay in the corner. With a shriek, she tried to sit up, but he pounced as lithe as a panther to pin her down beneath him. Her shocked expression at having found herself so quickly on her back underneath him faded as she looked up into his eyes with lust and a knowing of what was to follow. Mark grinned down at her. Sex was always intense between them but that was all it was. Both were preoccupied with their careers and they only desired sexual gratification. They were simply friends with benefits.
Lucy was one of three beautiful women Mark entertained his strong sexual drive with, but he had never introduced her to the sexual dominance games he loved to play the most. He was a natural dominant and craved a submissive woman to master and if he was honest, baby. If he ever dared to settle down with one woman, the relationship would need to be one of dominant and submissive little. He would not consider it any other way. Mark wondered if there was such a woman out there for him now. They were all hell bent on getting power and wielding it over men in a revenge attack for, in their eyes, having been kept down in the world. He liked to pride himself on not having been one of those men in the world who deserved to get an ass kicking. He had no trouble with powerful women as long as in their personal relationship with him, he was in charge. It was a strange type of feminism he believed in but one he was more than sure he could accommodate with the right woman should she be brave enough to try it in the present social climate.
Today he wanted to ride Lucy like one of the mares in the stable. Mark took hold of both sides of her pretty blue shirt and ripped it apart. Lucy bucked upwards against him, brushing her pussy, clothed in her jodhpurs, against his own sheathed cock and moaning with contentment. He quickly removed the garment and undid her bra. Lifting the cups away from her small but pert breasts up her long arms towards her hands, he expertly used the bra’s cups and straps to restrain her wrists above her head. The need in her eyes strengthened. He’d tied her up during sex before but that was as far as it had gone. Time to experiment.
“Are we going to play, Mark?” she breathed.
A dark smile lit his handsome features as he trailed the tips of his fingers down her cheek then her delicate throat to curve around a breast. He bent his head and sucked the nipple tightly in between his teeth before sweeping his hands down over her flat stomach towards her jodhpurs. He opened them and slipped his hand inside, deliberately making his movements slow and gentle. His intention was to build Lucy’s arousal to the point he could completely dominate her. He reached downwards and cupped her sex. She loved her pussy to be held. Pressing down with his middle finger he inserted it between her already juicy folds and slowly stroked its length exerting enough pressure to make her ache for him to penetrate her, circling the tip of her clit as he did. The touch was light and teasing. He looked down at her always amused by the way she coyly closed her eyes refusing to look up at him when he intimately touched her. She cried out with the loss when he removed his hand and started pulling off her riding boots, her jodhpurs and panties in one go.
Time to get a little rough, he decided, pushing her legs apart to swat his hand carefully but firmly over the dampening V shape nestled at the top of them. She jumped in surprised response, but he was already turning her naked body over on to her front on top of the hay to slap his hand over her bare bottom cheek. He loved the way his slap generated a fresh rosy glow to her delicate skin and repeated the action. He waited a second, a grin sweeping his face after she’d yelped with the force he used, expecting her to complain. When she didn’t, he continued.
“I have been waiting for the opportunity to spank you like a naughty little girl for jumping that dangerous hedge today.” His voice was playful but there was no mistaking that he meant it. He circled his fingers around her blushed flesh admiring the colour. “You aren’t as competent a rider as I am yet. You took a chance…”
“Oh, Mark you are so old fashioned,” she laughed interrupting him. “So overprotective. Always wanting to keep everyone safe. I suppose I can’t blame you; it is your job to protect after all, but I can look after myself…”
“No, you can’t. You could have been badly hurt. My sister came off her horse jumping that hedge when she was a teenager and just starting to ride. She ended up in a coma for a week,” he reminded her in a serious tone.
“I remember. I’m sorry, Mark.”
“You should be, Lucy. You are a good friend and I don’t want any harm to come to you so that is why…” the humour returned to his voice. “I am going to have to teach you a lesson and spank you.”
“What? No. It will hurt,” she spoke like a child and tried to lift her body off the hay to escape but was unable to move effectively with her hands tied.
Mark swept his arm underneath her and lifted the lower half of her body off the hay so she was on her knees, her chest was down and her bare bottom was raised in the air. Placing his hand on her back to hold her in place, he started to spank her hard, raising his large palm to deliver two strikes in quick succession, first on one cheek and then the next. He was delighted by the way Lucy bucked with the force, like a horse trying to resist being saddled, shrieked and tearfully yelped as he executed her punishment.
“Perhaps next time when I want you not to risk your life, you will be more obedient.” His tone was serious, like an angry father’s, once more echoing loudly above the noise of the slaps. He wasn’t joking or just doing it for effect to arouse his friend although he had no doubts that despite the pain of punishment she was experiencing, she would be soaking wet with need after her spanking and aching for him to mount her. Pain and pleasure were so inextricably linked, it always fascinated him. If properly administered in careful, equal doses, the results were astounding. However, he did genuinely believe in disciplining a woman when it was required to keep her safe and dissuade her from putting her life at risk. Lucy wasn’t the first errant woman whom he’d thrown over his knee like a child, forcibly lowering her skimpy panties to spank her when she had disobeyed an order he had given to protect her whilst in his care. He wouldn’t let what happened to his sister be repeated by another woman. When protected by him in his work as a protection officer, she would always be safe. He would make sure of it even if it cost him his life. That was his job. No, his vocation in life and no one would deter him from it. He lowered his hand to whip it across the tender backs of her thighs creating a fresh spurt of pain to flare across Lucy’s flesh.
Lucy’s bottom and the backs of her thighs were a nice deep red colour by the time he was finished, and she was sobbing. She would have difficulty in sitting down for a while and every time she tried to, she would remember the lesson he had just taught her.
“Shh,” he whispered, brushing his lips against her hot skin.
She was breathing hard, trying to still her emotion.
“I can’t believe you just spanked me like a child,” she cried. “I’m sorry about your sister, Mark. I know I shouldn’t have jumped the hedge but that wasn’t what killed her. She put her own life in danger every day.”
Mark felt his frame tighten at her words. He even considered delivering another two slaps for insinuating that his sister had caused her own death but, like it or not, Lucy was at least partially right.
“I make my own decisions and take my own risks. I can’t believe you spanked me. I feel so humiliated. I won’t forgive you for this… I…”
He grinned, regaining his composure once more and kissed her bottom again while slipping his fingers in between her thighs from behind, pressing his hand down harder on her back when she tried to move away. Her body shuddered the moment his fingertips made contact with her heavily wet clit. As he anticipated, she was drenched and ready for him. She moaned loudly and panted when he picked up his stroke and stretched his middle finger up inside her slippery wet channel to pulse it in and out.
Lucy moved her pelvis down onto his finger and danced to the rhythm his thrusts set. She did not rebuke him again. Keeping his finger inside her, Mark reached upwards to remove a small leather bridle from a hook on the wall.
It was the perfect size for Lucy and especially designed for the purpose of harnessing a woman. Taking his finger from her pussy, he wound his hand through Lucy’s long, silky blonde hair and pulled her head up and back. Once more she yelped.
“Just one more surprise humiliation, naughty girl.” He chuckled. He lowered the bridle over her face and received his own surprise when she opened her mouth to obediently take the bit between her lips. He raised an eyebrow and continued fastening the bridle behind her head.
Mark hadn’t removed any of his clothes. It was part of the game as was the close proximity of the groom whom he often invited to watch his play to heighten the helplessness of the female beneath him craving his mastery and the forbidden excitement of being seen. He could hear the young groom whistling as he walked down the middle of the stalls towards the one next to Mark’s to brush one of the horses dwelling there. He heard him put down the bucket and Lucy moved restlessly looking up at Mark with fearful eyes that they were about to be discovered. He narrowed his eyes wickedly at her.
“No matter, Lucy, we shall give him a show he will never forget,” he told her with a smile the devil would have been proud to wear.
Mark placed his arm underneath her body and forced her up onto all fours, making her precariously balance the top half of her body on her arms tied together at her wrists. He undid his black riding jacket and the buttons on his jodhpurs, ignoring her whimpering against the bit of the bridle.
Mark liberated his cock and moved directly behind Lucy ready to mount and ride his stabled mare. He guided his penis between the pink folds of her heavily juiced pussy and just inside her channel. He poised himself there for a moment hearing the groom beginning to brush the horse as it stamped its foot against the hard floor of the stall next door. As the groom took his cue and looked over, Mark picked up the reins attached to the bridle and gripped Lucy’s thigh with strength. Pulling on the reins to force her head up, he entered her up to the hilt with one deep strong thrust.
Lucy’s breath gasped out from around the bit. Mark wound the reins around his hand and rode her into submission while being watched with interest by the groom peering over the wall of the stable. His cock was rigid inside her, full to the brim with seed that was aching to spill. It wasn’t long before he felt her muscles start to clench around his cock signalling she was ready to climax. He raised his hand and to the delight of the groom slapped the side of her burning red spanked bottom twice, growling an order at her.
“Come now, whore,” he commanded.
Lucy might like to give the impression she was more straitlaced than she actually was, but she loved it when he called her a whore in bed. It always made her come on command and although her experience was new today, this was no different. He exploded with her while driving his cock hard, pulling on the reins until he was spent, and her melting wet orgasm ceased making her slump towards the hay beneath him.
He’d never felt Lucy come so hard yet once they were dressed and outside the stable, she said nothing and appeared cross. He opened his mouth to speak but she silenced him quickly with a hard slap across his face. His head jerked sideways leaving him rubbing his jaw and mouth, covered sexily by neatly groomed facial hair, as she stormed out of the stables past his mother and a man he had seen at the office once or twice before. Someone he recognised as MI5. What did the spook want with him? It must be important for him to drive out to Grace View Abbey. Fastening his riding jacket, Mark walked his tall frame towards them. His mother was shaking her head.
“Have you finished playing with that young woman?” she asked in a disapproving tone, shaking her head at him. He rolled his ice blue eyes at her.
“Well, I guess I won’t be seeing her anymore,” he grinned arrogantly. “So, I suppose I am. What’s wrong? Who is this?”
His mother looked relieved. She turned to the tall, thin, older man standing with his hands behind his back, an amused smile on his face and gestured to him with her hand.
“This is Bernard Lennox. He is an old friend. He wants you to help him with a job.”
By old friend, his mother meant he was one of her colleagues from her days working as a spy for MI5. Bernard offered his hand. Mark shook it.
“So, what does MI5 want with me? I am a Protection Officer for the Police, I don’t see…”
“We want you to protect someone very important.”
“Surely, you have operatives better suited to your needs?”
“No, Mark they don’t,” his mother chimed in with a sigh. “It might have been easier if they had.”
“You have the right background and skills for this job. This person is of high value and we can’t afford to lose them,” Bernard continued.
Mark raised an eyebrow confused but intrigued.
“Who is the man I am to guard?”
“It isn’t a man. Her name is Helena Wright. She is head of a very special department within MI5, one that needs to remain top secret. I have had to go very high up to get clearance for you to do this job and the highest discretion will be required.”
“What does she head?” Mark asked dispassionately tired with all the top secrecy.
It was like pulling teeth trying to get the full information from both Bernard and his mother. They appeared to be uneasy about telling him. They kept exchanging nervous glances. He stared at them perplexed.
“An experimental project that has proved invaluable. She has devised it and she is the lynch pin holding it together.”
“Helena is a psychic, Mark. She uses her gift to remote view, spy and foil terrorist attacks,” his mother blurted out.
Mark started to shake his head.
“We know your feelings on psychics after your sister’s death, but Helena Wright has an undisputed gift and without her we can’t keep one step ahead of them. We are already on critical alert, an attack is imminent, and she is being stalked and blocked both physically and psychically by an enemy every time she tries to see the threat,” Bernard sounded desperate. “Two attempts have already been made on her life.”
“No. You need to get someone else,” Mark told them firmly feeling his anger rise.
His mother became impatient.
“When are you going to stop denying your own gift, Mark? You can help this woman and keep the country safe.”
He leaned forward towards Bernard
“I told you I don’t believe in psychics. They are frauds and dangerous. One of them got my sister killed.”
“So, you don’t believe in me either, Mark?” his mother snapped. “You think I am a fraud and dangerous?”
Mark glared at his mother unsure of how to respond then turned to Bernard.
“I won’t work with psychics. Get someone else.”
Without another word, he walked past them. Hell would have to freeze over before he protected Helena Wright.