The Riding Shop

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 color - 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 favorite

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

within them. 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."