“You stupid, bitch!” Eddy thundered. “You’ve just killed a good horse!”
Tina slunk down onto the bench. Eddy’s cold hard voice echoed around the empty changing room. Next door Tina could hear the light hearted banter of the male jockeys. Eddy hadn’t finished,
“I told you to ride him at the back. You knew he would get tired in a three miler… but oh no, you had to gallop off ahead.”
Tina had enjoyed it. Leading the pack. Her horse out in front, the wind ripping through her thin silks as her horse galloped at 30 mph.
“Sir Duncan is furious with you, my girl…Willywonga is… or rather was … the best horse he has owned; you might lose your job and then you’d be for it…”
Tears welled up in Tina’s eyes, it wasn’t easy being a conditional jockey, and she was desperate to succeed … to compete with the men. But she had done wrong; she knew that she should not have raced ahead… but she was leading at the last… she was in sight of the winning post… it had been a bad jump from the moment Willy had taken off; she’d been lucky to escape with a few bruises, the horse had come off much worse. The screens had gone up and the vet had been called.
Eddy had been quiet for a few seconds. Tina looked up; don’t let him see you’re upset, she told herself. She took in his handsome, rugged features; the dark eyes that glinted underneath the rim of his Trilby: the eyes that made her feel so uncomfortable whenever she found him staring at her when she was mucking out the stables. She frequently blushed in his presence, but now it was Eddy who was red – red with rage. He came closer.
“In my father’s day, my girl, you’d take a thrashing for disobedience like that.”
Tina could feel his breath on her neck and it excited her. There was something magnetic about a powerful, authoritative man. She felt weak and puny and submissive. Eddy seized her by the arm and yanked her to her feet. He grabbed her riding crop off the peg.
“In fact, my girl, it’s time you were taught a few lessons!” Eddy hissed.
“No, Please!” Tina pleaded – but she knew the plea was in vain – that Eddy had already decided on her punishment and there would be no changing his mind – just like that time when she had arrived late for work after over sleeping.
“Do you want to keep your job, or don’t ya?” Eddy questioned.
“Yes, of course…”
“Then take a thrashing.”
“But it’s the twenty-first century – you can’t treat people like this…”
“Oh, can’t I?” Eddy retorted.
Tina found herself being dragged forward. She was still wearing her racing skills and jodhpurs; her black boots and clothes were splattered with mud. Eddy held her tiny frame by the collar of her silks; in an instance she was dangling like a martinet as Eddy lifted her off the ground. Then she was flung onto a large table. The padding that encased her breasts and chest cushioned her as she came to rest on the hard, wooden surface.
Suddenly, the whip was sailing through the air. It cut into her buttocks jerking tears from her eyes. A second stroke walloped the thin white of her jodhpurs and laced her backside. Then another cracking stroke rained down. The next lash of the whip bought forth an involuntary cry as did the fifth and sixth – she could resist the pain no longer,
“Please Eddy, STOP!”
She heard the whip crash land on the other side of the dressing room. Eddy marched from the changing room as if he were being guided by some greater power. At the door he stopped. Through her blurred, tear stained eyes Tina could make out the grin on Eddy’s face… the bulge in his trousers.
The bastard had enjoyed it!
She laid still for a while; her jodhpurs lifeless and dangling, her buttocks red and raw. The burning sensation in her backside fanned through her thighs and up her back. She knew she was wet down below, that her pussy itched for relief, that the thrashing had awakened her sexually just as it had done in the stable. Through the agony was ecstasy: a feeling of pleasure mingled, like twine, with the pain she was suffering. It was some minutes before Tina moved. Slowly, she got undressed and stood naked before the mirror. She admired the neat branding the whip had made on her shapely bottom; the red raw lines that Eddy had cut into her skin.
Then she crept to the shower and turned it on; the warm water refreshed and invigorated and stung. She shampooed her long blond hair and poured body lotion over her small, pert breasts. She splashed it into her slit and let a single slender finger roam freely. The anger of Eddy’s voice came back to her, the authority, the control; she could still feel his firm grip on her arm: she closed her eyes and relived the journey to the table, the whip – her whip – menacing and awesome in all its terrible power. Her body shivered with involuntarily spasms and she moaned as she thought about the unbelievable event that had just befallen her. She, Tina Edwards, an 18 year old farmer’s daughter from County Donegal had been thrashed, just like the nuns had walloped her in convent school and her dad had spanked her when she was little … and just like Eddy had thrashed her in the stable.
The warm water caressed her injured buttocks and sent a tingling through her nervous system as she frigged herself with greater urgency.
The hand on her back made her jump.
“Hi Tina, we just came to see you were alright, so we did.” It was Barry the young Irish jockey Tina had heard laughing in the changing room next door. A flop of ginger hair hung over his cheeky eyes; beside him was the scrawny figure of Sean – another conditional jockey. Tina raised her arms to her chest to cover her breasts then quickly covered her vagina. The two lads laughed.
“Never you mind, Tina, we’ve seen it all before – least ways I have – anyways, we’ve been watching you for ages, so we have.” Barry said.
The two jockeys stood before her with identikit race course white towels wrapped around their waists. Clearly, her presence was having an effect on their manhood!
“Anyways, if it makes you feel better, you can have a look at Sean’s riding tackle.”
With that Barry pulled away Sean’s towel. Sean laughed and jumped back, desperately trying to cover his erect cock. Tina smiled.
“And mine, as well, while you’re at it.” Barry too let his towel drop, revealing a fat, red tipped monster – which appeared incongruous in relation to the diminutive frame that bore it. Barry made no move to conceal his penis – in fact he seemed rather proud of his organ.
Suddenly both jockeys stood before her. Nude. Small of stature and gaunt and thin with dieting, their bony frames seemed almost boyish, yet the erect penis’ that probed the edge of the shower water told her they were young men who were in need of a good, moist cunt to penetrate. Tina’s plight was all too obvious to her – she smiled submissively – knowing she was about to be fucked – twice.
Barry took one pace forward into the light spray of the water that engulfed Tina. He rested his chin on her neck. His fingers made a grab for her pussy – an index finger inserted itself between her moist lips and tickled her innermost sex. Tina released an involuntary moan.
“Now, where did you get up to with frigging yourself after Mr Chapman whipped you?”
Tina released a gasp as Barry’s finger probed further into her slippery interior; feeling out her G spot, sending her into raptures of pleasure.
“Mr Chapman is a fine one with the whip, so he is.” Barry said. “Perhaps you’d better be a good girl in future and just follow race orders and not go and get racing ahead of yourselves. Mr Chapman wants to make a name for his self now he’s taken over from his father and he doesn’t want a young upstart like you to spoil it. Now, that wouldn’t do, would it?”
Barry pressed his mouth against hers; they fell onto the wall of the shower fumbling each others bodies.
Suddenly, Tina felt a hard round object being thrust into her. Billy was fucking her up against the shower wall. Slowly, rhythmically his throbbing member slid back and forth like a well oiled piston. Tina’s scolded buttocks slipped up and down the shower wall in time to his metronomic movements. Her buttocks splayed out on the cool white marble, finding relief from the burning pain. Over Barry’s shoulder Tina could see Sean drinking in the scene before his eyes. As Barry rammed her harder and deeper, Sean adopted the riding position – legs akimbo – he grabbed hold of his thin cock and masturbated. Tina watched wide eyed and incredulous as Sean’s pipe cleaner penis first dripped and then sprayed forth a creamy white mix; it intermingled with the shower water and at once solidified as it twirled into the drain. She felt her vagina tighten around the thicker member that had invaded her. Her muscles clenched and squeezed the alien pole.
“Oh, God!” she shrieked.
Suddenly, Barry’s spunk burst forth inside her; she fell forward as she came too – Barry’s cock pinned her to the wall and kept her from slipping down the shower tiles.
“That was good, Barry,” Tina panted, “so fucking good.”
“Now, it’s time to get you dry, ” Barry said. He took her by the hand and led her to the sauna; little Sean skipping a long behind like an obedient cocker spaniel.
Barry pushed open the sauna door. Tina collapsed onto a wooden bench; already the steam was making her pores weep. Barry and Sean took up positions beside her. Suddenly, Barry stood up.
“It’s over to you, mate.” He left the room, closing the door behind him.
Tina felt Sean’s bony hand on her thigh. She looked at his features, drawn with dieting, his freckled face beaming contently. Tina guessed he was still a virgin. She moved his hand up her leg until it found her cunt. Guided by her hand, Sean started to finger her. As the heat from the sauna dried her body and yet opened her perspiring pores, Sean’s fingers tentatively probed her womanhood. After a while, Tina rolled him onto his back and went down on him. She rode him then, like she had rode Willywonga, back and forth, back and forth, slowly rhythmically she rode the young virgin jockey as his cock rose up inside her cavity. The smile never left his freckled face. Tina rode on, working the young lad’s member; moving up and down upon her mount until Sean squirted his juices into her. Tina clenched the thin pipe cleaner penis as she too climaxed.
Both staggered from the sauna and kissed their goodbyes. Barry was waiting for them.
“Have you done the business, Sean?” he asked.
Sean nodded excitedly.
“I told you Tina would see you right, so I did.”
For a moment Tina blushed as she thought about her reputation around the stables – “Margarine Legs” they called her but she just enjoyed a good time – that was all.
The Irish lads grabbed their towels and left the changing room. Tina made her way back to her peg and pulled her thong on over her sore cunt and buttocks: her jeans and top were next. She then dried her hair and zipped up her padded coat. Ready, she glanced at her mobile phone. Three missed calls and a voice message. Tina stuffed the phone into her pocket; anxious to leave. It was getting dark outside and the race course was empty. Tina knew her car would be the last in the car park – that Barry and Sean would have gone – she wanted to get home to a warm bed and a cup of cocoa. Once in the safe confines of the car she played the voice message – it was from Eddy.
“You’re taking a long time in the shower! Meet me back at the stables; I haven’t finished with you yet, my girl. Oh no, Captain Ramrod wants some Pussy.”
Tina sighed as she started the engine of her mini – it had been a long day and it was not over yet – far from it.