Stable Boy Ch. 02

"That's better, now you're getting it," Amanda said.

Whilst he was still on his knees the cuffs were fitted around his wrists and attached to the hook on the end of the block and tackle. Sandra then started to pull on the rope forcing Jim to his feet until he hung, stretched to the limit with his feet just touching the ground. Sandra then tied of the end of the rope around a cleat holding it fast.

"Kathy, take his pants down," Sandra ordered.

Kathy went to unfasten his belt but, finding it a struggle, knelt down in front of him. Once she had got his jeans unfastened she pulled them down until they hung at his ankles. His boxers followed immediately afterwards and, with his arms pulled above his head, his tee shirt was raised exposing everything below the waist.

"What the fuck!" exclaimed Sandra, "he's got his dick in a cage; look!"

"Well, well, well," said Amanda. "Who put this on you?"

"Miss Worthing," Jim replied.

"And why did she do that?" Amanda went on.

Jim felt as if her were in some sort of nightmare. Miss Worthing had made her reasons for making him wear the cage sound so simple, so straightforward but now, now that he was going to have to explain them to the girls he couldn't find the words; any explanation made him look like some sort of pervert and he didn't dare lie, he would be found out far too easily.

"Come on," prompted Amanda, "we haven't got all night. You're only making things worse for yourself."

"She put it on to help me learn self control. I keep getting erections and she didn't want me scaring the youngsters," Jim said, his eyes screwed shut with embarrassment.

"You keep getting erections; hey, we found that out last night," Amanda said to general laughter. "Well, it makes no difference to us, you're still getting your punishment."

Sandra stood before him tracing the tip of her crop around his caged penis. Jim didn't dare look her in the face but hung his head. However his deep sense of shame, and his fear, couldn't prevent his reaction; his penis began to swell, filling the cage as it did so.

"There you go," Sandra said, "the slightest touch and he's getting a stiffy. Looks like he enjoys being tied up. No wonder Miss Worthing put the cage on him."

"Now, doormat," she continued, "you're getting twelve strokes and you're to count and say thank you after each one. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Miss Brennan," Jim answered. "Count and say thank you."

Sandra went round behind him, there was a swish and...

"AAARGHHH! Jesus! Fuck! Please! Stop!" Jim screamed as the ribbon of fire seared across his buttocks. From the other end of the stables came the whinnying of some of the horses.

"Careful, Sandra," Amanda said, "he's scaring the horses. We'd better put a gag on him if he's going to scream like that. Kathy, go and get a bridle from the cupboard; you know the sort we need."

Kathy ran off towards the tack room returning moments later with a network of leather straps and steel attachments. She handed it to Sandra who sorted out the tangle and started to fit it over Jim's head. He could immediately see why Amanda had called it a bridle; although it was shaped for a human head it shared many of the aspects of a horses bridle, including a bit which went in his mouth. However, Jim couldn't remember the equine version having a rubber ball fitted to the bit, a rubber ball which filled his mouth and effectively gagged him.

Once again Sandra disappeared behind him. There was a pause and Jim looked up. Amanda, Karen, and Kathy were watching intently. Once again he heard a swish behind him and...

The next several minutes disappeared into a blur for Jim. Again and again the crop lashed across his buttocks and his upper thighs. There was no way he could have counted, let alone said 'thank you'; all his breath was taken with screaming, pleading, imploring all of which was, of course, lost as the gag muffled his cries. Even when she stopped the burning agony from his backside just went on and on; tears streamed down his face, his nose filled with snot making breathing hard.

As he finally calmed down Amanda came and stood in front of him.

"Here's the thing, doormat, if you're good, very, very good, we'll let you have little treats but if you're bad, if you upset us in any way, you suffer. Now, are you going to be a good little doormat from now on?" Jim nodded his assent, "and do you promise to do everything we tell you to?" again Jim nodded, "good, now down on the floor like the doormat you are."

Amanda looked over at Kathy who went and released the rope letting Jim collapse in a heap. Then Amanda, closely followed by the others, wiped her boots across his battered backside before, laughing together, they left.

For a moment or two Jim just lay there, still overwhelmed by what had happened. His buttocks had subsided to a dull roar of pain but it wasn't that which disturbed him so. He was caught, well and truly caught and he could see no way out. He could, of course, go to Miss Worthing and tell her he no longer wanted to work at the stables but he knew Amanda well enough to know that, now that she'd got her hooks into him, he wouldn't be able to wriggle out that easily. The threat of being accused of rape was terrifying; even if he could avoid any legal problems he would be branded as a pervert for life in the small village community. He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and then up to kneeling. The wrist cuffs were buckled rather than locked and, with a certain amount of twisting and turning he could get them off. After that the bridle was relatively easy and he had nearly finished when he heard a sound behind him.

"Not finished yet?" Miss Worthing said as she approached.

"I've been...," Jim started.

"I can see what you've been...," Miss Worthing cut across him. "I gather the girls have been playing with you. Those look like crop marks on your backside."

"Yes, Miss Worthing, Miss Brennan punished me," Jim explained.

"I'm sure you deserved it, more than that I don't want to know. Now finish off and get home. It's getting late. Oh, and I'll take those." Miss Worthing held out her hand for the cuffs and bridle. "Come on, and for God's sake pull your jeans up."

"What about..." Jim indicated his groin.

"That stays. What, you were hoping to have a little play with yourself when you got home? Well, think again. We'll review it tomorrow, after you get back from visiting Mrs Johnson." And without another word she turned and left.

Jim pulled up his pants and went back to work; he had four horses to rub down before he'd finished.