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cooed as the call was answered. “Can I drop around and see you some time this week? What? Well, it’s a bit of a favour I need. No! No! Everything’s fine! …..Yes! Friday will be perfect. I’ll fly in Thursday night and stay at the Imperial. It’ll be simply lovely to see you again, dahling! Mwah!”
    She sat back and relaxed. At least she knew she had Eric wrapped around her little finger. Angel had been quite right, just a fuck every now and then to keep him happy and he would stump up the cash. For another twenty slaves she might have to consider a blow job – she rolled her tongue round her mouth, recalling the taste of sperm – but that was nothing she couldn’t handle either; just so long as Angel didn’t have to watch!
     

Chapter Three
     
    Angel gunned her hired car along another mile of boundary road. Beside her the high stone wall of The Lodge ran, topped with razor wire and backed by dense woodland. She had ignored her sat nav once she had reached the main gate, late on a fine summer afternoon, and had instead set out to try and get an impression of the size of the estate. Of course everyone with any connection to the world of SM knew of The Lodge, but even she had not realised just how big it was. For mile after mile the wall stretched with the tall trees behind it allowing not the slightest glimpse of what went on within.
    It was the UK’s premier SM club, and specifically for male doms. Angel of course had no problem with submissive females, she adored them as much as the next Master or Mistress, but she wasn’t sure how the members would react to her. The world of The Lodge and the arenas was about as male dominated as it was possible to get – as recent events attested to vividly. But there was no help for it. The CSL stable that was contained within The Lodge’s parklands, was the only quick source of fresh blood. Someone had beaten them to it but there was still talent for hire and she needed all she could get her hands on.
    She came to a crossroads and took the road to her right, keeping the wall on her right and eventually came back to the massive gates. She wound her window down and sounded the intercom buzzer. A girl answered almost instantly.
    “Angela Smythe for Carlo Suarez,” she said curtly.
    “Please use the main car park in front of the house and you’ll find the check in desk in the main hall, just up the steps and through the lobby.”
    The gates began to swing ponderously open and Angel drove through, finding herself on a drive lined with stately lime trees. She followed it for over a mile before coming to a rise and, breaking out from under the tree covering, she found herself at The Lodge proper. The car park stretched away to her left once she driven past the imposing frontage of the house itself, and she found a space, took her bag out of the boot and looked around. The parkland swept down and out to all sides, surrounding the house’s commanding position on its hill. A golf course had been laid out immediately below the slope. Over to her right she caught a glint of sunlight off water and could just make out a lake beyond some stands of trees. It could all be nothing more than a very select country house hotel, she thought as she turned to face the house. But then you saw the ponies and traps outside the front door.
    Angel smiled as she took in the bridled and restrained ponies with scarlet plumes nodding above their heads and the beautifully tooled blinkers. One pony had silver cones on her nipples, the other had an ornate, steel necklace on that hung down over her chest and between her breasts. They were tethered, still harnessed between the shafts of their traps, to a rail that was mounted on the wall beside a sweeping staircase that led up to the enormous front doors.
    As she approached the house, Angel could see the ponies were sweating and they stamped and shook their heads irritably as the flies bothered them. She also noted approvingly that both carried criss