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third involuntary burp popped from Leah’s mouth before she had even begun to recover from the shame of the last. The interruption was clearly the last straw for the woman and her face darkened once more and she moved forward menacingly as Leah cowered.
    ‘Pick that up!’ she yelled, pointing to the black iron ball at the side of Leah’s mattress. She mutely complied, having to gather the weight in both hands and hold it to her tummy. As soon as she had a grip, she felt a sharp tug on her hair, and the woman lifted her bodily so that she was standing. She was then dragged by her hair down the corridor to the end stall, where the door to it was unbolted and flung open. Leah was greeted with the sight of the brown pony’s large rear end. The occupant neighed but remained static as Leah was pushed into the stall. The woman was beside her, taking the animal’s tail and lifting it so that Leah could now experience the rather unpleasant sight and smell of its thickly rimmed oval back passage. Squealing as her head was thrust forward to give her a closer view, she tottered about, struggling to maintain her balance and still keep hold of the iron ball, fearing she may fall face first against the animal’s backside.
    ‘If you interrupt me again, you gassy little bitch, I will shove your face right into this horse’s arse. Do you understand me?’
    ‘Yes!’
    ‘Yes what?’
    ‘Yes - I understand!’
    ‘No, you little slut- what do you call me?’
    ‘Yes, Mrs Davies .’
    Leah yelped and jerked precariously forward as the woman delivered a sharp slap to her buttocks.
    ‘You are to call me “Mistress”. Do you understand?’
    ‘Yes, Mistress!’
    Despite her current position, Leah felt an involuntary tingle between her legs at the word. There was no disguising the sexual connotation to it, or the measure used for censure which was still fizzling across the surface of her bottom. Mercifully she was dragged back out and the hand on her hair released its grip and instead gave her a shove in the back to propel her towards her own stall once more. She stood chastened, still quivering from the woman’s words and from the close encounter with the danger end of the pony, the ball fast becoming too heavy to hold. She was only dimly aware of the sound of hooves clopping on the courtyard as she was put back into her quarters and ordered to sit down.
    There were sounds of creaking doors and then new light burst into the interior of the stable and the noise of the hooves amplified. Leah could hear the soft snorting of horses and the clipped Home-Counties accent of a chattering female. The woman turned and disappeared from view as she moved to greet the arrivals, and from what Leah could gather there were two new females present, although it was hard to tell as the voices sounded the same, and one seemed for the main part to be speaking for the both of them.
    There was no mention of their captive as the horses were put back in their boxes and their tack removed, just a chat about the ride and how the mounts had behaved or misbehaved in one case. Then the Mistress was speaking in lower tones and she suddenly reappeared, along with a very pretty blonde in her early twenties, whose face split apart with a sneering smile of delight as she caught sight of the wretched prisoner.
    ‘So this is her,’ the blonde said, the smile retreating and her teeth gritting as she eyed Leah up and down with something between lust and amused contempt. ‘She doesn’t look rich. Her husband is going to be able to pay up, isn’t he?’
    ‘It’s not his money we are after,’ replied the Mistress.
    Leah remained silent as the two regarded her. The younger girl was very pretty and doubtless knew it. Her hair was pulled into the seemingly compulsory pony tail of country girls, but apart from that she could easily have been mistaken from the neck up for a modern city-dweller. Her eyebrows were neatly plucked and jet black, indicating her natural