From: <100576.724@compuserve.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.spanking
Subject: Jennifer goes riding
Date: 13 Apr 1996 13:59:07 GMT


I am an accomplished equestrian and during the last summer after I left
school, I spent several weeks at a riding stable. The arrangement was fairly
simple; I worked for my bed and board grooming the horses and mucking out as
and when required. Lydia Morgan ran the place with her husband, George.
George I liked and could get along with. Lydia, however was a bitch. A
toffee nosed cow I called her. She overheard me once and replied that she
regarded me as a cheap little tart, so I guess the feeling was pretty much
mutual.

One day we were out exercising the horses. Mine was a huge chestnut mare
with a fiery temperament called Nemesis - we fitted like two pieces of a
jigsaw. I loved her. We cantered out into the lane behind the others, her
hooves skittering with excitement on the rough tarmac.

Lydia led us out into the lane for a while before turning into a gate
leading into some fields and woods. Once we were all into the field, she
spurred her mount into a trot before breaking into a gallop. Nemesis needed 
no spurring and before long we were the only two well out in front of the
others. We entered the woods and Lydia glanced over her shoulder as I
closed on her.

I accept that she will always be the better rider, but at least I always
make sure I look where I'm going. That way I don't bump into low branches.
She hit the deck with a thud and lay dazed. I reigned in Nemesis and 
dismounted - by which time Lydia was coming round. She was unhurt and stood
unsteadily. Her hard hat was askew and her britches were torn and muddy.
Then I let myself down - I laughed. I didn't just laugh. I doubled over in
uncontrollable hysterics while Lydia stood watching me, her face puce with
fury. I knew I had just stepped over the mark but it wasn't until that
evening that I discovered just how far. I guessed that I would end up
paying a price but I didn't know what it would be.

When we arrived back at the stables, I stayed for a while, grooming Nemesis
and filling her nosebag. I heard the stable door close as someone entered
but didn't take too much notice. When I heard the bolt slide home, I turned.
Lydia stood just in front of the door. In the crook of her arm, she cradled
a shotgun.

"No one laughs at me, you little hussy," she said.
"I'm sorry," I replied, looking at the gun. Guns do funny things to my bowels and this one was busy doing 
it. It also had my complete undivided attention.
"Not as sorry as you will be," she said. "Undress."
"What?"
"I said, undress," her voice hardened.

I hesitated and she lifted the gun fractionally so that it pointed directly
at my abdomen. I decided that perhaps getting undressed was a good idea. 
Slowly, I unbuttoned my blouse and slid it to the floor, before undoing my
belt and unbuttoning my jeans. I wriggled and slid them over my hips before
stepping out of them when they landed on the floor. She stood for a moment
staring at my slim body. My skin was pale and I had no tan lines on my hips
and bottom. I don't like tanning - not sun tanning anyway - an English rose,
that's me. Lydia's gaze followed down from my long white neck to my rounded
boobs, pausing briefly at the dark triangle between my legs - all the while
her tongue darted over her lips.

"Turn around and lay down on the hay."

I turned. There was a pile of hay bales in one corner of the stable, so I
walked over to them, feeling her eyes follow the gentle sway of my rounded
buttocks as I moved. Following Lydia's command, I lay across the bales, my
head down in the shadows and my bottom high up over the top bale - a perfect
target. I could hear Lydia moving about and shortly she came into view. In
her hand was a riding crop.

"Now we will see who's laughing," she said.

I said nothing as she walked out of sight. Crack! the crop landed on my
bottom with all the force Lydia could muster. "Oooh!" my bottom bucked under
the shock as another blow landed. Crack! Crack! crack! Crack! With each
searing blow I clenched my cheeks and cried out.

"Spread your legs."

I moved my legs apart so that she could see everything - my crack and my
anus. "Put your hands on your arse cheeks and pull them apart."

I placed one hand on each cheek, feeling the burning beneath my palms.
I then pulled them apart, stretching the muscles in my anus. Then she
landed a stinging vertical blow along the crack of my arse. Swish, crack! 
"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" My anus exploded in a ball of pain and I kicked my legs
back, letting go of my bottom as tears flooded my eyes.

"Pull it apart again"
Gingerly I placed my hands on my buttocks and pulled them apart again so
that Lydia's target was restored. Crack! crack! crack! My bottom was on fire
like someone had drawn red hot pokers across it and guttural cries escaped
from deep in my throat. Then suddenly she stopped.

"You may take your hands away now."
I relaxed and started to rise.
"Did I say you could get up?"

I lay down again. Once more she walked into my vision. This time she held a
rawhide bull whip and watched my horrified expression with unconcealed
pleasure as she uncoiled it. "You can't..." I started.

"Shut up."

She walked out of my view and lifted the rawhide whip. It sang as it sliced
through the air - a high pitched whistling sound in the warm still night.
Then it landed. CRACK! like a bolt of lightening slicing across the raw
exposed flesh of my bottom. I uttered a primal scream - the pain was
excruciating, I couldn't believe that anything could hurt so much. The whole
of my bottom was burning with pain. Swish, crack! Swish, crack! Swish, crack
With each cut my legs thrashed about and I bit the hay under my face.
Swish, crack! Each blow bit deep into my bottom and the tops of my thighs -
then along the crack, fuelling the fire already there. I felt as if I were 
sitting in burning embers.

Then, suddenly, it stopped. Wordlessly Lydia walked into my vision and
watched as I lay there uttering small moans and sobs. In her arm was the
shotgun. As I watched her, she broke the gun open and showed me the empty
chambers. I could hear her laughing as she walked away, leaving me lying
there sore and naked.

I smiled to myself as I ran a hand gingerly over her handiwork, flinching
as I touched the weals and moaning with pleasure. So, she thought the last
laugh was on me.

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Jenny X