A Rough Ride: Pony Girl Training in Latex and Leather by C. P. Mandara Page B

could, she swore silently as the rest of the suit gradually came to life. So much for there being no vibration, now she practically trembled all over. Disgustedly she found her mouth drooling with need, even though she had not been gagged. Wiping away the spittle with a plastic hoof she crawled onwards and thoughts of vengeance overtook her once more. She wondered if Kyle would help her, given the right incentive. If not, Mark's previous offer for the position of a lifetime submissive slave suddenly seemed a whole lot more appealing.
     

Yoo-hoo Darling
     
    Tapping sharply against the glossy screen of a smartphone, a bright red talon poised over a list of contacts before choosing one that read The Boss . Lifting the phone to her ear with extreme caution, it was clear that the woman did not wish to do damage to her elegantly-styled blonde waves, which had been tamed in beautifully long tresses that rested in perfect glossy order upon her immaculate leather jacket. Listening to the dial tone as the call connected, the woman smiled to herself. It had been a good day - a very good day, in fact.
    'Darling,' said a refined male voice, 'I trust you've seen the CCTV footage?'
    'Exquisite. Just the tiniest glimmer of pain as he exited the building, but it's the most expression he's allowed us to witness in a very long time. I think you might have nailed it. Who would have thought? The girl might very well be his Achilles heel and we'll be there to exploit that weakness to the fullest, won't we, dear?'
    He chuckled. 'I certainly hope so. I've been waiting a long time to bring him down and my patience was beginning to wear thin. No one seems to inspire any kind of emotion within him and I was beginning to despair.'
    She purred into the handset, 'You think he might drown, hook, line and sinker with this one?'
    'You never can tell, but there's a chance. It's been a long wait.'
    'Do you really think you'll get him to agree to what you have planned?' The blonde pushed her lips into a delicate moue as she considered the question.
    'There are no guarantees, but that's half the fun. Now he's taken a bite of the apple, I suspect he'll be back for more. If we see him back at Albrecht within the week, we'll know we've nailed it.'
    'What then?'
    'Then, we let him have another little taste of her, to whet his appetite and up the stakes. Kyle's the perfect trainer with which to achieve that. I couldn't have picked a better one had I done it myself.'
    'Don't you feel in the least bit guilty?' The blonde already knew it was a stupid question before the query left her lips, but she wanted to make sure this man was almost as inhuman as he seemed.
    'Not even the tiniest bit, darling.'
    'So you're going to let Kyle do his worst?'
    'Yes, my dear,' he said with absolute conviction, 'although I don't think it will be necessary.'
    'And when you get Matthews right where you want him, you'll let me do my worst?'
    'That's the part I've been looking forward to the most.' Michael Redcliff did not smile, but he allowed himself to get lost in a rather pleasant daydream of Mark Matthews, kneeling naked, prostrate at his feet and begging for mercy as the whip came down.
     

Research
     
    Immediately cancelling his hotel reservation for the evening, Mark headed straight for the chopper and got the crew to file a flight plan straight back to London. Good job he'd had the forethought to keep them on standby. He didn't fancy the long drive home in the fired-up state he was in. Stepping up into the AW139, the two blondes from earlier greeted with him garishly bright smiles and looked crushed when he told them to fuck off. Too bad. He wasn't in the mood for anything even remotely resembling sex, and wasn't that a first? He was beginning to wish he had never laid eyes on Jennifer Redcliff. Now he had a head full of questions that probably wouldn't find answers and a throat full of bile. Buckling himself into the deeply cushioned cream leather seat at the rear of the craft,