Naked Ambition by Sean O'Kane Read Free Book Online Page A

them like to express a rebellious side between the shafts.”
    Angel smiled and examined the back of the pony she was now seated behind. The shoulders were broad and the back was shapely. The hips wide and the legs quite long. She wouldn’t have minded betting that this beast would give a good ride anywhere –and once again she felt a tide of warm moisture at her belly.
    In front of her the pony stamped her sandal-shod foot and as Angel gathered up the reins she ducked and twisted her head, pulling impatiently.
    “Ah! Did Carlo tell you to give me the liveliest one in the stable?” she called across to Chrissie, smiling broadly.
    “Now that’d be telling!” the doctor called back cheerfully and with a quick flick of her whip, tongue-clicked her pony up.
    Angel tugged hard on the reins and brought the pony’s head up before lashing it back and forehand across the buttocks.
    The pony started off but was plainly skittish, shaking her head and prancing as she headed across the cobbles to follow Chrissie through an archway and out into the park. She dragged one wheel of the trap against a corner as they entered the arch and jolted the rig quite harshly. Angel whipped her again and the pony skittered sideways, her sandals’ scraping and clopping echoing loudly against the stone walls of the short tunnel. Angel pursed her lips as she dragged the pony’s head to face the direction of the road again and waited till they were out in the fresh air. Then she reined in with brutal force and swung the driving whip back and forth across the buttocks while holding her reins tightly.
    The pony squealed through her bit and tossed her head as Angel smacked the whip cord home against her back and shoulders; she didn’t stop until the pony was fully cowed and subdued and Angel was panting from the exertion of thrashing her.
    Chrissie had stopped and had turned to watch over her shoulder, smiling broadly as Angel gathered herself, swept a stray lock of hair off her forehead and tongue-clicked the penitent pony forwards once more.
    “Actually Carlo’s instructions,” she told Angel as she brought her rig alongside at a leisurely walk, “were to make sure you got an enjoyable mount!”
    Angel laughed and looked at her pony’s lividly striped buttocks rippling as she walked.
    “I’ll thank him myself,” she said and flicked the pony up to a trot.
     
    The day was fine and the two women spent a relaxing hour trotting along tracks that criss crossed the golf course before the golfers had really got started and they met Brian coming the other way at the fourteenth. In contrast to themselves he had his pony at full stretch, the rig’s wheels rumbled on the dry ground and the driving whip smacked and curled high in the air above the sweat-streaked slave’s back.
    When he saw them he reined in so harshly the pony’s feet nearly went from under her as she leaned back against the weight, tossing her head and spraying lather and sweat. At the last moment, he yanked her head round to the right and the rig did a little skid as it came to a halt.
    Angel was impressed by the driving skill and by the toughness of the pony but recognised male antler rattling when she saw it and kept her face neutral.
    “Good morning!” Brian called out as his pony champed at her bit and stamped in irritation at having her run interrupted.
    “Which one’s this?” Angel asked, unable to identify the pony from behind the heavy blinkers and bridle, although she had studied the CSL brochure online.
    “This is Legs,” Brian told her, stroking her back with the tip of the driving whip and making her shudder with what Angel recognised as the mingled fear and lust a slave should feel towards her owner. “She’s coming on well. Just needs a bit of toughening up.”
    “Don’t flay her too much, I might need her if she’s not been booked!” Angel reminded him.
    “Nah!” Brian grinned. “She’ll be fine! See you at the yard.”
    He hauled the pony backwards