She had liked it and wanted to do it again tonight. In the shadows of the living room, her pale nudity became ribbed with reflections of the city lights sneaking through the window. She looked like a tigress. Removing the accessories from the shopping bag, she adjusted them with care. Gradually she metamorphosed into a long-legged filly in platform boots with toe boxes split as hooves. The harness on her naked chest framed her compact breasts and, on the left nipple, a minute silver ring flickered. The hips and the firm buttocks were emphasized by the black thong, from which hung a dark tail of satiny threads.

She fixed a red feather on top of her head. Then started to roll her braid into a bun, but Marco immobilized her wrists with an abrupt gesture.

"Leave your hair like that."

"Careful, you're hurting me," she complained, lowering her arms and massaging her wrists. The long braid fell down like a hazel mane.

Marco did not acknowledge the protest. His big hands, however, moved with unsuspected gentleness when he fitted the mouthpiece and reins on her. Lastly, he covered her face with a mask that exposed only the eyes and the crimson lips girded with a bit.

He could now do several things. Skim over her body with his own. Caress her chest. Lash her flanks to kindle the flesh and stir the mind. Until she begged for more... Previously it had been almost a child play. To ease her into it

This time Marco chose discipline.

He stood beside her and held the reins, leading her around the room. She took a step forward and he slid the whip behind her knees so she would lift her legs higher. They went on like that for a few feet. She maintained a rigid posture while trying to balance on the boots. Little by little, she relaxed and eventually resumed her natural walk. She had a startle and straightened up when the whip touched the back of her knees. One more lap, followed by another. He instructed her to concentrate on the rhythm of the gait. It needed to be elegant and fluid. The angle of the legs absolutely precise.

When she eventually got it right, the pace became hypnotic and she lost herself in it, accepting the guidance of those hands that held the reins with total control. She no longer had free will and gratefully transferred the weight of that responsibility to him. She was nothing more than an animal. A beautiful animal with a majestic poise, at the Master's mercy. The whip now and again rewarded her with a pat or corrected her with a fiery kiss. She learned how to kneel to perfection. And then rise even more gracefully.

The furniture in the room retracted to the corners, vanishing into the shadows. The half-darkness gradually gave place to the warm brightness of the sun. She was now in the open air, the dirt under her hooves, the breeze against her body and the whisper of the trees pricking up her ears. With a keen sense of smell, she captured the scent of the man guiding her in the paddock. It was distinct from hers, a citric aroma mixed with that of wood and trampled grass. She inhaled it deeply and it was as if she introjected a part of the man into her body, creating a stronger bond between the two of them. She was now an extension of him, and both moved in synch. From time to time, the firm hand would reach her body—slapping her flanks or buttocks, squeezing her nipple in the precise cusp of pleasure.

She couldn't tell for how long that went on, until the moment the reins were tightened in a smooth motion. She obediently stood still and looked at Marco with an inquisitive expression. He raised one eyebrow, his face stern, and that was enough to make her shiver in anticipation. She was invaded by a surge of heat irradiating between her thighs. Her core pulsated, slowly getting moist. What's next?

As if he guessed the question, Marco outlined the shape of her lips with his fingertip and loosened the bit. He brought his tongue into her mouth, in a soft and brief kiss. Next, she felt the coarse texture of a sugar cube where his tongue had been. She hardly noticed the white mass melting in her mouth, as now Marco started caressing her thighs with the handle of the whip. With a quiver, she clenched her hands.

The cylindrical handle sank into the valley between her thighs, which forced her to part her legs just a bit. The handle was then replaced with the supple whip's end—that end used for inflicting pain. The narrow leather strips glided across her skin in unpredictable routes, going around her stomach and buttocks, insisting on the curve of the breasts, softly pulling the silver ring. Panting, she closed her eyes and, without realizing it, crushed the sugar cube between her teeth. A perspiration line budded on her forehead. Her whole body, her whole being, throbbed for the promise of the next caress.

For a never-ending moment, nothing happened. She opened her eyes to find Marco's fixed gaze upon her. He had stepped back and was playing with the whip ends, twisting them between his fingers. His face did not reveal any emotion, but she could sense in his dark irises the hint of a smile.

Marco moved forward and repositioned the mouthpiece against her lips. Then whispered in her ear:

"We shall continue now."

That evening, her taming was concluded.

____________________________________________________________

Hmmm... not sure what to say here. It's sort of twisted. Why is he doing this?

I could explain it, but I think I would influence you, whereas I'd rather have you draw your own conclusions.

Side note: she's enjoying it, believe me. It's just a crazy fantasy. Nothing beyond that. And she's a consenting adult, not a minor by the way!