The sight was so arresting that they both stopped arguing and Thomas braked sufficiently hard for his wife, Izabella, to be thrown painfully into her seatbelt.
Having driven on the Sat nav’s instructions through a forest which shielded the sun and emerging into the sunlight at the edge of the woods they were both astonished.
Thomas and Izabella gawped in silence at the two women trotting towards them on the narrow dirt road leading back into the shadowed woodland.
The two women were similarly attired. Both wore tight black, strappy corsets, creating a Marylyn Monroe figure. Matching black tights led down to thigh length boots, the spiky heels of which were easily four inches.
But that wasn’t the amazing part. Not by far.
On each of their heads was a plume of feathers, one in dark blue and the other in a deep maroon colour, bouncing in time with their jogging.
But that was not the amazing bit, still not by far.
They wore bridles. Both of them. A head harness with a horses’ bit between their teeth. The bit was drawn back, appearing uncomfortable in the two women’s mouths. They were both made up, as if for a night club. The darkness around the eyes making the eyes themselves seem huge. Pink lipstick framing the white teeth around the bit.
And still that wasn’t the amazing bit.
The girls were towing a cart with large gleaming wheels down the dirt path. Reins gripped them over their shoulders and around their waists leading back to a third woman sitting in the cart. Their wrists were secured to the arms of the cart.
As the cart clip clopped closer, so the third woman steering the cart could be better seen. She too was in black trouser suit, with knee high boots, a white blouse with deep frilly decorations scooping down from the neck to her bust and a top hat. Yes, a top hat.
A long whip was set into the cart, perhaps some four feet high. But in the driver’s hand, the same hand that was holding the reins was a long thin crop that was used to slice at the buttocks of the two pony girls in front.
Neither the driver, nor the two pony girls paid them the slightest of attention. Thomas, Izabella, and their car might as well have been invisible.
As the pony girls drew up to the bonnet, Thomas could make out they were wearing voluminous tails held by a harness around their hips.
The cart swept past them in a cloud of dust adding to the dream state in which Thomas and Izabella had succumbed.
“Fucking amazing!” Izabella said, twisting in her seat to see more before the cart now partially hidden by dust clouds, as it disappeared around a curve into the shadows of the woodland.
“I told you,” He gushed. “I said you’d be knocked out by it!”
She slid back into her seat and blinked quickly.
“So sexy isn’t it!” he said, seeking to prompt a reaction.
It was so rare to hear the prim Izabella curse, that hearing two fucks energised Thomas.
“So we can stay the weekend. Yeh?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. It all seems pervy to me.”
“But you saw them!”
He lowered his voice in desperation, “So please tell me you’ll give it a go.”
“Well,” she paused for an agonizingly long time. “The outfit was super dead sexy.”
“I knew it. I told you!”
He pressed the accelerator and drove towards the high walls, in which there was a huge castle sized doorway of wood.
A chubby uniformed guard slowed him down and approached in a bored languid style, as if he had performed this dispiriting task many times.
As Thomas wound down his window the guard leaned down with a sigh.
“This is all private property, sir. Even the woods and fields. I am going to have to ask you to leave here. Quickly.”
“No,” Thomas pulled out the letter from The Master. “Look. We have an invite!”
The guard scanned the letter and took in the both of them warily.
The weedy Thomas in tee shirt and jeans and the knockout blonde smiling in the passenger seat wearing tee shirt and jeans – but doing them better justice.
After the guard had his eyeful of Izabella, he pressed a button and said something into a mobile phone. The twin high doors electronically opened onto another gob smacking sight. The golden stately home with its pillared frontage, wide steps.
The guard said, “Drive up to the steps and wait for someone to meet you.”
“Many thanks,” Thomas said as they drove into the grounds.
Around the manor house were dirt tracks, pathways and a concrete road, all between lush green fields … and more amazing sights.
Women in the top hatted outfits, decorated pony girls, muscular men and sexily attired French maids milled around or moved purposefully about their duties.
Thomas said, “I’ve come to heaven!”
“Your heaven,” Izabella said. “For pervs like you.”
They drove slowly past a double floored block, with long open doors, showing more pony girls and women with the top hats. Inside Thomas could just about make out small rooms, with beds and sofas. Very curious.
A few cars and a couple of horse vans were neatly parked opposite the house in a parking area, but Thomas drove to the steps as instructed.
He got out with the haste of a child on its first day of holiday. Izabella exited the car a little more reluctantly, but there were no doubts that The Manor was a staggering sight to behold. Like from a movie of an eighteenth century mansion.
A tall, broad man, with dark skin and jet black tight curly hair bounced down the steps. He wore jodhpurs, a crips white shirt, open at the neck from which bushes of hair stole and a huge confident grin.
Next to him were two black women in the black outfits of the cart driver they had seen in the woodlands. They both seemed tall, maybe on account of the extraordinary heels on their knee height boots. One wore a black curve enhancing jacket, they both had the white blouses with the ruffles about their breasts. They also each wore the top hat they had seen on the driver, making them appear to be sexy giants.
Thomas made to say hello to the confident man, but the man ignored him and immediately greeted his wife.
“You must be Izabella.”
“Yes,” Thomas gushed. “My wife. We’ve been …”
The man grinned a wide toothy smile. “You are every bit as stunning as your husband said.”
Izabella giggled and blushed. “Oh really. And who are you, may I ask?”
Thomas pulled back his shoulders and started with, “This is the guy I’ve been …”
But the tall man took hold of both of Izabella’s hands and announced, “I am The Master.” He laughed. “Yes. It sounds corny. But it sort of works around here.”
Two burly men in dark shirts and white shirts, tight around their muscles came down the steps.
The Master addressed them without looking at them. “Take their things inside and park their car for them. I must show this beauty my not so humble abode.”
Izabella laughed in a way Thomas had never before hear. A girly, nervous giggle.
Thomas opened the boot for the men to take out the cases saying to The Master, “My wife saw the pony girls when we came in. She said she’d love to dress like them and I …”
Izabella snapped at her interfering husband, “Not the pony girls, dumb arse! The driver of the cart!” She turned back to the Master, “Where do I sign up for that job?”
The Master laughed easily. “You know I could tell you were the dominant one in your relationship the moment I saw you both.”
Thomas cleared his throat, “Well I wouldn’t say that.” He said to his wife, “But darling don’t you think the pony girls looked hot? I mean those outfits!”
The wife narrowed her eyes but maintained her gaze on the hunk of The Master, saying, “No honey. You thought that. I know how you like to dress up.”
Thomas was speechless. What? She was giving away his secret.
“Erm no, darling, no, oh I see you are having a joke.” He laughed but even to him it sounded embarrassed and forced.
Izabella lowered her voice, as if her husband couldn’t hear, “He’d love to try on one of those outfits.”
The Master pulled back his shoulders, “Is that so. Thomas! These two charming young ladies,” he indicated the statuesque black women either side of him, “I am sure will be delighted to take you to the stables. Take a look at the girls. Take a look at their outfits. And if you are brave enough, why not try one on?”
Thomas’ dick stood to attention in his jeans, so he turned half on to disguise his embarrassing erection.
“Well, Master, I mean,” Thomas, felt defensive, “I don’t know. I was rather hoping to see my wife … you know … she has amazing legs and everything.”
The Master released one of Izabella’s hands but held the other so that she was propelled to follow him as he approached and towered over Thomas.
“Don’t feel coy here, Thomas. We have open views on everyone and their predilections. If you don’t wish to try the outfits, then don’t!” He smiled, “But I have a feeling you’d love to have a close-up view of those gorgeous girls, and maybe a close look at their sexy outfits.”
“Ladies!” he said to the two statuesque women, “Why not escort our shy boy to the stables. After all he is our guest this weekend, and we must make him as at home as possible.”
“M,M, Master,” Thomas stuttered, “There is no need, really.”
But already the two women, now wearing confident smirks were beside him. He looked at them, feeling they could be a pair of intimidating skyscrapers!
“Erm, thank you ladies, but,” Thomas began, but each powerful woman grabbed one of his bare arms and led him away from the house, back towards the long block they had passed.
Thomas looked back to see the Master run his arm around his wife’s shoulders before leading her up the steps between the pillars and in to the dark interior of the Manor.
Thomas heard the tall man say, “Izabella. Such a delightfully sensuous name. And while Thomas indulges himself, perhaps I can find a way to indulge you.”
To Thomas’ shock, his wife leaned into the embrace and giggled.
She obviously didn’t realise what The Master wanted from her, so Thomas made to twist around and snap out of the clutches of the two women. But his actions made them grip him harder and lift him up so he was now walking at pace but on his toes.
“Erm, ladies. Please. My feet are barely on the floor. I want to go back and tell me wife …”
The woman to his left simply said, “Come on.”
She spoke with such a sharp tone that he was immediately shut up. Only his erection felt natural in the circumstances, and that was growing harder.
Before him lay the block, around which were a few pony girls and more women in the driver uniform with their top hats. It was when he noticed the sexily clad French maids that he stopped struggling and with gawping eyes let the women virtually carry him to the block.