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A sex starved prof. learns to use her slave boy in new ways.
He uses my momentum to fling me belly-down upon a blanket he has draped over the front of his hunting saddle. Sputtering extremely un-lady like words, I struggle fiercely until the man brings the palm of his hand down with a solid crack upon my fanny. I am subdued; stunned that he has dared to treat me in such a manner. My wrists are tied behind my back, my feet are bound, and a dark silk handkerchief is placed firmly over my eyes. I sniffle in fear; in outrage that I am hanging there in front of him like a slain deer. His low voice reaches my ears; reassures me that all will be well as long as I behave. I think that this man just may be the biggest knave I have ever met. I wonder why he has captured me... Surely he must know that my father is wealthy and intends upon holding me for ransom?
Our journey together begins along the sandy trail in the forest. We ride in silence. To take my mind off my predicament and stinging behind, I concentrate on listening... to the piercing calls of a hawk, the sighs of the leaves in the breeze, the steady breathing of the horses; my own breathing. I feel thankful for the blanket that cushions my body from the saddle. Become grateful also for the warmth of the cloak I had donned earlier this day, to stave off the slight chill on my way out to the barn.
It seems as if we travel for hours and I grow bored and weary. I can tell from the muffled sound of the horses' hooves upon the ground that we have strayed off onto a different path. We approach a splashing stream and pause at the edge. Our horse lowers its head to drink and my rider rests his hand upon my side to keep me from rolling away. The piquant aroma of a plant the men smoke; mingles with their relaxed banter in a language I do not comprehend. I think of escape and his fingers start to move ever so slightly, stroking my side lightly as if I am a pussy cat. The horse abruptly raises its head, and I feel relieved when the rider instead places both hands back upon the reins.
We continue our passage. After a short while to my dismay I feel the man's hand searching for a way under my cloak. He gains entry and his fingers begin to roam, becoming bolder as they trace the curve of my breast. He is baiting me and I stumble right into his jest. I shriek and heave mightily, causing the horse to shy uneasily sideways. The man briskly delivers another spanking and there is laughter this time. My pride hurts just as badly as my behind and I clench my fists... because my hands are tied I can do nothing to try and ease the pain. Grudgingly I decide that for now, there is nothing further to gain from ill behavior... I do not stir or make a sound when he delves back under my cloak and finds his way into my gauzy cotton shirt. He explores the silk sash I wear across my breasts, tied at the back for support when I ride; tells me how very clever I am while his fingers pry at the knot. It soon comes undone and he seizes one end of the sash, pulling it to him smoothly. The sensation of the silk rushing over my nipples sends divine ripples up and down my spine. I hear the man snuff at the warm delicate fabric, savoring the fragrance of me; he is like a stallion testing the air with flaring nostrils for the scent of a mare in heat.
The man massages along the path of my spine; traces the curve of my hip and down and around until his fingers find the place where the V of my split riding skirt meets between my legs. He embarks upon a thorough inquisition of this new found treasure and I bite my lip; my breath quickening. My face is aflame and I try my best to stay silent as he plays this game; I would be so ashamed if the other riders knew. He groans low in his chest when his fingers feel the wetness that begins to seep through the fabric of my panties and skirt. I whimper softly in despair that my desire be so apparent. He gives the cheek of my behind an affectionate squeeze, then simply withdraws his hand. And I am left there to wonder if a ransom is not what this man has in mind after all.