The Stable Master

[NomDePlum123]

The Stable Master​

Daniel Wallace sat alone in the corner of the Willows Arms nursing a pint. He was lost in thought but wore a wry smile; he fingered a long red welt, which ran the length of his stubbled cheek.

“Another Wallace?” The barmaid called across the room. She spread her arms on the bar top and leaned towards the man expectantly. The move had the desired effect of displaying the top half of her breasts to the solitary drinker.

Wallace dismissed her with a wave of his hand and returned to his musings. The welt, delivered by “Her Ladyship’s” riding crop still smarted and throbbed. He grinned as he reflected on the incident. He had just given her a leg-up onto Soldier and was cinching the saddle’s girth belt. He had reached up and squeezed her thigh and commented.

“Don’t gallop him into such a lather as you did yesterday, Mi Lady. You wont find what “Himself” can’t provide on the back of a horse.”

The young Lady Julia looked down at Wallace, shocked by the effrontery of the squeeze on the upper thigh. Then, as the comment registered with her she violently brought the riding crop across the stable master’s face.

“How dare you! How dare you!” As she spoke the phrase the second time she swung the crop again but Wallace had hop-stepped back and away from the stallion’s side. She now delivered a third blow from her crop, this time on the hindquarters of Soldier and he sprang out of the stable doors at a full gallop.

Wallace rubbed his cheek and stared at them racing away from the barns. “My that’s a fine arsed woman.” He muttered while he watched “Her Ladyship’s” bottom rise and fall as she and Soldier thundered out of sight.

Only he and the now dead Colonel had ever ridden Soldier before Lady Julia’s arrival. Soldier was a true cavalry charger, a huge, stubborn and willful stallion. The colonel’s son, the new Lord Barrow would not even step into Soldier’s stall, let alone mount the beast. He was not a patch on his father. The mother had protected him from becoming a horseman or anything else as far as Wallace was concerned. The new mistress however was another story entirely.

“Himself”, as Wallace always referred to “His Lordship” had returned from London several months ago with a stunning young lady on his arm. Wallace had assumed as he saw the pair step from the carriage that she was a niece or some such relation. Wallace, as adept at judging young women as he was horseflesh, whistled lowly to himself as he watched her accompany Lord Barrow into the manse. Jenny had burst out of the kitchen and into the stables perhaps fifteen minutes afterwards, aglow with a piece of gossip. Wallace was paring the hoof of “Maggie”, his favorite mare, by this time.

Jenny placed her hands behind her back and rocked back and forth from heel to toe. She began teasingly. “You’ll never guess what.”

Wallace smiled up at her and let Maggie’s hoof slip off his leather apron. He strode up to Jenny and pressed himself against her thrusting his pelvis into hers. He grabbed her arse in both hands. “You’ve now fucked everyone in the big house and in the village and are expanding your horizon into Wilton?”

“You’re bad. And, now I’m not telling you the big news.” She did nothing however to change their intimate position. Wallace just ground his now hardening member into Jenny’s belly and waited. “ The master’s taken a young wife!” Jenny blurted out and giggled. Wallace laughed aloud at the news.

“He’s over sixty and poorly. He’ll have a dick like a boiled string bean. She’ll have to come out to the stable for a real ride.” As he joked about a real ride he thrust himself lewdly at Jenny.

“Och, you, you’d be fickin’ anything that moves Wallace. I fear for the horses.”

“That’s the pot calling the kettle, Jenny.” She slapped him on the chest but they both laughed.

“We’ve a big meal to prepare. I have to get back.” Jenny twirled and scooted off to the kitchen. As she exited the stable she flipped up the back of her skirts showing her bloomers. Wallace picked up a clump of earth and tossed it after her.

Wallace ordered another pint from the attentive barmaid. He filled, tamped and lit his pipe. Three local field hands entered the pub and greeted Wallace heartily; but, after guaging his reflective mood, they seated themselves at a table across the room. To the din of clinking glasses and boisterous chatter, Wallace returned to the subject of the captivating Lady Julia.

******************

The Maid of Marvels and myself will write this thread. We hope you enjoy it.

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Some thought Lord Barrow's marriage to the beautiful Julia Warmington arranged, while others considered that it might be a marriage of convenience (hers, not his) and still a third faction believed that the elderly peer, quite near - if not in - his dotage, was desperate for an heir. No one at all entertained the notion that it was a love match. No one, that is, except for Lord Barrow himself although it was his lovely young wife alone who knew the truth of it.

"I don't approve, Julia," her mother had said when she informed her that her sights were set on a man more than forty years her senior. Her younger sister, Catherine, had not been as polite; though she had been lucky enough to make both a prestigious as well as a love match for herself. Her father, well, when he lifted his nose from the latest text he was translating from ancient Greek to English, merely murmured, "That's nice, dear." And so it was a done deed.

The wedding progressed as Julia had planned, a lavish affair that would be the envy and standard for every future bride in the whole north of England for the next decade. Maybe longer. As for the honeymoon, Lord Barrow took her on a three month tour on the continent. He had never felt better or looked younger, she told him at every convenience. He, of course, believed it and the new Lady Barrow gave him no cause not to.

When he announced that they would be returning to his estate in Lancashire, Julia was stunned. She would go mad from ennui if he took her away from the teas and balls and the companionship of civilized society, she told him. While he assured her otherwise, promising that she could invite her friends and make new ones, in a way she saw certain benefits to country living. There certainly would be no tongue-wagging if she, shall we say, did not quite conform to societal 'norms' and he did give his word that she could have whatever she required to make herself feel at home at Bray Manor.

Upon their arrival, Lady Julia found the staff in their employ to be minimal, though sufficient for their needs. The housekeeper, a Mrs. Hogarth, who had been in the employ of the Barrows for nearly forty years, assured her that there were many in the next town who would be glad of a day's pay to serve in the manor house if guests should come or parties be given. She also added, much to Julia's vexation at the sheer cheek of the woman, that she didn't suggest over-tiring Lord Barrow and suggested that Julia consider her husband's advanced age and ill health. She consoled herself with the thought that she had been permitted to retain her own ladies maid; at least Alice Sheehan knew her place and these country folk would do well to take a lesson or ten from her.

******​

During their courtship, Lord Barrow had been a proper gentleman at all times and not much had changed since their wedding. He was attentive, of course, but not in the way Julia wished he would be. Love-making, if one could call it that, was as brief as it was infrequent though he made no secret of the fact that he would like, no - required, an heir. At this rate, Julia thought to herself, it would never happen. Not that she was in a hurry to have her body stretched out of shape by a yammering brat, but there were times... Oh, yes, there were times when her body ached for something. Something more.

And so she rode.

Hard and fast.

The outwardly sedate Lady Julia Barrow thrilled to the delicious sensations that were aroused in her when she gave Soldier free rein and he galloped wildly across the fields. It left her breathless and shaking... and wanting. The feel of a strong manly touch. The pounding of a lean, muscular body against hers. Between her legs. Damn the stable master for taking liberties with her! Damn him! Damn him! Damn him!!

 

[NomDePlum123]

Lady Julia…Lady Julia… lost in thought Wallace pulled on his beer and stared over the rim of the tankard directly at the pub’s portrait of Queen Victoria. “Well, Your Majesty, if you can ‘ave Mr. Brown perhaps Lady Julia can ‘ave one Daniel Wallace.” He chuckled, swallowed, returned to his brooding.

“Her Ladyship” had insisted on visiting the stables that first day, the day of her arrival. As Wallace worked the bellows and fashioned a set of shoes for Oxer he heard the trio enter:“Himself”, a maid in waiting named Alice Sheehan and the Lady Julia. Lord Barrow moved passed the stalls with a handkerchief held to his nose. A handkerchief, which he waved at various animals and tossed off a name or two, then returned to dabbing his nostrils. Alice Sheehan also wrinkled her brow and shook her head at the assault on her senses: the oppressive odour, the clanging of the hammer and the whoosh of the bellows. Lady Julia, in contrast, was comfortable here. She breathed in the animals, the ambience. She ignored the other two and read the names over each stall running her hand over the rough-hewn beams. She anticipated enjoying all of this at her leisure after the perfunctory tour.

Wallace stepped out of the working smithy as the party rounded the center aisle of the stables. He wore no shirt and was sweating profusely. He held tongs in one hand and a shaping hammer in the other. He popped out of the door so unexpectedly and so close to the strollers that they were brought up short by his jack-in-the-box behaviour. Alice Sheehan and Lord Barrow both hopped backward in surprise the Lady Julia was trailing behind fascinated by the saddlery. Lord Barrow stammered.

“Good Lord, Wallace, you frightened the life out of me. Julia, this is Wallace. Wallace’s father, served with the Colonel and his family has been connected with Bray Manor since there was a Bray Manor. Couldn’t get by without him… Well, back at it Wallace. Don’t let us stop you.”

Alice Sheehan looked over her shoulder as Lord Barrow hurried on with the tour. Less obvious was Lady Julia whose eyes clicked to the side in order to take-in the stable master. Wallace delivered a broad and suggestive wink at Alice who brightened up perceptively and revised her first impressions of the stables. Wallace cast his wink so that its intension was dubious. Lady Julia had the distinct impression that this hired man was flirting with her.

Wallace realized now that he was smitten from that first encounter. He had once been shown an ivory cameo, delicate, almost translucent. The Colonel had brought it back from Flanders. It was the most precious thing that Wallace had ever seen. Lady Julia, walking passed him, in silhouette, had that very look.

That evening Jenny brought out a generous portion of mutton and some steamed and seasoned potatoes from the Barrow’s table. This was a common occurrence. Wallace would produce some pungent homemade cider and the pair would eat supper together.

Jenny was the closest thing to a true friend and confidant that Wallace had. They had grown up together on the estate and neither could remember a day when they had not seen the other. They had worked out their childhood curiosity about “boys and girls” with each other and still felt free as nudists with each other’s bodies. Wallace felt no jealousy and accepted all of her “friends” without reserve. Except of course for that time he almost beat Tom Little senseless because he had hurt Jenny.

As she portioned out the meal Jenny chattered like a magpie. “Well what do you think? Isn’t she the prettiest thing? Lady Paxton was the prettiest but ours outshines her like a star. I can’t wait for the first to-do. I want to show her off and stick out my tongue at that haughty Pauline. His Lordship is gob smacked over her. He reads poetry and plays the piano. He was reading a poem as I was putting away last night. He said it was by Longfellow.” Jenny reached under the table and tweaked Wallace’s privates. “ I thought of you when he said Longfellow.” She giggled as Wallace nearly sprang out of his chair. “But that Alice Sheehan… I’ll box her ears for her. Trying to tell us how to do in our own house. The nerve of that little cur. Not just me but Mrs. Hogarth as well. Well what did you think Wallace? Don’t just sit there grazing like a cow. What did you think?”

Wallace chuckled at her. “She is beautiful, Jenny. She moved about the stable like a horsewoman. I can’t wait to see her in jodhpurs and boots. She lights a fire in my belly, Jenny my love.”

Jenny arched her brows, “Who doesn’t? Oh, she’s got ribbons and trophies and pictures of herself in jumping competitions in her bedroom. Fully half her books are about horses…”

Jenny continued on but Wallace was gone. He had dreamed about bringing the “Barrow Hunter’s Cup” back home for years. Not since Lady Margaret’s time, when his father was a boy, had the trophy sat in its rightful case. Wallace had trained champion horses, coached champion riders, bred champion hunters but never won the cup. He coveted that cup. If her Ladyship could really ride. If she could learn to ride Soldier… Apart from his sexual musings these were the first thoughts he remembered having about the lovely Lady Julia.

He once again glanced at the portrait of Victoria and signaled for another pint. He was going to sit here and get right pissed. Maggie knew the way back to the stables. He was going to sit here and brood. His lust he understood. His anger puzzled him…

 

[Maid of Marvels]

The gloomy atmosphere of Bray Manor began to take its toll on Julia; there hadn't been a Mistress in the house for nearly a decade and the previous Lady Barrow had taken no interest in the furnishings or decor. What had been before had been deemed suitable, if indeed fading relics of past glories.

While she didn't regret her resolution to marry Lord Barrow, nor her achievement of that same deed, her daily forays into the surrounds of the Manor only served to increase Julia's restlessness rather than alleviate it and she began to yearn for the whirlwind atmosphere of London society - or at least the companionship it provided. While John was doting, she felt that Mrs. Hogarth resented her presence and, if not overtly, but with a sullen disapproval that maddened the new Lady of the Manor, discouraged any inference by Julia that she would like to make changes.

There were times, she had come to realize, when her requests to her husband were more readily received than others. Perhaps out of years of habit or a natural fondness, he respected Mrs. Hogarth's opinions and decisions when it came to Bray Manor, but Julia had other ideas - and a certain leverage with John that the old housekeeper would never have.

Her hair brushed and unbraided, Julia, dressed only in a silk wrapper, made her way boldly to her husband's bedroom. Unlike John's infrequent visits to her own, she entered without knocking.

"Julia!" The elderly Lord looked up over his glasses from where he sat in his bed reading, his eyes wide with surprise. "Are you well? Has something happened?"

Julia shook her head slowly, untying the sash at her waist and letting the robe slither to the floor behind her as she crossed the room. Her husband spluttered something about her catching her death of cold, but didn't argue as she pulled the covers aside and climbed into the bed, straddling his corpulent body and the book fell with a clatter to the floor, forgotten as his young bride coaxed his manhood into an erection.

The next morning arrangements were made for a well-known decorator from London to arrive within the week. The manor was to be entirely refurnished and remade into something brighter, airier, more suiting the Lord's gayer temperament and mood and Lady Barrow was to have a hunter's ball. A proper hunter's ball - the likes of which hadn't been seen in many a year. There had been another concession granted as well. Julia trembled as she pulled on the trousers that had once belonged to the Colonel - they would have to do until she had the seamstress make others for her. There would be no more side-saddle riding for her. She was going to ride astride!

The saddle that she normally used was being placed on Soldier's back when Julia arrived at the stables that morning. "Not that one, Wallace," she said in a rather imperious tone. "I'll be using what Soldier is accustomed to from now on."

The stable master's eyebrow arched as he took in her appearance. Though he didn't speak, his silence spoke volumes. At least in Julia's mind. "He's too fine a beast to be ridden side-saddle. He needs to fly."

Of this she was certain Daniel Wallace would brook no argument. Of the increased pleasure it would grant to both the stallion - and herself - she also had no doubt. It seemed as though both Soldier and she trembled with anticipation as she mounted him, her body barely settling into the saddle as she tightened her thighs around Soldier and gave him free rein.

 

[NomDePlum123]

Daniel flipped the skirts and petticoats up and over Fay’s head. Fay giggled as she fluttered her heels wantonly. Wallace had her draped over the hitching rail behind the “Willow’s Arms” and stood back to admire and then grope her dimpled arse. In his four-hour drinking binge, Fay, the barmaid, had grown increasingly alluring.

His head had reeled and his cock had stiffened almost painfully as he contemplated Lady Julia. Daniel needed a fuck. He wanted to rut like an animal. He wanted a deep-thrusting, bare backed, in-up-to-the-pubes fuck. He wanted to groan and slap his bullocks up against a sopping mound. Fay was there. Fay was willing. He wanted her. Even in his lurching and wobbling state, however, he knew that, in truth; he wanted “Her Ladyship”. He knew, as he drove his cock repeatedly into the squealing Fay that he was fantasy fucking Lady Barrow. Daniel wrapped his hands around the front of Fay’s thighs and pulled her forcefully back and onto him with each thrust. What had begun with “ooo’s” and “ow’s”, from her had gradually turned into “ahh’s” and “yes” and “just like that Daniel…right there..”. Maggie nickered beside them and glanced at the curious goings-on. Daniel fucked with abandon and indeed fucked himself into a realization. As he slammed himself viciously into the compliant Fay, he understood his anger with the Lady Julia.

He wanted her “Her Ladyship” like this, surrendering to her animal urges: out of the big house and into the stable. Her restraint, her propriety angered him. His gut ached for her and other women - even a good fuck, did not remove her from his thoughts. This infuriated Wallace.With his thumbs he spread Fay wider and fucked brutally. It was Julia’s cunny that he was pounding. It was Julia who was screaming out an orgasm. It was Julia’s internal muscles, milking his cock like undulating fingers. As he relentlessly worked his cock from tip to hilt, he pictured Julia strolling through the stables in her various outfits. He imagined himself tearing them away. He remembered last Wednesday when she burst into the barns while Daniel was fiddling with Jenny. He had approached her defiantly.He stood before her with an obvious erection straining against his pants. He allowed it to grow as she addressed him. She, flustered, had pretended not to notice. It was delicious to see her cheeks turn crimson, to see her make a quick excuse then dash out of the barn. She had heard the giggling coming from the loft but had not identified Jenny. As he recalled the incident he closed his eyes and imagined that the Lady Julia had reached into his trousers and felt then pumped his cock with her delicious hands. Now, Daniel jerked and trembled out his orgasm into Fay’s rocking cunt. The drink had helped him delay and control his emission. But, the last few weeks of obsession with “Her Ladyship”, coupled with the image he had just conjured, caused a thunderous climax.

Before he knew it, Fay was facing him, her skirts adjusted, a coy grin on her face. “I don’t know who you were fucking Daniel Wallace. But she sure got a good one. I’ll play stand-in anytime.” She chuckled and skipped back into the bar.

Lurching and weaving, Daniel rode, or rather was delivered by Maggie, back to the stables. Tomorrow, he would approach the Lady Julia with a proposition. Now that his immediate sexual desires had been appeased, he turned to the second passion, which ‘Milady’ aroused in him - his passion for the Barrow Cup. He would lay all his hopes before her and see if she was as covetous for the prize as he. She would need to be equally committed if they were to succeed. If he did not see the spark, he would drop the plan entirely and return to training others in how to win “his” cup. Maggie clopped along and he thought of “Her Ladyship” astride Soldier.

His shock at seeing her in the Colonel’s trousers and hearing that she would ride Soldier, again flashed through his memory. That is when his twin passions became personified in the Lady Julia. He had watched her that day riding astride not aside the stallion; and, with a practiced eye, he identified her as a rider: not a mechanical rider but one of that rare breed who felt and moved with the horse. Daniel could look at a novice rider, their first time on horseback and spot a true rider. She needed instruction. Like many women trained on the sidesaddle, her hands were too high, she employed her heels as guides, and her legs needed a lot of work. Still, she was a rider. That was certain. He did not scoff at the sidesaddle. It demanded a greater degree of courage and balance as far as Wallace was concerned than straddling a mount. But in order to compete with the best in a “three-day event”, she would have to relearn.

Despite his recent bout of “slap and tickle” with Fay, he found that he could not consider Lady Julia without that familiar twinge in his “John Thomas”. Even in his drunken fog, even after his rutting with Fay, he lusted for her. He longed to fuck her.

How was he to approach her tomorrow?