It started, as so many of these things do, with a night where we had drunk far too much Prosecco and been giggling and joking about, as girls do. Hilary had just won a major event, so we had bedded down the horses and decided to celebrate. Then, the conversation turned to our attributes, specifically we were goading Sarah saying she was a natural sub and that she could never switch.
Sarah lives for the humiliation and bondage that she receives mostly from Hilary, who is mostly our very dominant mistress but also from me. In fact, she woke me just the night before begging to be hogtied and gagged, and I was more than happy to oblige and leave her struggling in her bunk in the back of our shared horsebox.
Sarah had smiled, laughed along and then calmly said she could show us how to be a proper messy Domme. We had laughed, snorting, spitting sparkling wine at the mere suggestion.
However, we weren't laughing now...
I woke with a banging head, I groaned and tried to roll over and it was then that I found I had been handcuffed to my bed. I panicked tugging at the steel holding my wrists apart to the corners of the metal frame and my ankles similarly. I tried to shout out and found that what I thought was a drink related dry mouth was actually a mouth stuffed with what I would later discover were Sarah’s used panties held in place with a filthy set of exercise bandages from the tack room.
I slammed my head down on the bed in defeat. It was clear there was nothing I could do.
HIlary woke up with a start. She was standing up, dressed in her dressage tailcoat, her silk top hat and long leather riding boots. It seemed that whoever had dressed her had left out the rest of her clothing.
She could not move, her arms went behind her back and were tied with an obscene amount of bright orange baler, twine her ankles had been trussed up to a broom, so she could not close her legs.
Sat before her was Sarah. “Oh, hello sleepyhead,” she sneered. Hilary did a double take. Sarah was her groom and permanently lived in scruffy jodhpurs, green wellies and polo shirts. Today, her employee was clad in the tightest latex catsuit she had ever seen, it showed off every inch of Sarah’s muscular body and shone in the sunshine, the deep red colour and the frame it enclosed were intoxicating. Yes, Sarah had been Hilary’s lover and often we would share a bed and each other's affections, however she had never seen her in this light and the visage was causing her to get wet with anticipation.
“Sarah...” Hilary had tried to sound forceful but had stuttered and trembled as she spoke. “What are you doing?”
Sarah laughed, picking up a long schooling whip, teasingly running the tassel at the end across Hilary’s flat stomach and nipples. “Whatever I want...” She smiled. “I am going to break you and then I will do the same to your little girlfriend...” Hilary shuddered, lost for words.
I was clearly trapped in my bed. The handcuffs were not going to come off, I tried to focus my eyes, my head banging. Looking round, I saw that there was a piece of paper propped up on my bedside table.
Bitch
I am sorry to leave you, however I have matters to attend to. If you wish to entertain yourself, I will leave matters in your own hands.
Sarah
What? Matters in my own hands? Then I realised, looking across, in my left hand there was a piece of baler twine knotted to one of my fingers. In my predicament I had not noticed that, to be honest, it wasn’t the first thing on my mind. In my right hand there was a small remote control, with a single button. Okay... So it was clear, if I wanted to be entertained I would need to do something with these two items.
I toyed with the idea for a while, what surprises awaited me if I followed instructions, but I was locked to my bed for goodness knows how long... I lifted my right hand to the limit of what I could reach within the cuffs. What the hell. I pressed the remote.
The effect was instant, the whirr was instantly recognisable as my Hitachi, so that was what was attached to my inner thigh. Oh, goodness, this was something I just couldn’t resist, the powerful motion directly on my clit, oh you bitch... Sarah knew me too well as I writhed, already dampening and starting to find the fiendish effects of the beast between my legs. Oh, God. As the minutes passed my body tingled, I was getting closer and closer to cumming and was ready to scream, if I had been able to, of course. Just as I teetered on the very edge of a massive orgasm my body ready to explode, it stopped.
I gasped, pressing the button again but there was nothing. I writhed, but the moment was ebbing away. I swore, pulled against the steel cuffs and eventually started to cry in frustration. I don’t know how much time passed, but it was enough for me to wallow in a deep enough pool of self-pity for my pleasure to have dissipated when, without warning, the vibrations started again. Oh! Shit... I suddenly realised, this was the point, oh no...
We had joked about the fiendish item we had seen on Fetlife. Yes, there on my finger was the sensor, it measured heart rate, apparently and promised the ultimate edging pleasure. Well, this was no pleasure but I realised what I was in for, failed orgasm time after time... I could weep. I tried to fight it, but my body failed to listen to my brain, and I was soon wet and begging for release again. As it stopped again I growled into my gag.
Then I realised there was the string, maybe this was pain and pleasure, perhaps this would be something nice. I tugged the taut twine pulling against a weight. My body was hit with a flow of freezing cold white slop. Oh, God.! Was this melted ice cream, no... The smell... Oh, shit, this was glue... And, if there was glue...
The tipping bucket tripped the second which hit me with a ‘whump’, it looked like dust but I knew better. This was ‘the stuff’. Sarah and I had been clipping horses, a thankless task which left you covered in tiny clipped hairs which got in your clothes and itches like hell. We had joked about making a powerful irritant, clipped horse hair, itching powder, pepper and corn dust. It would irritate your nose and make your body feel like it was on fire. We had even made a tiny pot and tried it out, it had been sheer hell and you couldn’t even wash it off as it stuck like... Oh, Crap...
I had been covered in glue and then the world's biggest batch of what could only be described as the world’s most evil itching powder. By the feel of it Sarah had been playing with the recipe as my quim was now on fire, the evil bitch had added chilli powder.
My skin itches all over, I struggle, but I'm trapped, and then the HItachi starts again... Fuuuuuck! Oh, my God. The combination of every nerve ending in my body being alight and this attacking me... I was sweating and swearing, knowing that as soon as I came close it would... Shit, it clicked off... I gasped, trying to gulp in air before it started again. Oh, no. Not so soon...
“Now Sarah...” Hilary gulped. This was a complete reversal of fortunes. Sarah was a natural sub, born to be humiliated and to beg for more, damn it, she even wore a steel collar around her neck, declaring that she was my property. Yet, here I was, she had an evil glint in her eye, she was enjoying this.
And what was my body doing, I was positively dripping, yes, my groom looked hot as fuck in that cat suit. Oh, to be allowed to polish that with my tongue. What the fuck... Where the hell did that thought come from. Oh, to be beneath her feet... What was my brain doing? I was the one in charge, oh but to be dominated by her, oh the shame...
Sarah was laughing, she dipped her finger into my cunt and sucked the juices from her gloved hand. My juices were running down my thighs.
“What the hell have you done to me?” I stuttered.
Then I saw the pot... Oh, shit!
It had been an advert in a horse magazine of all places, a new herbal product which could be used in stud work. Basically, where you had mares which were resistant to the stallion's attention, there was a risk that they could kick out and damage what could be millions of pounds worth of horseflesh. Therefore, you could feed the mare this new product, and she would basically become an equine slut. It ensured she remained in season and made her more receptive to the attention of the male horse.
I had, now I realise rather stupidly, joked it would be fun to see what that would be like used on humans. If this was to be believed, the experiment was underway. Suddenly my mind was no longer my own. Hell, I had always fancied my groom and lover, but now I was a drooling wreck (from both ends...)
She was the complete and total object of my desire and, if I had not been tied up, I would have been kneeling before her. I desperately tried to put the thought from my mind, but my hormones were going haywire. I had to stop myself begging her for attention.
Sarah approached me, she was holding a pie, did I want the pie. “Yes miss...” What! Stop it... As she stepped closer, I thought, what the hell... I’m going to enjoy the ride, and released the last of my inner control. Sarah slowly, lovingly pushed the pie into my face. The cool cream engulfed me and I felt drips down my naked chest, I gasped as a blob of icy cream, struck my nipple like a lover.
She smeared the pie around my face and stepped back. The taste of pie, oh goodness this was going to become a Pavlovian response and I would need to be restrained on entering a bakery. Another pie, cherry this time, and again slowly applied. As my world went dark within the creamy filling, I felt every nerve ending tingle. Oh, this was literally the most delicious foreplay. She stepped back, no doubt watching the pie drip from my features.
“Beg...”
The single word, it was the final handover of power. I gasped and pleaded, “Please miss. Pie me. Take me...” Sarah obliged with a smile on her face.
“Good girl...”
Oh, God!, those two words filled me with a wash of warm pride. I was pleasing my mistress, I was good... It was all I craved right now. Here I was, an Olympic standard equestrian who could command the complete attention of half ton stallions and all I wanted was praise from my groom as she toyed with me. She kissed me and I thought my heart would explode with joy. Her lip gloss and cherry pie would be a taste I would savour forever.
She took out a pot with a brush. Taking out the brush, she let it drip, chocolate? Oh, yes, that wonderful smell. It was warm, melted... Oh, fuck! She swirled the brush around my nipples. Coating the skin with warm, heavy chocolate. Pouring the pot she dribbled more on before taking me in her mouth. She looked into my eyes as her lips approached my nipple, the moment she sucked on the sweet chocolate I could have collapsed.
Oh, my body was totally in her command now, she sucked and nibbled as if I was the world's most exclusive confectionary, first one and then the next, caressing my chest and sucking at me.
Normally, a messy session for me would have me in charge and it would involve covering my two lovers in stupid amounts of mess. Here, this beautiful creature was showing me that less could be more. She stepped away as she felt my body approach my climax, leaving me to struggle in my bindings, desperate for more.
She smiled, lifting my top hat. Not my antique one I wore for dressage, but a cheap replacement, which was just as well as I watched her fill it with a bucket of marshmallow fluff. She popped the now full hat on my head, first the weight and then the slow dribble of sticky goo, dripping onto my shoulders and face.
The progress of the marshmallow was almost glacial but insistent as it dribbled from my head and started to cover my face. Sarah took another bucket, dipping her hand in, showing me the stretchy white mass before starting to caress me with handfuls. It was warm, and she started to cover my exposed chest before kneeling, sliding off my boots and massaging my feet with the warm, heavy fluff.
Looking down, seeing a fit, rubber clad girl kneeling before me, lovingly rubbing warmed marshmallow fluff into my toes was enough to cause me to have my first orgasm. I shuddered as my mind and body overloaded. Sarah smiled, smearing goo up my legs, pausing at my inner thighs.
If you had walked in on the scene now you would have seen me in a tailcoat and top hat as a near white statue with the most beautiful girl in my world kneeling before me. However, the power dynamic was not how it looked. I was totally in her control.
She filled my left riding boot with what looked like golden syrup and forced my foot into it, I sunk into the sticky goo which clung to my feet, embracing me. She did the same with the second boot, soon I was trapped in a sticky prison.
I had never been a pain slut, so, as Sarah approached with nipple clamps, I started to shake my head. She ignored me and soon there was a delicious tingle as she closed them around my nipples. Oh, God? I was learning so much about myself.
My hands were tied behind me, so I couldn’t remove the tail coat if I tried. However, Sarah made it clear it was coming off. She grabbed a sleeve and it tore away at the shoulder, repeating this for the second sleeve before taking tailors, scissors and chopping the pieces until I was naked bar the hat and boots.
I watched as the coat lay in tatters before me, suddenly realising, as Sarah stood behind me that this had left my bottom exposed. The first strike of my riding crop stung and I burst into tears.
Sarah stopped, throwing down the crop and taking my head in her hands, wiping my tears which were leaving tracks in the pie on my face. I told her it was just a shock for me and told her to go on.
The second blow hurt, but the feeling was changing, there was a warmth as the crop struck me, the flesh tingling in a way it hadn’t before. She gave me six blows, but I was begging for more.
Instead, she promised to cool my skin, and she did, grabbing sloppy handfuls of ice cream which was melting in the sun and rubbing it into my bottom. The cool cream on my burning welt marks was incredible.
Sarah smiled, kissing me deeply and I came again. I had been simmering on the edge of orgasm but this was almost as if I had been granted permission to release. She cut the baler twine holding my hands and released the broom. I stepped towards her, embracing her, kissing. As I stepped back I saw her rubber covered in white slop. She laughed and took my hand.
Turning the corner I gasped. There was a paddling pool in the outdoor arena, set up on the soft sand and it was filled, almost to the brim with white mass. She nodded when I asked, a pool of marshmallow fluff. Well, there goes the winnings from the last show, but money well spent.
Sarah stood me with my back to the pool, standing in front of me she kissed me before shoving me back. I fell, my legs hitting the inflatable side of the pool before I hit the marshmallow fluff and sunk slowly into its waiting embrace. Looking up I saw Sarah above me before she sunk into the slop beside me.
It was a struggle to move as the fluff gripped us, but Sarah was able to get between my legs. I gasped as she hungrily sucked at me.
I must have passed out, as when I came to Sarah was sitting in the fluff cradling my head. We were covered from head to toe, totally unrecognisable as humans. She stood up and helped me to my feet. She backed away a couple of feet before crouching. Oh, I get the idea... Sadly not fast enough as she charged me, pile-driving me into the soft fluff.
We tussled. It wasn’t a fair wrestling match as I was exhausted, so I submitted to her. Her prize and mine, was revealed as she opened a hidden zipper in the crotch of her catsuit and knelt above my face. I sucked at her sweet marshmallow.
It took hours to wash off. Mainly because, every time we were clean, I would drag Sarah back to the pool, and we would wrestle again.
Eventually we cleaned up. We covered the pool and slipped into bed.
“Shit!” Sarah woke with a start and untangled herself from my arms
“What’s up?” I was groggy. After all It was three in the morning.
I followed her to the second bedroom and gasped.
“She forgot me...”
“Has anyone told you that you are very attractive when you sulk...”
I gasped as Hilary winked at me.
Both Sarah and Hilary had been deeply apologetic when they stepped into my room. I had passed out some hours before and come round just to be tormented again. They had quickly released me before Sarah had bathed me. However, my skin still itched.
“Do you know the best cure for itchy skin?” HIlary faced me, we were back in our work-clothes of breeches and polo shirts. She reached across, tearing the polo shirt from my body and ordering me to kick off my boots.
“No, what?” I was grumpy but stopped as I turned the corner. The sight of Sarah tied to a fence post covered in a glistening coating of glue and ‘The Stuff’ with the Hitachi buzzing was one thing, and it did make me smile as she had the largest subby grin on her face. The sight of the paddling pool was the other thing which made me smile.
“The best cure for itchy skin is a bath...” Hilary grabbed me in her arms, lifting me up and ran towards the pool. “Geronimo!”
Do you know what, she was right, A three-hour bath in marshmallow fluff with my lover really took my mind off my itchy skin. And, when we untied, the now subservient Sarah, she agreed.
The fact that our morning tea had been liberally dosed with hormone granules had nothing to do with it I’m sure, but as we lay exhausted staring at the stars in a pool of fluff on a summers evening, the only thing we wanted to know was when Sarah wanted to switch again.