An Early Morning Ride Pt. 02

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##An unplanned follow-up to my previous story “An Early Morning Ride”##

A week had passed since Lady Gregory’s last early morning ride. That had awoken such strong sexual urges in Patrick, as if a seal had been broken. Primal urges that had fermented and evolved in the week since he fucked Lady Gregory, and this morning he had made preparations for her next ride. It will be rough ride.

He was already in the stables for more than an hour when Lady Gregory strolled in with a broad grin on her face.

“Morning Patrick, I hope you are well this morning”.

Doffing his cap and not raising his eyes to hers, as a good servant, he replied “Yes Ma’am, I am well”.

Lady Gregory went over to the stall of Kane the stallion. He was frisky and his huge member was hard and dripping.

“Mmm. I think we should pick back up where we left off last week Patrick. We both need it. Come on.”

Lady Gregory made her way to the ladder that led to the hayloft. She walked with a pronounced sway of her buttocks. Patrick felt blood flooding to his cock. As he followed her substantial arse up the ladder, he smiled to himself, knowing that this time, Lady Gregory’s early morning ride was going to be a very different jaunt.

In the half-light, Lady Gregory could make out some bales of hay set together in the middle of the loft, covered in a blanket. “Oh, I see you have made some preparations Patrick. You must be looking forward to this too.”

She made her way to the bales, placed her riding crop to the side, and stripped off her checked shirt revealing her large breasts, still quite firm for a middle-aged woman. The benefit of having a wet nurse thought Patrick to himself. As she wriggled out of her jodhpurs and knickers in one movement, finally fully naked, she was surprised to look up and find Patrick right in her face. Fear flashed through her whole body. She didn’t know what scared her most – the dark look in Patrick’s eyes or the knife he was holding to her throat.

“Now don’t scream, don’t call out, or I will cut your fucking throat. I am putting this bag over your head for a minute. Don’t move a fucking muscle unless I say so.”

Patrick put a small hessian sack over Lady Gregory’s head and pulled the cord tight around her neck. Now her could get to work. He bound her wrists in front of her. Then he retrieved an old broom handle from where he had hid it in the loft. He went down on his knees and spread Lady Gregory’s feet apart. His face was right at her cunt. His mouth watered, his balls pulsed, but he continued with the plan that had germinated in his head last week.

He tied her ankles to the wooden stake so that her legs were spread displaying her pink cunt.

Lady Gregory was terrified. At first she trembled all over. But this seemed too elaborate for a simple rape-murder. Her wrists and ankles hurt where they were bound firmly, but she decided to simply do what he wanted. For a lean man, he had amazing strength in his hands – and he had that knife. But try as she might, she couldn’t stop the flutters in her cunt and the wetness starting to pool there.

Next he hung the block and tackle, usually used for hauling bursa eskort bales into the loft, out of the beam directly above Lady Gregory. He hooked the rope at her wrists onto it and pulled her hands up over her head. He was amazed at how quite she remained.

He removed the bag from her head and again reminded her to remain quiet, pointing at the knife resting at his feet.

He went behind her and took something from behind the hay bales. It was a bit and bridle — small, from a pony. A red handkerchief was wrapped around the bit. He placed it in her mouth and fixed it in place with the leather bindings. She gagged a bit at first but then settled into it — she had no choice.

Patrick stood in front of her, his face directly in hers. His hazel eyes had turned black and she could feel the spittle in her face as he spoke in composed but angry tones to her.

“Last week you threatened me that if I didn’t fuck you I would lose my job and my children would starve. So against my faith, I fucked you, fucked you hard. You may have thought you had broken me. Turned me into a toy to be played with until you get bored. You fucking English bitch. You English think you have broken us Irish. But we aren’t going to take it any longer. We will break back. It may take time, but that is something we have here in this old land. And I am going to start today by breaking you like I break every mare that I have had in this stable.”

Lady Gregory gave out muffled whines as Patrick picked up her riding crop, went behind her, and covered her ample arse with blows. She writhed in pain but had to find composure as the twisting at her wrists hurt like hell.

The sight of Lady Gregory’s arse turning red and her cunt now agape and gleaming with moistness made Patrick’s cock throb. He wanted to plunge it into her wetness right now, but he knew he had to wait.

He went back around in front of her. Her eyes were watering with the pain.

“700 years of pain you English parasites have caused us. It’s about time you felt some pain too”.

Patrick flicked the leather of the riding crop and it landed on her right nipple. She winced but remained firm. He waited a minute and whipped the other. Then quickly the first one again. He alternated between the two for what must have been 10 minutes. Varying the time between blows.

Her nipples were now swollen and leaking blood. Tears flowed from her eyes and drool from her mouth clamped on the bit.

Patrick turned his attention to her gaping cunt and the crop flicked across it. She tried to close her legs but that just made the ropes at her ankles bite. He again varied his flicks at her cunt, and her clit was now very pronounced, erect even. At times he simply placed the leather of the crop on her lips and rubbed her lips and clit. The leather became sopping wet. Finally he placed the leather in his mouth and sucked off her juices.

“Good girl. You are starting to appreciate who is boss around here”.

Patrick hunkered down a bit and placed his full lips on a cracked, swollen nipple. He suckled like he had seen his seven children do on his deceased wife. He felt her writhe bursa escort bayan in pain at first but she then settled. He could taste blood in his mouth but he was sure there was a slight sweetness too. Could he one day milk her? That thought made his whole body tingle.

Lady Gregory did not give her breast to any of her kids so this was a totally new experience for her. At first extremely painful, but then a stillness settled over her. She felt both motherly and so unbelievably horny. She now just wanted this man’s cock deep inside her, despite the pain he was inflicting on her.

Patrick reluctantly pulled his mouth away from the succulent breast. He needed to proceed with his plan.

He went to the rope he had secured, holding her tied hands over her head. With his wiry strength he hauled her up a foot into the air. She wriggled in pain with her whole body weight focused through her bound wrists. Patrick knew he had to be quick as she couldn’t withstand that for long.

He went deeper into the loft and brought out a trestle and a rounded log. He placed the trestle in front and behind Lady Gregory’s swinging legs and placed the rounded log across them, just inches below her English cunt.

“You wanted an early morning ride, ride this you bitch”.

Lady Gregory was relieved to feel Patrick lower her, even though her wet cunt now lay astride a wooden pole of some sort, about as thick as a strong man’s arm. She felt relief as her arms were no longer under that immense strain. And it wasn’t immediately uncomfortable being splayed around the rounded, smooth wood.

“You feel the relief, don’t you. But you ride your mare hard. Drive her to the edge. I see it when I brush her down after your rides. Cuts and scrapes all over her legs. Breathing like she is giving birth. The steam rising off her. So now, I want to see you ride my wooden pony like that.”

Patrick winched her up and when her cunt was a few inches clear of the wood, he let her drop.

Lady Gregory felt a tremendous pain shoot through her body. She tried with all her might to clench her thighs together but couldn’t due to her splayed legs, held tight at the ankles. She now rested with her sore cunt pressing with her whole body weight on the smooth wood. That was beginning to become a dull but intense pain until she was distracted by the whipping blows raining down on her already tender arse.

Patrick was whipping her arse with all his strength. “Your mare comes back in, covered with welts. You don’t spare your crop, now feel what your mare feels.”

When the blows stopped, Patrick returned to the front of her, took the rope and winched her up, looking directly in her eyes, he spat “Another fucking needless jump”.

Lady Gregory felt such pain as she landed on the log. But her fear and anger were starting to recede. In their place, regret was starting to fill her mind, and heart. She shouldn’t have threatened Patrick and his family from her position of privilege, just as the English gentry had done to their Irish servants for hundreds of years. She shouldn’t have treated her mare like a mere toy, to be whipped görükle escort and spurred over dangerous jumps. She was beginning to feel she deserved everything Patrick was doing to her. And that made her sore cunt so wet.

After a few more painful “jumps”, Patrick removed the “pony”, untied her ankles, unhooked her wrists from the block and tackle, and untied them. The brown rope was scarlet where it had cut into her wrists.

“Now, on your knees over the bales, it is my turn for a ride.”

She did as told, all her resistance having melted away. She now even looked forward to what was to come. Knowing she deserved everything she would get.

Patrick gazed at the swollen wet cunt presented to him. His cock was so hard and dripping wet. But first, he attached a set of reins to her bit.

Patrick finally released his hard cock from his trousers. Jesus, his balls were pulsating. As he slid his cock deep into her, he could feel her wince and contract with pain. He had not one drop of pity for her.

Taking the reigns in his hands he pounded into her and pulled her head back towards himself at intervals.

“You English bitch. I am going to fill you with my Irish seed. You think you are past it, but I am going to breed you. I will cuckold the Lord of the manor as the English have cuckolded the whole of Ireland.”

Lady Gregory couldn’t help herself — once she got over the pain of Patrick’s first few thrusts, she began to enjoy it. She found herself willing Patrick on. Yes, fuck me. Fuck me for the 700 years of repression. And yes, seed me. Let that prick of a cheating husband of mine raise a bastard.

As Patrick’s seed flooded the entrance to her womb, she came harder than ever before. She felt a sudden, uncontrollable expulsion of liquid from where she would normally pee. But she knew this was something else. She trembled with ecstasy, which drowned out the pain as Patrick withdrew his cock from her mangled cunt.

Patrick watched as some of his huge cum load trickled out of her dripping wet cunt. His balls were soaked from whatever she had sprayed all over him.

He helped her up and took the bit out of her mouth. She stared back at him with a look he had only ever seen from one person before — his late wife. Is that a loving look, he asked himself.

“Now, you are truly well broken-in. Remember, this is between us. And I want you here every Friday morning for more lessons”.

With that, he turned on his heels and disappeared down the ladder and out into the fields.

Next Friday morning, he waited, not knowing if she would show. At least she hadn’t turned him in after last Friday’s encounter.

Sure enough, she turned up with a knowing smile, and a “Good morning Patrick”.

Only 3 months later, Lady Gregory was large with pregnancy. It was the talk of the town, how a woman her age could be with child. And when he was born with dark features and dark eyes, the talk of the locals was that an old legend must be true. There was a dark ancient spirit on the prowl and he was finally wreaking his revenge on those rich English bastards.

Lady Gregory again gave the child to a wet nurse. But her milk didn’t go to waste. She had Patrick moved to a position within the house, where he could regularly suckle her milk. His eyes turning jet black as he did so. With his cock feeding vital essence back into her willing cunt at the same time. A closed circuit of love, lust, and control.

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