Page 56 of Innocence Tamed
“Relax into the saddle,” Pierre instructed, walkingÉtoilein a slow circle around the paddock’s perimeter. “Feel her movement beneath you. Let your body move with hers.”
I tried to focus on his instructions, on the gentle rhythm ofÉtoile’s walk, anything to distract myself from my complete exposure. The sunshine felt warm on my bare skin, the slight breeze caressing my nipples into hardened peaks. Even in the midst of my embarrassment, I found myself relaxingincrementally, my muscles loosening as I adjusted to the horse’s gait.
“Very good,” Pierre praised, his voice carrying easily in the quiet afternoon. “Now we’ll try a posting trot. WhenÉtoilespeeds up, you’ll feel a stronger bounce. Rise slightly in the stirrups with every other beat.”
Before I could protest, he clicked his tongue andÉtoileobediently increased her pace. The change in movement was immediate and dramatic—each step sent a jolt through my core, the leather saddle pressing rhythmically against my exposed sex. I gasped at the sensation, my hands tightening on the reins.
“Up, down, up, down,” Pierre called, setting the rhythm. “Rise and sit with her movement.”
I struggled to comply, my naked body bouncing awkwardly as I attempted to master the unfamiliar motion. Each time I sat back down, the saddle made contact with my swollen, sensitive flesh, sending jolts of unwanted pleasure up my spine. My breasts bounced freely with the motion, adding to my mortification.
“Your posture, Audrey,” Pierre reminded me, his voice firm but encouraging. “Back straight, heels down.”
I tried to correct myself, acutely conscious of how the position thrust my breasts forward, displaying them even more prominently. The combination of physical exertion, exposure, and the rhythmic pressure against my sex was creating a dangerous situation—I could feel myself growing wetter with each passing moment, my arousal building despite my shame.
“That’s better,” Pierre called out, walking alongside asÉtoilecontinued her steady trot around the paddock. “Now look ahead, between her ears. A rider must always look where she’s going.”
I forced my gaze forward, which meant I could no longer watch for potential observers. The vulnerability of this position—naked, exposed, unable to monitor who might be watching—sent another surge of shameful excitement through me. My pussy throbbed against the leather saddle, each contact sending sparks of pleasure through my core.
“Monsieur,” I gasped, struggling to maintain my composure asÉtoile’s movement continued to stimulate me. “I… may I stop, please?”
Pierre studied me with knowing eyes, a slight smile playing at his lips. “You’re becoming aroused, aren’t you,ma petite? The saddle against your bare cunt is making you wet.”
His crude observation, spoken loudly enough that anyone nearby could have heard, made me whimper with humiliation. I couldn’t deny it—the evidence of my arousal was likely visible on the saddle beneath me, my inner thighs slick with desire.
“Please,” I whispered.
“Circle once more,” Pierre instructed, ignoring my plea. “Then we’ll try a canter.”
Before I could protest, movement on the terrace caught my eye. My heart nearly stopped as I recognized the distinctive figures of the Duboises, emerging with what appeared to be a tray of refreshments. From their position, they would have a perfect view of my naked form astrideÉtoile.
“Pierre,” I hissed urgently. “The Duboises—they can see me!”
“Of course they can,” he replied calmly. “They’re bringing us lemonade. How thoughtful of them.”
I wanted to die of shame. I could feelMonsieurDubois’ gaze on me even from this distance, his dignified posture giving nothing away as he observed his employer’s naked American girl receiving her ‘riding lesson.’ Beside him,MadameDubois set the tray on the terrace table, then turned to watch our progress in the paddock.
“Stop!” I cried out, unable to bear it any longer. “I don’t want to continue the lesson, Pierre. Please!”
His expression changed instantly, his eyes narrowing as he looked up at me. The transformation was startling—from encouraging riding instructor to dominant master in the space of a heartbeat.
“What did you say?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft.
I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. “I… I don’t want to continue. Not with them watching.”
Pierre’s lips curved into a cold smile that made my stomach clench. “I see. You’ve decided to disobey me.” He tugged gently onÉtoile’s bridle, bringing the horse to a complete stop. “Very well. For talking back to me in such a manner, you will be caned before dinner tonight. In front of the Duboises.”
My heart stuttered in my chest. “Caned?”
“Yes,” Pierre confirmed, as if he were talking about the weather. “Six strokes, I think. Delivered while you’re bent naked over the whipping block in the library.”
The image flashed in my mind with terrible clarity—myself, stripped bare in the formal library, the distinguished servants watching as Pierre disciplined me with the cane. The thoughtshould have horrified me. Instead, I felt a rush of wetness between my thighs so intense it made me gasp.
Pierre noticed immediately. His hand reached up, sliding between my spread legs and the saddle. His fingers found my slick folds, exploring the evidence of my arousal with a knowing touch.
“As I suspected,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “The thought of your punishment excites you almost as much as your exposure.”
I whimpered as his skilled fingers found my swollen clit, rubbing it firmly, and with maddening precision. The combination of his touch and the continued pressure of the saddle against my sensitive inner lips was overwhelming.Étoileshifted beneath me, the slight movement adding another layer of stimulation.
