- by Mr. Bushida

Joseph strode to the wall rack that held his favorite implements of discipline, and chose a set of brand new nose reins he had wanted to try out…to break-in so to speak. They were new…hard plastic instead of ivory…and touted by the Korean manufacturer to have the slightest give, which supposedly offered even finer mare-head control. They were no less expensive, the major expense being in the fine leather of the supple reins…so supple they could substitute for a sulky whip with a hard rippling across the buttocks…

Beth almost smiled. She didn’t feel she was being punished…just honored with the Master’s favorite tack. The pain and discomfort it would cause her was secondary.

It was nearing time for the Frankfurt Dressage trials, and Eleanor was feeling guilty as to the condition of her ankle. She had been doing better in each successive event, yet a blue ribbon seemed elusive. That her infirmity would be the excuse Joseph needed to take Beth to Germany for a sure championship plagued our wounded heroine.

At dinner one evening, between bites of steak put into her mouth by William, she ventured, "Master Joseph, m…may I ask…a question…sir?" A little surprised but always thrilled to have Eleanor extemporize, he nodded his permission.

"Oh…sir, I was just thinking…I know I shouldn’t be…th…thinking, but I you thought if it at all possible, I think I might be able to go to Frankfurt." William broke into a mocking laugh at the thought of it, and Joseph glowered at him.

"I wouldn’t be laughing so hard young man since it has been your job to work my sweet Eleanor in the pasture to hasten her rehabilitation…maybe you have been too sparing of the whip if you think her sweet suggestion is so ridiculous!" he bellowed!

Poor Eli didn’t know what to think, what Pandora’s box she had opened. Certainly getting young William in trouble was a bad idea. But it was too late to take it all back, and anything seemed worth it to keep Beth out of her way.

Joseph dismissed William, and although she had hardly eaten anything, Joseph motioned for her to rise and sit on his lap. His demeanor was hard for her to read, though he took her head in his hands and took her nose into his mouth, ring and all. And following with a reassuring peck on the lips, he said, "Are you sure you are up to it my darling…cast and all?"

Young Joseph Damon entered his Aunt Judy’s room at the Chateau without knocking. It was only 10:00 PM. She sat before the make-up table in her green, satin robe, frozen…back straight. It was the ‘seated at attention’ pose she had learned so early in her enslavement twenty-odd years ago.

Her young master seemed a little agitated as he stood behind her. He ran his finger across her neck and just under the collar, feeling the grooves left in her womanly shoulders by a lifetime of pressure from the bra straps that held her ample breasts.

"Judy…you have served me very well for a very long time… His fingers moved to graze her cheek. "I wonder sometimes if you know how much I appreciate it all? The hard work you put in back in the workroom…the way you let so little a boy ride your back like a pony… I was surely a very bad young man!"

Joseph’s hands were entwined in Judith’s hair. She was terrified as never before, which was saying quite a lot. His grip tightened as he spoke in a tone that was more nostalgic than threatening. "When Eleanor came to the ranch in Montana, your pony girl duties became rather light, but I was so very proud of you when you won those races for me in the old days! You were truly magnificent, the way you moved that slightly-too-big backside for me under the lash."

She knew this sadist all too well. Being her young nephew just made it worse…

The next morning, Judy was roused unexpectedly early by William and taken to the stables to be washed down…a little more thoroughly, she thought, than if she were just being prepped for the inevitable sulky tack. But when the venerable Mr. Bushida entered, as she stood there dripping in her nakedness, a chill ran through her as never before. All the years of servitude did nothing to ease the sense of vulnerability she felt right then.

The stern but agonizingly polite old man stood before her, simply put his finger under her sweet, shining nose to lift her eyes toward his. It was as if her nakedness meant nothing to either of them, as she felt more indignant than shamed. She would never lose that touch of defiance in her desperate attempt to maintain some sense of dignity.

In his slightly broken English, Mr. Bushida began, "Missy Judith, I respectfully must inform you of which I hope not to be too, too terrible of news. Your kindly master has sold you to me… for the remainder of your contract…only about eighteen months now I understand it."

Judy’s breath quickened, as she feared her heart would pound right out of her bosom. Her jet-black hair was still wet and particularly curly…the hair that she was allowed to dye to cover the increasing gray.

"You come with me to Japan to serve me as very special house guest and ceremonial pony-mare. I treat you with respect you warrant as Master Joseph’s aunt, but I assure you, your back will feel the whip at the slightest sign of rebellion!" Mr. Bushida’s English was not perfect but his message was clear.

Judith’s contract, signed twenty-eight years previously with Joseph’s father, her brother-in-law, had no prohibition against her being sold like so much personal property. But with so little time to go, having essentially spent her lifetime in bondage to the Damons, both father and son, she had hoped this day would never come. Yet, she had witnessed the bulk of Joseph’s slaves sold off in recent years without the slightest hesitation on her nephew’s part. She harbored no illusions that her status was any different with the young man.

Of course, due to the intricate rules laid down by the WWW, a woman could not be sold so simply. To avoid the entire process of an ‘Offering’ and all it entailed, Joseph had simply initialed an agreement that would ‘lease’ Judy to Mr. Bushida in perpetuity. It was not about the money; these were two extremely rich men…

With his strong practiced fingers, Mr. Bushida forced apart a large ‘self-tapping’ bull-nose ring with sharp little pointed ends and installed it Judith’s bewildered face. He placed an oversized raincoat over her shoulders and escorted her to his waiting limousine. About eight feet from the car door, Mr. Bushida read Judith’s body language and before the long journey allowed her to raise the coat to her waist while she bent her knees a little and peed just to the side of the perfectly shaped hedge.

Sulky duty was almost always rough, dirty and exhausting duty. It was nothing like the fabled ponygirl’s pull through the grounds with a tall feather frond on her bridle and with some spoiled Master or Mistress showing off for his or her friends…

The nose-reins were usually the last of her tack to be applied. The use of the nose-rein shafts was unbridled sadism, and even sweet Eli had trouble rationalizing their use… Steadying her head with a firm grip on the bridle, Joseph inserted the ivory shafts fully and expertly up into the far reaches of Eleanor’s nose. These were a new pair from a new supplier, a rich creamy ivory just a millimeter thicker than the usual ones. And no matter how obedient and how sweetly she would proffer her face to him as he approached with these shafts, she needed to have her head held tightly. Even Eleanor could not hold still of her own determination for this extreme violation.

When Joseph had completed this detestable task and she had delightfully shaken off the indescribable discomfort and had rearranged her breathing, he laid the reins over her back and down the deep crevice between her expanded buttocks…

"Your bottom seems at bit fuller, Eleanor, than I remember it from the last time I viewed you in this posture! Have you been eating a few too many sweets while I was away? Or is Madame Behl’s French cooking getting the better of you…It’s time to do a little work, my sweet darling." he whispered.

The mature and wonderfully courageous woman crouched, bent in half in full subjugation…a bondage that was heart-stopping for even her young Master to take in after all these years. She shuffled a little on her too-high heels making the tall thin wheels of the sulky rock back a forth as she shook her entire womanly body in astonishing ways aimed at settling the leather straps into their all-too familiar places…the movements of some bizarre unabashed belly dancer….

The story continues: look for Chateau Damon II, Letters from Aunt Judy