Lord Danvers strolled into his stables with a bemused look on his face.
"Who," he asked of his head groom, "is that behemoth out there, lunging Spartacus?"
"Ah, sir," came the answer. "That would be Tom. You remember you told me to get a new groom now that Billy has gone and left us?"
"Yes, I remember," said Lord Danvers dryly. "I guess I was expecting someone who looks more like the rest of the grooms, I guess. Tom seems sort of..." His voice trailed away and he waved his hand in the air with an indication of puzzlement.
"You'll be meaning Tom is sort of large, or be you meaning that he's sort of ugly?" asked the head groom, a smile on his face. "You'll be finding that he's large enough to keep the worst of your horses in line, and god love you, the horses don't mind his looks. He's an excellent groom, I assure you."
"I guess he must be, or you wouldn't have hired him," returned Lord Danvers. "He'll just take a bit of getting used to. Anyway, my daughter is visiting and she wants to go riding later. Will you organise a horse and a groom to accompany her, please. About two o'clock."
"Yes, sir. We'll be ready for her when she comes down."
"And make sure she doesn't try to switch her horse to one of the bloody stallions. She is not to ride them."
"Yes, sir. I'll warn the boys."
- - -
"And who might you be?" asked Lady Deborah of the groom waiting with the horses.
"I'm Tom, Milady," Tom replied. "I'm the new groom. I've been told to escort you on your ride."
Deborah looked at the groom. Big and ugly and gormless, she decided. "Is that my mount?" she demanded, indicating the pretty filly waiting patiently.
At the groom's nod, she shook her head impatiently. "She'll never do. Switch the saddle to another horse. Spartacus will do nicely."
"Yes, milady," said Tom. "That is to say, no milady."
"What do you mean, yes and no?"
"I mean that I'd like to oblige you, milady, but milord left strict instruction that you was to ride that horse and that I'm not to change her, no matter what you say, milady."
"Well, milord is not here, is he," came the sarcastic rejoinder, "and that leaves me in charge, doesn't it?"
"Yes, milady," mumbled Tom.
"So change the saddle over, and make it snappy."
"No, milady. I was told not to. You is to ride that horse and if you want to ride, that horse is what you will be riding," replied Tom, determined to stay with his instructions.
Deborah glared at Tom, but gave up on the horse exchange. "Like trying to argue with a gorilla, talking to that man," she muttered to herself, missing the quick smile that flitted across Tom's face. Resignedly she walked over to her horse to mount.
"What's the name of my horse?" she asked. "I haven't seen her before."
"Like me, she's new here. Her name is Agnes."
Deborah stared at Tom. "A sweet little filly like this, a thoroughbred, and someone named her Agnes?"
"Yes'm," said Tom. "Not my fault. I didn't name her."
Deborah raised her eyebrows to the skies. Surrounded by idiots and fools, what could you do?
Mounting swiftly, she rode off, Tom trailing behind.
Deborah enjoyed riding, and she knew all the better riding trails in the area. She settled down into a canter, heading for some stretches where she could let Agnes flow into a full gallop.
For the next hour or so Deborah roamed the old paths. It was a while since she'd been home and it was fun getting acquainted with her old haunts. Knowing that time was passing Deborah finally decided to head for home. Turning into a shortcut she knew, she was about to canter down it when Tom called out to her.
"Excuse me milady," he called. "It is inadvisable to take that path. There are several jumps along there that aren't suitable for Agnes."
"Nonsense." Deborah dismissed the advise, pressing Agnes into a canter. Pounding along the track she was soon at the first hedge that she would have to take. Letting Agnes have her head they cleared it neatly, and Deborah smiled, although the hedge had seemed larger than she remembered.
Now they were at the second hedge, and Deborah lost her smile as she realised that this hedge was definitely larger than she remembered. Agnes tried, but the hedge was just a bit too large, causing her to stumble when she came down on the other side. Feeling Agnes falling, Deborah bailed out, pushing herself well clear of the falling horse.
Tom, coming up fast from behind, saw Deborah jump and hit the ground hard, legs and arms going in all directions. Agnes hit the ground, rolled over and was up and dancing nervously around, apparently unharmed.
Hurrying across to where Deborah lay, Tom couldn't help but admire the long slender limbs now on display, Deborah's riding dress seeming to have wrapped itself around her waist. Tom swiftly started checking for any signs of injury.
Deborah hadn't lost consciousness, merely being slightly stunned and winded. Gasping for breath, she started to sit up.
"Hold it, milady," came Tom's urgent voice. "I just need to check how you are, making sure that there are no broken bones or injuries."
"It's all right, Tom," Deborah said, trying to wave him away, but Tom was insistent.
Kneeling next to her, he first of all checked her arms, assuring himself that they were unbroken. Then he turned and started running his hands along Deborah's legs, working from the ankles and moving steadily up.
"My legs are fine," Deborah hissed at him, trying to push his hands away, only to find her efforts ignored as Tom ran his hands the full length of her legs. All the way up until he was touching her there, she realised with shock.
"What do you think you're doing," Deborah shrieked, as Tom pushed her legs slightly further apart and eased a finger up between her lips.
"I'm just checking for internal injuries, milady," came the undaunted reply. "While you're with me I'm responsible if anything happens to you, so I need to be careful."
"Take your hand away from there, this instant," demanded Deborah, unwilling to believe that this oaf, this gorilla, had dared to feel her pussy and had pushed his finger into her. What was worse, instead of taking it out, he was wriggling it around inside her, feeling her.
"It's alright, milady," soothed Tom. "This won't take long. I have to make sure you're OK."
"I'm fine," Deborah shrieked. "Take your hand away."
"I'm not sure you are, milady," said Tom. "You're squirming an awful lot when I touch you like this." Tom probed a little deeper, causing Deborah to squirm a bit harder.
"That's you making me squirm," came the heated reply. "Now take your hand away."
"You're right," said Tom. "My finger doesn't go deep enough to tell. Just a second and I'll fix that."
To Deborah's horror, Tom withdrew his hand, while at the same time dropped his trousers. It was evident at a glance that his genitals were built on the same generous lines as the rest of him.
Then Tom was pressing his erection firmly into Deborah, the way already slippery from the probing of his fingers. Deborah frantically squirmed, trying to get away from this helpful healing touch as Tom drove slowly but determinedly into her.
Deborah lay there, twisting helplessly against Tom's cock as it pinned her neatly to the ground. He wasn't trying to actually have sex with her, it seemed, just having inserted his cock to feel her insides more fully. He was just leaving it there deep inside her.
While Deborah was demanding that he take it out, now, Tom was reaching up and was undoing the buttons to her top.
Deborah, in between demands for him to get off her, slapped at his hands, only to have her own hands firmly smacked and pushed to the side.
"Lie still, milady," growled Tom. "I have to check for broken ribs. We can't have you ride home if you've got a broken rib, now can we?"
"My ribs aren't broken and my legs and arms are fine and my insides are fine and will you please take your dick out of me," squealed Deborah.
"Be patient, milady," came the bland reply. "It's better to be safe, you know."
Now Deborah's top was undone and pulled aside, while her underthings were pushed up high, giving Tom room to examine her . . . ribs.
"Those are not my ribs," groaned Deborah, feeling Tom's hands close softly around her breasts.
"I know, milady," soothed Tom, his voice full of sweet reason. "But I can feel probable damage to your ribs by seeing how you react when I touch you like this."
Deborah squealed as Tom started gently kneading her breasts and squeezing her nipples.
"You see," said Tom. "You squealed. That indicates you're feeling something from your ribs when I do this." Another squeeze elicited another squeal from an irate Deborah.
"Will you stop this," she pleased. "I'm fine. There's nothing wrong with me except you're on me and in me. Please get off."
"Are you sure," asked Tom. "What happens when I do this." His fingers dug in deep, just below Deborah's ribs, causing her to frantically twist on the spot as the sudden ticking sent spasms of giggles through her. Promptly followed by spasms of other sensations as the sudden writhing carried through to her pussy, causing her to massage Tom's embedded cock.
"I have to admit," said Tom, when Deborah had managed to settle a bit, still breathing hard from the sudden spasms of feelings deep inside her, "you do seem to be quite sound. Do you think you're ready to ride?"
"Yes, Tom," gasped Deborah, relieved that he was finally going to get off her.
"OK," said Tom, smiling. "Let's ride."
He slowly withdrew his cock and then pushed it forcefully back into Deborah, laughing at her startled look. Withdrawing and plunging back he explained.
"Agnes isn't ready yet. She'll need to rest for another quarter of an hour, and as you want to ride now I guess you'll have to be the mare while I ride you."
Furious, Deborah tried to strike at Tom, finding her arms easily caught and held, while he continued on his ride. She found she couldn't help her responses, either, as the time he had just lain in her had predisposed her to accept what was happening. Deborah found her hips rising to meet Tom as he continued his downward thrusts, holding her firmly nailed to the ground.
Deborah swore at Tom, but her heart wasn't in it. The tactile vibrations pounding into her were too much of a distraction to allow her to concentrate on anything but them. Soon she was silent except for little gasps of pleasure as Tom rode her.
Tom enjoyed himself, plunging repeatedly into the soft compliant flesh under him. Now that Deborah had stopped resisting and started participating they were both getting enjoyment from a simple little pastime. He ploughed unhurriedly on.
Deborah was gasping, wanting completion. She thrust herself against Tom, harder and faster. She could hear herself babbling to Tom, asking him for more, and she could feel Tom responding, driving down harder.
Hearing Deborah's pleas, Tom turned up the pressure, driving himself hard and fast, seeking his own climax now. Deborah's was coming and he would prefer to have his at the same time. He heard Deborah scream and jerk beneath him and, as though that was the awaited signal, Tom gasped and came, pounding furiously for the last few moments, before relaxing to a slow movement and finally stopping.
He continued to lie on Deborah, holding her down with his weight and his still rampart cock.
"Milady," he murmured, "if I tell you a jump is too high, I suggest you listen in future."
Deborah glared at him, getting her spirit back, but she also nodded. "I hadn't realised that the hedges had grown so much," she said, half apologetically. "They really need to be trimmed down again. I'll get my father to look into it."
Tom finally rose. "You don't seem to be any the worse for your tumble in the grass," he said ambiguously. "I'll fetch Agnes and you can continue your ride.