I stop briefly when I enter Rochford Manor, and while I admire the nice buildings and well-maintained gardens, hatred wells up inside me. Thinking about the injustice that the family of the owners of this place brought to my family, I go into the stables building. The smell of the horses I grew up with soothes me a bit.

And there she is, Lady Isabella Rochford, my target. She looks really hot in her riding tights, which flatter her nice ass and toned legs. Her long blonde hair is tied back in a ponytail.

She approaches the box of her neighing horse. She hugs it and whispers into the horse’s neck. The horse lowers its head, and it looks like it hugs her back – showing the bond between her and the horse.

I startle her by saying, “Are you a horse whisperer or is the horse whispering to you?”

She does not respond and only looks annoyed at me, so I introduce myself: “I’m Roger, the new groom.”

“Good morning and welcome to Rochford Manor,” she replies tersely. “Go over to the other building and find Greg, the head groom. He’ll tell you what to do.”

“And who are you?” I ask her bluntly, pretending not to know. 

“I’m Lady Rochford, your boss, who told you to go over to the other building,” she replies, showing the typical arrogant aristocratic behaviour I detest so much after what has happened to my father.

“Aye, aye, my lady,” I answer with a smirk, turn, and leave.

I feel her stare at my back, but I ignore it and head over to the other building.

**

“Can I help you?” a guy asks when I enter the barn.

“I’m Roger, the new groom,” I respond.

“Ah, good, happy to have you. We’re currently two people down. I’m Greg, the head groom. We’re about to start feeding. At the end of the aisle on the left-hand side is the feed room. Start with the cart on the left side. The boxes are labelled with the horses’ names.”

“Okay, got it,” I reply and go to the feed room.

**

“So, what have you done before?” asks Greg a bit later when he, another groom, Jack, and I are distributing hay to the boxes.

“I worked here and there,” I respond vaguely, not interested in sharing anything beyond the bare minimum. “I was abroad for the past few years.”

“Have you worked with horses before?” Jack wants to know.

“Yes, I grew up around horses,” I say, in an attempt to ensure that they believe me, that I know what I’m doing, and leave me otherwise alone.

“So, how are the owners of this place, the typical arrogant upper class?” I ask, changing the topic and deflecting any further questions about me.

“They’re indeed an arrogant bunch,” Jack tells me. “I mean, the Lady is hot, but still an arrogant bitch.”

“I’ve realised that,” I smirk as I agree with that assessment.

“You shouldn’t talk like this about the lordship,” Greg reprimands me.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend anybody,” I say defensively, but roll my eyes behind Greg’s back, which makes Jack chuckle.

**

I’m repairing a wall in the garden the next day when I see some movement in the main house, where the lady and the lord live.

I am surprised to see that Lady Rochford is still friends with Charlotte, with whom she shared a room in boarding school. Yes, I know the lady and the lord well. We go back a long time, even though she did not recognise me.

I continue working on the wall when I feel someone watching me. The lady stands at the window, watching me work. She quickly steps aside to hide when I turn to look at the house. She probably thinks I have not seen her watching me, but this incident could come in handy as I continue my plan.

**

“Roger, come over here,” she shouts the next day when I am working in the barn.

“What has happened to Domingo?” she asks in her typical arrogant tone when I approach her. Don Domingo is Isabella’s stallion. It has a cut on his flank and is bleeding.

“I don’t know,” I reply. “I haven’t brought him in from the meadows.”

“Anyway, get me the box with the medicine,” she orders me.

“Aye, aye, my lady,” I respond and leave for the tack room to fetch the box.

When I return, she gets an ointment from the medicine box and Domingo’s halter and opens the stallion’s stall door. She puts the halter on Domingo and tells me to hold him.

I move beside her into the stall and grab the halter. I make sure to stand close enough to her that she brushes my arm, which distracts her for a moment before she focuses again on attending to the horse.

“Okay, big boy, I know you don’t like it, but I need to attend to your cut,” she tells the stallion. He flinches and shakes his head when she applies the ointment to the cut. He is a big, strong horse, and I have difficulty holding his head.

“Hold him; that cannot be that difficult,” she chides me. She is so annoyingly arrogant.

I pull at the halter, and the stallion lowers his head. “Everything’s okay; no one wants to hurt you,” I whisper calmly to Domingo, petting his neck, and the stallion relaxes. I have always been good with horses.

“Okay, I’ll take it from here,” she tells me, taking hold of the halter and pressing against my body.

“She’s so annoying,” I think and just leave without another word. I feel her looking at me again.

**

The next afternoon, she enters the stables, dressed in her equestrian clothing with beige riding tights, a chequered brown tweed jacket, brown boots, and her blonde hair in a ponytail.

“Roger, is Flower ready for me?” she asks when I come out of the tack room carrying the mare’s saddle.

“She’s ready in a few minutes,” I reply. “I just need to put on the saddle and bridle.”

“I need you to help me with Domingo to attend to his cut,” she tells me. “Get me the box with the medicine. I’ll wait at Domingo’s box.”

“Aye, aye, my lady, I’ll be right there,” I respond and leave with the saddle for the grooming area.

She waits at Domingo’s stall when I arrive with the medicine box. She gets the ointment and Domingo’s halter before opening the stall door and putting the halter on his head.

“Hold him,” she tells me, and I move next to her into the stall, grabbing the halter and brushing against her.

She does not seem comfortable with me standing so close, but she tries to focus on applying the ointment to Domingo’s cut. This time, the stallion does not flinch.

“Okay, you can let go,” she tells me, then moves towards me to grab the halter, pressing against my body.

I turn and leave.

She takes off Domingo’s halter and closes the stall door before following me to the grooming area where her mare Flower waits.

I put on Flower’s bridle and say, “Flower is ready for you, my lady.”

“Okay, tighten the saddle girth after I’ve mounted,” she orders me and gets onto her mare.

I wait next to the horse for my first cautious attack. I push her leg forward so I can reach the girth and tighten it. She is surprised by my touch and says nothing. When I finish tightening the girth, I pull her leg back.

“Hey, that’s enough,” she says angrily.

“Did you like what you saw of me from the window the other day when I was working in the park?” I ask, ignoring her comment and stroking her leg from her hip to her knee. “If you want to see more, come to the hay barn at eight tonight.” Before she can say anything, I turn and walk away. I feel her stare at my back again.

I think I have confused her. When I prepared for my mission, I watched her with her husband, and they did not look like a loving couple. So I thought she would be susceptible to my advances, and I believe my plan is on track.

**

Greg has ordered me to finish the work on the wall in the garden - another opportunity to tease the lady a bit more. I have seen her going back into the main house, and usually she takes her lunch in the winter garden overlooking the garden. I shed my shirt so that she can have another look at my muscular body.

**

When it gets closer to eight o’clock, I enter the barn through a door at the back to get ready for the next phase. Some variables in my plan are obviously beyond my control. One uncertainty is whether she will run to her husband and get me fired. The other is whether I have read her correctly and she will really meet me alone in the barn.

The barn is empty and dark. I enter the small room at the back, switch on the lamp, which casts only a dim light, and wait. I take off my shirt and put it on one of the shelves, leaving only my jeans and boots.

I hear someone approaching from the main entrance, step out of the room, and wait in the semi-darkness.

“Roger, are you here?” she shouts into the dark barn, and I see her moving slowly toward the light.

“Good evening, my lady,” I reply. “I’m glad that you could make it.”

“You can come closer,” I tell her. She stops when she sees me.

“I’ve only come to tell you that I will no longer accept your rude behaviour and that any further misbehaviour will lead to your immediate dismissal,” she tells me.

“Which rude behaviour are you talking about?” I ask, hatred again welling inside me. “Like treating everyone around you as if they were your slaves, or never saying ‘please’ or ‘thanks’?”

She is so taken aback by my outburst that she does not move when I approach and circle her. I move up close behind her.

“What now? Was that the whole speech that you’ve prepared?” I whisper in her ear and press my body against her back. I have to admit that she smells good.

She turns around and faces me. “How dare you? Who do you think you are?” she snaps angrily at me.

“Oh, there she is again, arrogant Lady Rochford,” I sneer, realising that I still walk a tightrope.

I surprise her by grabbing the back of her head and pulling it back. With the finger of the other hand, I follow her jawline and down her neck to her breasts. She has nice perky tits. I circle her left nipple and feel how it gets hard under my touch and see how it pokes against her shirt.

She recovers rather quickly from the shock of me attacking her and tries to push my hand away.

I am quicker, let go of her head, turn her around, and pin her arms to her sides by reaching around her with one arm. She tries to pull away, but I am stronger and keep her in place.

“So, what do you want, Lady Rochford?” I whisper in her ear.

“Let me go,” she replies angrily.

“Is that really what you want? Why did you then watch me working in the park and try to hide when I caught you watching?” I ask quietly.

“You’re imagining things that are not real,” she replies.

“Is that so?” I whisper, stroking her breasts with the finger of my free hand, down her tummy to her left hip, further down her thigh to her knee and back up to her crotch, where I move to her other hip.

Deciding that I have pushed her enough, I let go of her, step back, and whisper, “I’ll be here tomorrow night at the same time; then you can try your speech again.” I quickly move further away into the darkness, and I am already gone when she turns around.

I wait in the darkness at the back of the barn. While I watch her as she slowly moves to the main barn door, I wonder what she is thinking. I think I pushed her in the right direction tonight.

I imagine that she will either fuck the lord or masturbate.

**

The next day goes by without any encounters with the lady.

In the afternoon, I go to the barn and make the preparations for the evening. I am pretty sure that she will come.

**

Shortly before eight o’clock, I position myself again close to the room at the back of the barn. But this time, I position myself across the door in a dark corner.

Then I hear her approaching.

“Roger, are you here?” she shouts.

“There you are again,” I whisper behind her.

She spins around.

I stand again bare-chested in front of her. “Good evening, my lady,” I say sarcastically.

 “Stop being so annoying!” the lady tells me. “I’m your boss, and you’re supposed to be polite to me and obey me.”

“Am I indeed supposed to do that?” I ask, hardly concealing my anger.

“And what happens if I don’t do as you say?”

“I will just dismiss you,” she replies.

“And why haven’t you already done it?” I want to know. She is not aware, but that is obviously an important question for me and my plan.

“I’m giving you a last chance to change your behaviour, because I’m so benevolent,” she responds.

“Really, is that the reason why you haven’t asked your husband to dismiss me? I rather think you want me to stay.” I stare at her to unnerve her.

“This is another one of your fantasies,” she says, but I think it does not sound convincing.

I decide it is time to push further and surprise her by stepping forward, embracing, and kissing her. After a few seconds, she recovers from her stupor and tries to push me away.

I am, however, faster and bind her hands with a rope that I have stuck in the waistband at the small of my back. Before she can do anything, I bring her hands above her head and fix her bound hands to a hook that I attached to the ceiling earlier today.

“Hey, are you crazy? Let me go!” she exclaims.

“Shh, calm down,” I whisper. “This is just so that we can talk. Wasn’t that why you came here?”

I caress her left cheek with my fingers and stroke down her neck to her breasts and along her left side, over her tummy and up her right side again. Then I push it further and begin to unbutton her shirt.

“What are you doing?” she asks, surprised.

“Do you want me to stop?” I ask, continuing to unbutton her shirt.

The lady remains silent, still processing what is happening, while I kiss her tummy, open her riding tights, and pull them down. I briefly admire the sight of her nicely trimmed blonde landing strip before I kiss her mound and down to her slit and lick along her smooth labia.

She gasps as I circle her clit with my tongue and move my finger through her fold.

“What did you want to tell me?” I ask between alternately licking over and sucking on her clit.

The lady moans softly, absorbed by the pleasure from my attention to her clit and missing my question.

“I thought so,” I say and decide that I have pushed her sufficiently. I straighten, pulling up her riding tights, freeing her hands from the hook, and loosening the rope around her hands.

“Same place and time tomorrow,” I whisper and vanish into the night. In the dark aisle, I turn to see what she is doing.

She still stands in the barn, looking confused in my direction, but she cannot see me in the darkness. She slowly buttons her shirt and tucks it into her riding tights. Then she moves through the dark barn to the exit.

I assume the poor lady is very horny given that I left her intentionally unsatisfied. Unfortunately, her husband is gone for the next few days to buy new horses at an auction. So, she will need to pleasure herself. Perhaps she will even think of me when she masturbates. I smile at that thought.

I am wondering whether she will confide in her friend Charlotte.

**

The next morning, I get her mare ready when she arrives in the grooming area for her daily ride.

“Good morning, my lady,” I greet her, overly courteous. “Flower is ready for you. Do you want me to tighten the saddle girth?” I ask.

“Good morning,” she replies tersely. “Yes, tighten the girth when I’m mounted.”

I move next to the horse after she has gotten onto it and move her leg forward to tighten the saddle girth. After I have tightened it, I move her leg back. This time she does not say anything, which is a good sign for my plan. So, I get to the next stage.

“Wear this when we meet tonight,” I whisper to her, then put a butt plug wrapped in cloth into her hand. I turn around and leave before she can react.

She puts it into her jacket and rides out of the stable. I would love to see how she reacts when she realises what I have given her. But I have to wait until this evening to see whether she will wear it, as I told her.

**

When it gets closer to eight o’clock, I am a bit nervous because my plan is at a crucial point. Everything is prepared; now only the lady is missing.

I constantly check my watch, and I have to wait until ten past eight before I hear her coming.

“You’re late,” I say when she arrives at the bottom of the ladder that leads to the hay loft of the barn where I am waiting.

“It took a bit longer to put the butt plug into my ass,” the lady retorts.

I briefly smile, hearing that she did as I told her.

“Come up here,” I tell her.

She walks over to the ladder and comes up. When she reaches the top, I stretch out a hand to her, but she ignores it and steps onto the loft floor.

“So, then show me what you brought,” I request.

“What do you mean?” the lady asks back, playing dumb.

“Take off your...