Santa Sutra & the Rebellious Rein-Girl

Santa Sutra & the Rebellious Rein-Girl

Even from her location secured inside the large barn, she could tell the evening air had brought with it a frosty bite. She silently reprimanded herself for the umpteenth time that day. Her pride had once again got the better of her that afternoon.  She cringed remembering the scene. Upon hearing her vain exclamation to the other three rein-girls over dinner that they weren’t even needed anyway, that she could do the job all by herself and probably even better at that, they’d at first looked surprised then strangely smug. How was she to know Santa Sutra would choose that exact moment to re-enter the feeding shed from behind her?

The girls’ smiles still burned in her memory as the tears prickled and threatened to fall. How quickly her famous pride had turned to shame, then horror, as the realisation of Santa Sutra’s words booming from behind her had hit her full force.

“Is that so, Vixen! Well perhaps you’re right. We won’t be needing Bella, Lottie or Clara tonight after all. You’ll do the deliveries all by yourself, with a kiss from my whip if you so much as slack for a moment.”

All by herself. How was she ever going to manage to pull the sleigh, never mind the mountain of gifts and her beautiful Mistress, Santa Sutra as she sat in the driver’s seat? The sleigh stood gleaming in the centre of the barn, the gift mountain cloaked and secured towards the rear, mocking her with sheer size. She didn’t even know if it were possible to do this alone. She guessed she’d just have to try. Mistress’ word was law, she’d found that out early on. Her rear was testament to her rebellious and wilful nature, having been striped by the cane so many times during training that it felt as though the marks were permanently visible.

She tried to move forwards, just about resisting her natural urge to bolt and flee from fear. It wouldn’t have done any good; the bit was between her teeth and the leather straps of her head harness were securely attached to a large metal ring on the side of the barn. There was a spattering of food on the floor by her feet, but she’d lost her appetite after being tied here immediately after her little outburst. The scraps of dinner had been gladly thrown down on the floor for her to finish by the other rein-girls, serenading her with crowing jeers and taunts, the pinnacle of her humiliation. So far, anyway. She shivered and this time it really was from fear, not simply the frosty air seeping through the wooden barn.

The interconnecting door between barn and main house opened and Santa Sutra stepped through. She wore full regalia, as was tradition. Fitted, long riding jacket and full billowing skirt, in plush red velvet with snowy white trim. She seemed to sparkle from top to toe, from the black silk of her top hat through to the wicked gleam in her eyes, the glossy blood red stain on her lips right down to the patent black leather of her knee-high, tight-laced Victorian pointed toe boots. She confidently marched across the barn, approaching where Vixen stood with a menace that did something to her insides. The long black whip coiled around her Mistress’ black gloved hand did absolutely nothing to quell her fear, either. She had a feeling she would be on the receiving end of that cruel, air-slicing whip before the night was over.

A familiar sensation began to rise in Vixen, from wherever our core feelings surface. The pit of her stomach? From deep within her pussy? It was arousal alright, but it was anger as well. She was angry that she’d been shamed in this way, and the fear of having to prove herself by doing such a large job all alone was too much to bear. Why should she have to do this? Hadn’t she been humiliated enough? She’d tried to apologise to Santa Sutra earlier, in the feeding shed, but it hadn’t been good enough. It was one time too many. She’d never learn her lesson otherwise; her Mistress has told her.

Well, she’d learned it now. She’d never show off to the other rein-girls again. She would never utter a single vain or proud word, and she’d work harder than the other three girls put together. Hmmm. Perhaps she wasn’t as good at being humble as she thought. Ok, fine. She was incorrigibly proud, vain and arrogant. If she was to be the naughty one out of the four, she would damn well make sure she earned the label.

Fight or flee. She couldn’t flee. Fight it was.

Santa Sutra had reached her in the few seconds it took for all those thoughts to crash through her mind. From frightened little fawn to rebellious rein-girl. It was always this way before punishment. She needed to steel herself for what was inevitable. The decision to rebel and resist mingled with her desire to please her Mistress, the feelings courting one another dangerously. Rebellion and arousal. Sparks would fly tonight, if nothing else.

She felt Santa Sutra’s hand on her side and could see her standing close by. She didn’t dare raise her head to look at her Mistress; the warmth of her hand stroking her body alone, even while gloved, was enough to make her considering melting right there. Mistress always knew just how to pet her, and when She scritched behind her ear she steadied herself to stop her legs from buckling.

“I told you that smart mouth would keep on getting you into trouble, Vixen. The problem with you is, you never learn.”

Mistress sighed heavily, and stopped scritching that delicious spot. It was all Vixen could do not to nuzzle into her hand, chasing the pleasure. It was an act of approval though she knew, one she didn’t deserve right now.

“I don’t like having to punish you,” Mistress continued. “The most important night of the year and you make me have to teach you a lesson. This would be so much easier with you four girls working together.”

“But what’s done is done, and what’s said is said.” She moved around to where the long leads from Vixen’s head harness were attached to the wall fixture, and freed them, wrapping the leather around her hand.

“You didn’t finish your food.” With her free hand, Mistress gathered up some of the remnants of dinner and placed her hand to Vixen’s lips. “Eat. You will need all the strength you can muster.”

Vixen very deliberately took two steps backwards, causing the lead-reins in Mistress’ hand to be pulled tight. Her eyes were still downcast which was probably a good thing right now. Fire flashed behind them, the fire of excitement, disobedience and rebellion in the face of inevitable punishment.

“I see,” said Mistress, in a voice as cold as the frost fast coating the ground outdoors. “It’s like that, is it. What a shame. I had hoped you’d learned something from last time, but it would seem not. At least you’re really earning your punishment, my sweet.”

The wry and twisted humour in her Mistress’ voice made the fear rise to the surface again, but Vixen stood her ground and said nothing. She didn’t move, either. Not even when Mistress tugged on the reins in order to move her closer. Her chin was pulled upwards, but she was set in her obstinate path now. If Santa Sutra wanted her to work, she’d have to damn well make her.

“I know what you’re doing, Vixen. You think you can delay the inevitable or that for some reason I will change my mind if you misbehave wildly enough. It’s no good, you know. You ARE going to work for me tonight, whether you like it or not.”

Mistress moved closer, slipped off one glove for the moment right in front of Vixen’s face then ran a manicured fingernail over her bottom lip. Slowly, deliberately, cruelly, meltingly.

“It’s simply a matter of finding the right ways to persuade you.”

Fuck, the woman was difficult to fight. How do you fight someone who knows your weak spots, your needs, your desires? How to turn them to her advantage. How to make you chase the pleasure her fingertips can give. Vixen looked up, finally, and saw Mistress looking straight at her with a smile playing around her lips. No trace of worry. She knew she had what it takes to break her. She’d done it so many times before.

Santa Sutra replaced her glove then walked past her, so close that her jacket brushed all along Vixen’s side. The velvet and fur against her own made her tingle. She hadn’t been touched in that special way for a while; it was so easy for Mistress to use her carnal needs against her. Mistress was behind her now, having unravelled the reins from her gloved hand just enough to allow her that extra distance while keeping the reins not too tight, but not slack enough for Vixen to walk forwards either.

There was a gloved fingertip at her pussy lips. Even more startling, if she could possibly be any more startled in that instant, the fingertip moved inside of her without any resistance. The humiliation wasn’t over it seemed. Her fear and shame had resulted in far more arousal that she’d give even her slutty pussy credit for – arousal that was now coating her Mistress’ gloved finger as it slowly yet deliberately moved first knuckle-deep inside her, then caused a throbbing yearning for the lost pleasure when the finger moved out once again.

One finger became two, then three. Three fingers working her pussy and the feminine fur around her pussy must be glistening with the wetness. She didn’t have to see to know, she could feel. Mistress’ breath was on her now too, as she’d moved her face closer – to see better what she was doing or to be deliberately teasing, Vixen couldn’t tell.

Oh it was deliberate… Mistress was blowing on her wet fur now and she was working her fingers in faster and faster. The hand holding the reins was resting against Vixen’s leg, between haunch and knee – not so much holding her there as much as being a very definite reminder who was in charge here. Mistress’ thumb, outside her body while the other fingers were inside, working her clitoris in gentle then firm, small then larger circles. The pressure changing constantly but the movement never letting up. It was hypnotic, the fingers moving in and out, the circles from Mistress’ thumb pad, using her wetness as lube, and the chills from Mistress’ breath on her exposed and vulnerable intimate area.

What Vixen hadn’t realised was that all the while Mistress was working her insides, loosening her and fucking her with her gloved hand, she had been edging her forwards, tiny step by tiny step. She didn’t know how long she’d been lost to the motion, forgetting the night’s work, her punishment and her Mistress’ displeasure, selfishly revelling in the stimulation from being impaled on that expert hand. It was only when she felt the lead reins loosen, and her Mistress remove her hand and her body heat move away from her behind, that she realised was was standing in front of the cursed sleigh. In her post hand-fucked state she was feeling too wobbly and hazy to bolt, as she’d promised to herself she would at the first chance she got. Instead she simply stood there, barely upright and tottering, her pussy throbbing with the echoes of leather-clad finger fucked pleasure. Her head was a mess and her body simply followed. There was no chance of escape now, even if she truly wanted to – and she wasn’t sure after that brief session of bliss that she did actually want to leave.

Shit. She’d been well and truly led by the pussy once again. The clit-led reindeer, proud and stubborn but so easy to stroke into submission.

“I knew I’d be able to persuade you somehow, darling.” Santa Sutra’s voice rang out clearly, splitting the silence in the barn. She was obviously quite pleased with herself. “Now, you have a night’s work to do to earn what you just enjoyed. You will not let me down, I’ll make sure of it.”

Mistress opened the barn doors remotely and before Vixen knew what was happening, there was an electric flash of pain in her rump. She hadn’t even heard the whip whistle and the pain literally rooted her to the spot for a moment. The whistle came again – but this time Vixen knew what it meant. She remembered, or at least her instinct did. She leapt forwards just as the whip kissed her ass for the second time that night, but by no means the last. With a strength summoned from the very depths of her love for her Mistress, her need to please and her sexually stimulated mind and body, she took off into the night, the gift filled sleigh behind her and her Mistress urging her ever onwards.