Free Their Master's Pleasure by B. A. Bradbury

I saw something approaching anguish in her eyes. It seemed the question of whether she liked or loathed my godson had been answered, for loathing would surely provoke cold fury, not this heated passion.
    â€˜As you wish,’ I said. ‘I’ll get his word on it, never fear. And not wanting to keep you in suspense a moment longer, I can tell you we’ll be playing Ride-a-Cock-Horse. Have you planned what you’ll be wearing for this canter of yours, my dear?’
    â€˜Just hard hat, riding jacket and boots, I thought.’
    â€˜Hmmm. I think we can dispense with the jacket, in fact. I’m sure Freddie will want to watch those lovely titties of yours bounce as Dobbin gets into his stride.’
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Chapter 8
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    The game having been chosen, I visited the nursery with Elizabeth to inspect of the all-important rocking horse. As she deduced, Dobbin would need raising up to accommodate adult legs. I doubted we would need to seek out a carpenter, however, since a couple of wooden boxes or crates should do the trick admirably. I determined to speak with Phillips, the gardener, to see if he had anything suitable to hand.
    Elizabeth showed me the stirrup leathers and again declared them too short. I wasn’t so sure, for Elizabeth’s comfort wasn’t a requirement. The whole idea was that she should be un comfortable in the extreme and the position of her legs would undoubtedly be an important factor.
    â€˜I need you to sit on Dobbin for a moment,’ I said. ‘I want to see what it looks like.’
    She hiked up her skirts and threw a leg over the wooden mount. It immediately became apparent that I wasn’t about to see a thing on account of my ward’s voluminous clothing.
    â€˜It’s no good,’ I said, ‘you’ll have to take your dress off. Take everything off, in fact.’
    She afforded me a suspicious look, but began peeling off the various layers till she was down to vest and bloomers alone. Though she showed little enthusiasm for going further, I insisted she divest herself of her drawers also. ‘Purely in the interests of research, you understand,’ I assured her.
    With that garment duly discarded I had her sit upon Dobbin once more and put her feet in the stirrups. She was quite right - the stirrup leathers needed lengthening: right now she looked rather like a jockey waiting for the off.
    â€˜It might help if you rocked him,’ I said.
    I walked around her as she did so, pausing at various points to study her motion and trying to imagine what the effect of the phalluses would be. Straight away I could see a problem: if she stood up in the stirrups the weight would be taken off her crotch and the phalluses would cease to move inside her. In fact, that would be true even if the stirrup leathers were longer. The solution was relatively straightforward, fortunately, and I searched around for a stick of chalk, no nursery being without such an item. Having located one, I returned to Elizabeth and slid my hand down under her groin, at which she jerked back with an affronted gasp, glaring at me.
    â€˜Keep still,’ I said. ‘I’m just marking the saddle for the rings.’
    â€˜What rings?’
    â€˜You’ll see soon enough.’
    I positioned the chalk close to her vagina and marked the saddle, then went around the back and made a second mark close to her anus. Satisfied, I told Elizabeth she could dismount and get dressed.
    Alone in my study once more I gave thought to the matter of the two phalluses. Their manufacture I decided to entrust to a craftsman in Canterbury I had known for years, a man whose workmanship and discretion I was confident I could rely upon. I wrote to him on the matter, enclosing a sketch and written specification, and he replied by return of post that the articles would be ready in a week.
    â€˜The phalluses are on order,’ I said to Elizabeth when next I saw her, ‘so that just leaves