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I didn't know it was a sexual experiment at the time!
I shut the barn door behind us and lit a lamp; at least inside it was snug and dry. I hung my wet coat on a nail, secured the horse to a hitching post, and set to work with the hoof pick. Her Ladyship also peeled off her sodden jacket and hung it on a tack hook on the wall. Out of the corner of my eye, I admired her neat waist and high proud breasts, the damp white fabric of her blouse clinging to her skin. I determined that the hoof was not so tender or bruised as to prevent the animal from carrying her back to the manor house, and wiped my hands with a rag. There was a loud crack of thunder and the rain pounded mercilessly against the roof. I checked the nervous animals in the stalls, speaking soothing gentle words, when I felt as if I was being watched.
Lady Jessica sat on a hay bale, long legs stretched out in front of her. "What is your name, stableman?" she asked.
"Alfred, my Lady."
She lazily removed her kid riding gloves, one finger at a time. "Well, Alfred, my boots are filthy. Come assist me."
I went over to her, knelt at her feet, and began to wipe her boots with the rag.
"No, no, that will never do," she scolded. "Do it properly, take them off."
I'd never removed a lady's boots before, and was not sure how to manage such a thing. Finally, I straddled her right leg, facing away from her, grasped the heel and began tugging.
"Oho, you would turn your backside to me?" she laughed, planting the sole of her other booted foot against my rump and shoving hard. Her right boot suddenly came loose, and I was sent sprawling, face first, into the straw. Embarrassed, I started to scramble to my feet, but as I rose to my hands and knees, Lady Jessica ordered sharply, "Don't move." What could I do? I froze.
I remained motionless, on all fours like an animal. It was humiliating, but for some reason, also strangely exciting to be unsure what would happen, what it was she wanted of me. The next thing I knew, she was standing over me, her muddy left boot planted on one side of me and her stockinged right foot on the other. With no warning nor ceremony, she bent over, reached beneath my belly, unbuckled my belt, and yanked my trousers straight down to my knees. I protested in shock, "Milady, what are you doing?!?"
"Oh, shut up," she snapped, "surely you know you deserve this..." I heard a swish and again I felt the sting of her crop, but this time against my bare buttocks.
*WHAP* "That's for thinking on your own instead of doing as I bid you."
*WHAP* "That's for not having a suitable mount ready for me."
*WHAP* "That's for rudely presenting your arse to my face."
*WHAP* I'm not sure what the rest were for - perhaps the storm, the stone in her horse's hoof, the fact that she had missed her day of hunting, or maybe just her generally irritated mood. I writhed, I squirmed; the crop burned and stung. "My Lady, please, I beg you!" I implored.
"What, too much for a big strong draft animal like you, Alfred?" she said dryly. "I think you can take this...and much more." She reached underneath me, and grasped my dangling member, which to my dismayed surprise, was growing stiff - and even stiffer in her hand. She laughed, and gave it a few quick tugs. "Ah yes, I think you might even like the kiss of the crop!" She struck once more for good measure, and my traitorous prick leapt to attention in her grip; I cringed at her peal of laughter.
She sat back down on the hay bale. "Now come over here and try again...do it right." I clutched my trousers and started to get to my feet. "No, no, no, naughty boy," she admonished, clearly amused at my predicament. "Crawl."
What could I do? I crawled - awkwardly, since my pants were still around my knees. And I kneeled at Lady Jessica's feet and served as her personal boot jack. "Very good," she said, "now you're learning. I do believe I could take you back to London with me and have you trained as my lady's maid." I could feel my temper start to rise, but I dared not answer back.
She stood up, looking down at me, and her expression was unreadable.