To a saddler's

The coach moved off and Victoria wondered where the next destination would be. The Tutor was silent, ignoring her, and she hadn’t the courage to ask him. At last the coach came to a halt and David opened the door. A pungent aroma filled the carriage as she and the Tutor stepped out. Looking round Victoria was horrified. They appeared to be in a poor area of the city, not the kind of place that she would ever dream of visiting. She was even more disturbed when she felt the footman grip her arm and lead her towards a workshop, which the Tutor was already entering.

Once inside the building she realised that she was in some kind of saddlers or leather workers. Saddles, straps, harnesses covered the walls. Mr Bartlett was talking to a grubby looking man in overalls. As she came in the man looked up at her and gave her an appraising glance, before returning his attention to the conversation with the Tutor.

Bored, she looked round, wondering why they were here. She couldn’t see why she had been brought on a shopping trip here, or even why Mr Bartlett was here. Items such as were on display in the workshop could surely be bought by the servants; Mr Bartlett certainly hadn’t struck her as being a fanatical horseman. At last Mr Bartlett finished his conversation and nodded towards David. The workshop owner moved away from the counter and, producing a key from a pocket, unlocked a door in the far wall. Victoria felt David grab her arm and begin to press her towards the door. She shook him off angrily.

“I can walk on my own “she said glaring up at him. He smiled down at her.

“Of course Miss “he murmured as he followed her, but far more closely than was appropriate. He’s more like a guard than a servant she thought.

The door led into a dingy windowless room. Victoria blinked, trying to accustom her eyes to the darkness, wondering why they had needed to come in here. It appeared to be some kind of storeroom. There seemed to be more straps and harnesses hanging from hooks in the wall. The man took Mr Bartlett over to one corner where they appeared to be examining some of the products. Victoria saw Mr Bartlett nod, and then select two or three items, although she couldn’t see what they were.

He turned and approached her, and she tried to identify the items he was holding. There seemed to be several short leather straps, most of them with buckles sewn on. They weren’t items that she recognised from when she was riding, but they might be some form of stirrup attachments she thought. Beyond him she saw the shop owner was carrying what appeared to be a couple of riding crops. Concentrating as she was, she was completely surprised when David grabbed her arms and spun her round, pulling her hands behind her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she spluttered furious, only to feel the Tutor wrapping the leather straps round her wrists. Almost before she realised what he was doing she realised that her wrists were fastened behind her. “This is intolerable “ she began, twisting to try and face Bartlett, only to have her words choked off as a further leather strap covered her mouth, being **** in between her lips. “Okay David, hold Miss Victoria please” she heard her Tutor say and she squawked into the leather as the footman gripped the top of her arms firmly, and she shuddered as his huge hands brushed against her breasts. She saw him smirking; mocking her helplessness, knowing there was only her dress and chemise between him and her bare flesh. At that moment she heard a crack and she screamed into the gag as a sharp pain crashed through her, and she fell into the footman’s arms. She realised that the Tutor must have used one of the crops on her bottom, but before she could recover he repeated the process, and all the breath was driven from her and she could feel tears trickling down her cheeks. It was not so much the pain, but the unexpectedness of the **** which had shocked her, coupled with the humiliation of the grubby shopkeeper and the footman witnessing her being bound, gagged and the crop applied.

Even as she lay against the chest of the footman she heard Mr Bartlett talking to the shopkeeper.

“Yes, they seem eminently suitable – I’ll take both crops and two of the gags plus a dozen of the straps. How soon could you have the other items complete? “

She heard the shopkeeper croak in reply “Thank you Mr Bartlett, Sir. I’ll have them other things ready within the week. “

“Excellent” replied the Tutor. “David, please release Miss Victoria and escort her back to the carriage. “

Victoria shook as she felt the various straps removed. When David hustled her towards the door she saw the shopkeeper watching her, an expression of cruel prurience on his face. He was enjoying her misfortune, taking delight in seeing a well-bred upper class young woman degraded in front of him.