Henri allowed Arabella to sit upon her knees with her thighs spread open so that the tiny silver bell dangled just above the tabletop on which she was perched.

"Whenever you are in a sitting position, or even to lay down to sleep," Henri explained, "you must always keep your legs spread apart so that your lovely sex will be open to anyone's view upon demand. . . . .most especially, his lordship's. Lord Thayer is quite strict that his mares not display any unbecoming sense of modesty or shyness while in his care. All of Belsoie's mares are lovely specimens of femininity and he expects them to act accordingly. That means displaying your attributes to advantage at all times. . . . .and with pride."

He fed her bite-size portions of fresh fruit and raw vegetables which she nibbled from his fingers with her teeth.

"We will spend the rest of the morning going over the basics of your training." he informed her. "Then, in the afternoon, Lord Thayer will put you through your paces to discern what you are capable of. And let me remind you again, Arabella," Henri held a piece of melon just out of her reach so that she was forced to strain her neck upwards to retrieve the fruit with moistly parted lips, "any refusals to perform a task ordered of you will result in punishment. Lord Thayer will not tolerate any show of rebelliousness from his mares. You must never speak in his lordship's presence. And you are never to speak to him directly, unless ordered to do so. Recalcitrance on your part, or anything less than spirited attention to his lordship's commands. . . well, let us just say, that there are ways. . . . .and not so pleasant ones at that. . . . .to perk up a mare's spirit and her willingness to do her best." He picked out a sliver of orange carrot from the bowl. "Stick out your tongue." he ordered.

Hesitantly, Arabella poked the tip of her tongue between her lips.

"Now there, you see, that is just what I mean." Henri admonished. "When I order you to perform such simple task, I expect you to obey with enthusiasm! I'll not tolerate such nonsensical inhibitions while you are in my charge. And neither will his lordship! Try again." he dangled the carrot inches from her mouth. "Open your mouth. . . . .wider. . . . .wider. Push out your tongue as far as you can! You're hungry for your treat, aren't you? There!" he laid the slice of raw carrot gently on her tongue, and, her cheeks aflame with embarrassment, Arabella curled her tongue around the orange sliver, drawing it into her mouth, crunching it between her teeth with downcast eyes.

"There's also something else which must be understood between us, Arabella." Henri stated, dabbing a cloth against her lips. "How well you perform for his lordship also reflects on me as your trainer. I'll work you hard," he warned, his expression serious, "because you must be in top form by the time Lord Thayer presents you for the mating ritual at festival. As your trainer, I am allowed to discipline you as I see fit. You and I will develop a kinship of sorts through your training, but make no mistake," he rested his palms on the rough table top and stared intently into her wide and wary eyes, "if I detect any laxness on your part, or if I feel you are not performing to the best of your capabilities, I will mete out your punishment with all the enthusiasm his lordship shows in dealing with naughty mares. Am I understood?"

Slowly, Arabella nodded, her gaze never leaving his for an instant, as she absorbed his words.

"Good! And now that that is out of the way, hop off the table! 'Tis time to begin your training!"

Climbing down from the table somewhat ungainly, she glanced up to see Henri eyeing her with a studious frown. "First lesson," he stated, "a mare, especially one as pretty as you are, must always be graceful in her movements and light on her feet. That means, shoulders back, breasts thrust forward. And your nipples are always to be hard." He plucked at the little nubs with his fingers, then crossing his arms over his chest, he said, "Now, let's see how well you listen and obey instructions." He waited patiently as Arabella drew her shoulders back, thrusting the small globes of her breasts forward. After a brief moment, he nodded his approval. "Your head must at all times be held proudly." He lifted her chin with his finger. "If I need to, I will put a stiff collar on you until you lose some of those nasty inhibitions that may cause you to shy away from the men who will want to get a good look at you." Henri sat with one hip on the corner of the table, arms still crossed, a foot dangling above the floor. "When you are standing before his lordship, or any of your superiors, including myself, you will do so with your legs braced apart and your arms folded behind your back. Quickly, now! Assume the position!"

Henri barked the order at her, startling her. Shyly, the color rising in her face as he continued to critique her every move, Arabella spread her legs before him, squaring her shoulders as she folded her arms at the small of her back, the pink-tipped nipples thrusting toward him enticingly.

"Spread your legs wider, the bell should dangle freely between your thighs." Henri said. "Remember to hold your head high, eyes forward. Yes, that's it." He slid off the edge of the table, circling around her, his eyes touching on her approvingly. "Very nice. . . . . for now."

Arabella swallowed with difficulty, feeling utterly vulnerable and exposed. From the corner of her eye, she saw him reach above his worktable for a leather strap, similar to the one Lord Thayer had used on her earlier. Henri slapped it against his thigh as he approached her. Arabella struggled to quell the fear which rose within her. Her eyes remained fixed on the strap which now dangled from his hand as he stood directly in front of her.

"There's no need to look so frightened, Arabella." Henri consoled her. "One should respect the strap, yes, but those lovely buttocks of yours should become used to it in no time." He stepped behind her. "You will learn to trust in the discipline of the lash, as does every mare within the gates of Belsoie." He reassured. "Hard as it may seem to believe now, its sting will become quite familiar to you. . . . . and you will long for it with pleasure. You will learn, during the course of your training, that the lash is used not only for punishment and discipline, but also for reward." he teased the flesh of her buttocks with a quick flick of the tip, smiling as he saw her bottom quiver in reaction. "Lord Thayer will put you through your paces this afternoon." he informed her. "So we will begin your training with a few simple instructions. We are going out into the stable yard momentarily, and you are to walk out of here the way a proud mare should."

The thought of walking naked, out into the open, sunshine-filled stable yard from the relative safety of the dim, dusty interior of the thatched-roof building was suddenly daunting to Arabella. Henri saw the dread of it in her eyes and smiled at her with gentle assurance.

"You needn't be afraid, Arabella. I will be with you. Everyone saw you come through the gates of Belsoie earlier. The rumors are already circulating that Lord Thayer has found our festival mare. I am sure you will have quite an audience, both out in the yard and down at the paddock. We must work together to help you shed whatever shyness has been bred into you. The mares of Belsoie are worthy and proud. You will be no exception." He looked at her beneath lowering brows. "Now, the two most important things to distinguish a good mare from a lazy one, is her stance and her walk.'Tis far more than merely getting from one place to another. And 'tis more than just placing one foot in front of the other. The way you move must be done gracefully and with elegance. Nothing less will do as long as you are in my charge. So, that is where we must begin. I expect you to pay particular attention to my commands, Arabella. You may expect to feel the lash on your backside if you do not."

Arabella's slender frame trembled visibly from his pleasantly spoken words, but she maintained her stance to Henri's satisfaction. "Keep your arms folded behind your back. I'm going to lace them up nice and tight. It 'twill help keep you from trying to cover yourself with your hands when appearing out in public for the first time." He quickly wrapped a thick leather cord about her wrists, and then reached around to pinch the small nipples, making them stand out more prominently. After giving her a last once over, he spotted Cynan and Owyn on the other side of the stable, lounging near one of the mares' stalls, peeking surreptitiously through a knothole.

"Cynan! Owyn! Throw open the stable doors! She's ready for the yard!" Henri called to the two oafs.

Quickly, they jumped to obey, running to the set of heavy wooden doors and pulling them open, letting the morning sunlight flood through the entrance.

Henri turned to inspect Arabella once more. "I want you to march out those doors the way I expect a prize mare to march. . . with her back straight, breasts thrust forward, and knees high. Now, march!" and he flicked the end of the lash at her buttocks, sending her leaping forward with a tiny squeal of surprise, tinged with fear.

Arabella dreaded the open doorway with each step she took toward it. But Henri was relentless. He had no sympathy for her plight or the humiliation that waited beyond the doors as he propelled her forward with the sting of the whip. Then, she emerged from the dark interior of the stable out into the bright sunlight of the open yard. There were men gathered about the fence that enclosed the small stable yard and others milling about some distance beyond, busy at various chores. As she came into view the men began to murmur excitedly among themselves, pointing in he direction, until a large-size gathering of people surrounded the perimeter of the fence, straining to get a look at her.

There was no where she could run or hide. The small fenced in area provided everyone with a choice view of her naked body. Her arms strained uselessly against her back, but Henri had made the bonds secure and she could not shield herself from the assault of their eyes, or the insults from their lips.

"Look at them little titties!" One man nudged another who stood next to him. "Ain't they beauties?"

Arabella felt her face suffuse with color feeling their eyes following her every move.

"Aye!" his friend replied. "And those legs! Strong enough to hold a man firm while he's ridin' her!"

"But at look at the treasure between her legs! With a venus mound like that, she's bound to come into heat often!"

"If his lordship means to keep her for the festival stallion, we'll not have a chance at her." someone else sighed in mock disappointment. "This one's likely destined for his lordship's private coterie."

"Come on, Henri! Use the whip on her! Let's see how well she performs in the ring!" yet another man called out.

"All in good time, gentlemen." Henri replied. "We must exercise some patience.'Tis her first time after all." With a flip of his wrist, the tip of the lash stung the cheek of her buttock as he ordered, "Assume the proper stance, Arabella."

Swallowing her pride, her embarrassment, at being so exposed to those whose eyes assaulted her from every side, Arabella did as Henri commanded. She was acutely conscious of the little bell dangling from between her nether lips and the color in her cheeks heightened as Henri came around to stand before her, tapping the little bell with the handle of the whip. Its delicate tinkling sound was carried on the air to the men who gawked at her from the other side of the fence.

"Gentlemen, there is no need to remind you, that this little mare is off limits." Henri cocked an eyebrow at their audience. "I know his lordship tends to turn a blind eye to your indiscretions with the other mares, but Arabella here, is destined for the festival stallion, and he will personally horsewhip any man who spoils her before the mating ritual. Do I make myself clear?" he asked looking at them pointedly.

There were some disgruntled murmurings in the crowd, but none dared to challenge Henri's warning as they knew it came directly from Lord Thayer himself.

"Right then." Henri nodded. "'Tis time to begin her training. You may stay and watch if you like, but I want no distractions. His lordship wants her in the paddock this afternoon and I must have her ready."

Henri turned to Arabella once more. "We are going to start with a nice walk around the inside of the fence." he informed her. "Just like before, raise your knees in a high-stepping march. Make those pretty breasts of yours bounce. His lordship has a particular fondness for small, well-shaped breasts. I will use the whip on you, so do not be surprised. You must learn to distinguish when you are being reprimanded with the lash and when it is being used to encourage you to do your best. . . . .or to reward you for a task well done." He moved to stand behind her.

Trembling, Arabella waited for what seemed an interminable time for that first sting of the whip to kiss her buttocks, although it was only a mere moment before the crack of the leather sounded behind her. With a yelp of surprise and pain, Arabella marched off, the sound of male laughter smarting in her ears.

"Raise your knees higher, Arabella! With spirit, like I told you!" Henri called behind her, and again, she felt the whip brought down on the naked flesh of her buttocks.

She struggled to obey each of his instructions, raising her knees nearly to her chest as she completed the circle. When Henri ordered her to a halt, she forgot, and did not assume the position as he had taught her, and angrily, Henri forced her to bend over a small, raised beam in the center of the yard, bracing her hands and feet widely apart to maintain her balance as he spanked her with a small, wooden paddle someone handed him for the purpose. Henri spanked her hard, the flat of the paddle landing exactly where he fixed his mark on her buttocks.

"Arabella, I went over all this with you in the stable." The young man fisted his hands on his hips, glaring down at her. "When standing in one place, you are to assume the proper stance of a mare. I shouldn't have to tell you to do it each and every time! A mare listens attentively and performs her tasks with ease and grace. Is that so hard to understand?" Tearfully, still bent over the beam, Arabella nodded. He swatted her again with the paddle. "We will try this once more. If you fail to obey, you will receive another licking with the paddle and I'll tack on an additional ten strokes!"

He ordered her to stand upright. . . . .and this time, he did not have to command her to take the position, she did it instinctively, fearful of another round with the paddle. The stable hand circled around her, eyeing her critically, tapping the short-handled paddle with marked impatience against his thigh. At last, he nodded his approval, set the paddle atop the beam so that all she need do was glance at it out of the corner of her eye to remember its wicked punishment.

"March about the fence again." Henri said. "And remember, I want to see some spirit! His lordship likes all his mares to be happy as long as they are in his service. Smile! Be proud of this lovely, long-limbed body of yours! Now be off!"

The sting of his whip touched her already burning backside, catching her slightly off guard, but she trotted around the fence again, never missing a step. And when Henri finally ordered her to a halt, she immediately took the required position without having to be threatened with another harsh spanking.

For the rest of the morning, Henri drove her before him, his whip at the ready, teaching her to prance, to trot, to walk, and to run with elegance and speed, until he was satisfied with the results.

"Not perfect yet," he commented as he led her back to the stable. "but you will be by festival time. Now, let's prepare you for the paddock. We must be there, in place, ready and waiting for his lordship, before he arrives."

After the degradation of the stable yard, Arabella was glad to reach the relative safety of the stable once more. Her buttocks still smarted from the spanking she'd received at Henri's hand.

The humiliation of it made her reluctant to want to venture out again. However, Henri gave her no choice in the matter. Already, he was reaching into the deep front pocket of his leather apron for a small brush. He began brushing the long, chestnut-brown tresses of her hair with gentle strokes.

"You'd better mind your manners when in his lordship's presence." Henri said in a low voice as he worked. "He expects perfection and grace from his mares. He will have no compunction about throwing you over his knee and giving you the spanking you'll deserve if you fail."

His words sent a shiver of dread through her. Arabella vowed to herself that she would not fail in whatever task Lord Thayer required of her.

Henri caught up her hair and wound it into a tight bun on top of her head, accentuating the long, slender column of her throat, her rounded shoulders. Coming around to stand in front of her, Henri lifted and squeezed her breasts, pinching the little nipples until the pink tips protruded prominently from the small, pale globes. Reaching into his pocket, he brought out to two shiny silver studs which he proceeded to clamp onto the hardened nipples, making her wince. He skimmed his hands down her arms, then each leg. When he straightened, he motioned to Cynan and Owyn who stood waiting nearby, their arms full of various unidentifiable items.

More than anything, Arabella wanted to shield herself from the two approaching peasants, but her arms were still bound behind her back and she was forced to endure their leering looks. She still recalled their rough hands upon her earlier that morning. She shuddered inwardly, taking an instinctive step backwards as they neared her. With Henri, she felt safer, more secure. He talked to her, explained what was, and what was not, acceptable behavior for a mare and what was expected of her here. In a short amount of time, he had become as intimate with her body as she herself was. . . . mayhap, more so! But these two oafs, who now surrounded her, eyeing her breasts and licking their lips, did not know her at all. She wanted to cringe away from them, but she dared not. Henri would never permit it. He had warned her already that for a mare to hide her attributes from anyone wanting to look at her was strictly forbidden. Henri would be upset, even angry, that she had not heeded his words, and might even spank her again with the paddle for her reluctance. Even in front of two horny peasants such as these, she must maintain an aloof dignity, letting them look their fill of her if they were content to do so, though, much to her relief, they were not allowed to touch her unless Henri gave them leave to.

To her dismay, Henri did. "Cynan, put the boots on her!" he ordered. "Owyn, the harness! And be quick about it! We must be on our way to the paddock shortly."

"Aye!" Cynan acknowledged, as he clasped strong fingers about Arabella's slim ankle in order to fit the boot on her. "There's quite a crowd of gentlemen gathered at the fence over there."

"They heard about the hunt this morn." Owyn said. "They want a good look at this little piece his lordship bagged out in the forest."

"You hear that, Arabella?" Henri asked her, as Cynan and Owyn continued about their tasks. "News travels fast in these parts. Lord Thayer's friends and acquaintances have already heard about you and are anxious to see the mare that will be presented and mounted at festival! No doubt, Lord Radegund will be among them!"

She listened to Henri's voice without really hearing what he said, as all her concentration was focused on ignoring the clumsy men who put their hands on her, brushing up against her deliberately, giving her nipple a sly pinch when they thought Henri wasn't looking. Owyn fitted a thick leather belt about her slender waist, lingering longer than necessary as he worked to adjust the belt, cinching it tight across her hips. Down on one knee before her, Cynan slipped ankle-length boots with heels so high and thin onto her feet, that Arabella wondered how she would ever keep her balance in them.

"Hurry up, you two!" Henri became impatient. "I don't have all day!"

Cynan hurried to lace the boots securely as Owyn placed a stiff leather collar about her throat, tying the laces snugly at the back. The collar was not uncomfortable, she could still swallow and breathe with ease, but it gave a proud lift to her head, holding her neck immobile, not allowing her to turn her head from side to side. Finally, Owyn placed a contraption of thin leather straps over her shoulders, so that it draped over her breasts. He adjusted each breast into the openings between the straps, separating them, seemingly lifting them up and away from her body, as if her breasts were separate entities unto themselves. Standing behind her, Owyn tightened the straps, then sliding his hands around to the front of her, firmly squeezed the soft globes of her breasts in his palms, his fingers digging into the pliant flesh. Arabella stiffened at his touch, but Henri had already turned to catch him in the act.

"Owyn!" Henri reprimanded him sharply. "You know this particular mare is off limits! If his lordship catches you, you'll be flogged and put in the stocks for three days!"

Owyn snatched his hands away. "Just checkin' to be sure the straps are nice and tight." He replied with a smirk and a shrug.

Arabella swallowed the lump in her throat, struggling to maintain a composure she did not feel. Any moment, Henri would lead her from the safety of the stables to an open arena, where, once again, she would be put on display and expected to perform for Lord Thayer and his friends. The prospect was frightening.

To add to her humiliation, reins were affixed to the harness belt in back. When Henri pronounced her ready at last, he gathered the reins, slapping them lightly against her backside to start her out the doors of the stable.

The heat of the sun warmed the oil on her naked skin, the scent of it titillating her senses, making her feel warm and languid, her nipples aching with their own sensual awareness from the bite of the silver studs adorning them. Her sex felt heavy with sensation, pulsing between her legs. Her buttocks quivered nervously with each slap of the reins. It all combined to make her feel more pliant, more willing to do what was wanted of her.

Henri had informed her that Lord Thayer would put her through her paces today. He would want to see how well she took to the harness, how graceful her walk and posture. His lordship would determine how well she followed direction with the whip and her reaction to performing before spectators. After that, Henri went on to explain, they would pay a visit to the holding pens, where the other mares would be gathered for rest and relaxation at the end of the day, so that Lord Thayer could introduce her as the new mare into their fold.

Once they were outside, Henri halted her to make last minute adjustments to the reins, then with a sharp slap of the leather, started her off across the stable yard, the tiny silver bell tinkling prettily as she marched in a high-stepping trot toward the paddock several yards away. Arabella fairly pranced across the grass, the jingle of the bell announcing her presence in the yard so that the stable hands and mares stopped to stare at her as she passed.

"Raise your knees higher, Arabella!" Henri called from behind her. "Show your sisters what you're made of!"

Cheeks blushing crimson with embarrassment, Arabella complied, raising her knees and planting her little booted feet with their thin, high heels firmly on the ground, her small breasts bouncing jauntily, the silver bell attached to her clitoris ringing merrily.

A small group of men were gathered outside the gate of the paddock which Henri directed her to, friends of the infamous Lord Thayer judging by the richness of their dress, Arabella surmised drawing closer. They all turned in her direction as she approached.

The men grinned, elbowing each other, their eyes roving over her body in arrogant appreciation of his lordship's most recent acquisition to his stock of mares.

As Arabella passed through the gate, their coarse comments caused her ears to burn.

"Shapely long legs!" one of them remarked appreciatively.

"Her breasts are a trifle small for my taste." another commented.

"Yes, but too large and they begin to sag early."

"But just look at her nipples! Pretty and pink and hard as pebbles beneath the studs!" another of the men stated emphatically.

"Her buttocks appear nice and tight." one gentlemen looked her over casually stroking his beard. "And firm enough to really feel the flat of a man's hand."

Everyone chuckled agreement. Arabella blushed with shame.

Once inside the gate, Henri directed her to the center of the paddock before halting her. She stood perfectly still, only her buttocks quivering in nervous agitation as she felt the eyes of the men assessing her. Henri worked quickly to unfasten the reins and remove the harness. When he heard Lord Thayer's approach, he gave a heartfelt sigh, relieved that they had made it to the paddock with seconds to spare.

Lord Thayer called out, "Remove the reins from her, Henri, but I want the belt and harness left on. She looks delightful!"

Then, turning to the group of noblemen gathered at the fence, "Radegund," Thayer acknowledged a tall, be-ringed man among the bystanders, "I am glad to see you have graced us with your presence here today." He inclined his head toward Arabella. "This is the mare I've chosen to mate with your stallion, Sajan."

Lord Radegund stepped forward, fingering his blonde goatee. "Ah! But she is exquisite, m'lord! My Sajan is as horny as a bull in the pen. He needs to mount and badly. He's grown quite temperamental of late." Lord Radegund stated, a smile twisting his thin mouth. "Sajan is jealous of the other stallions. I've allowed them to mate with each other in his presence, while he has been forced to do without for these many weeks! But he will be happy to hear that you have at last found a suitable mare for him." He cocked a thin eyebrow in Lord Thayer's direction. "She is suitable, is she not?"

"Aye! She is!" Lord Thayer replied, his dark brow furrowing slightly.

"The rumor is, m'lord," Radegund stated under his breath his gaze shifting from Arabella back to Thayer, "that she is a virgin. Is this true?"

"Aye, 'tis true." Lord Thayer answered. "Henri checked her himself when we brought her in. And when I am done putting her through her paces, you and I should meet to discuss payment. She'll not come cheap, Radegund."

"No, I thought not." Radegund pulled gently at the soft of hair of his goatee, regarding Lord Thayer shrewdly. "However, I might be interested in procuring her for myself. I am interested in finding a young wench, such as this one, to put in the midst of my stallions."

"Not this one." Thayer remained irresolute. "After the mating ritual, I am giving her to the Lady Xaviera as gift for her birthday."

"Pity." Lord Radegund murmured. "I'd hate to see her talents go to waste."

"They will not be wasted, I assure you." Lord Thayer narrowed his eyes on the mare's slender back.

Arabella's eyes wandered hesitantly over the perimeter of the paddock as Henri removed the reins, making some slight adjustments to the thick belt about her hips, fitting her breasts more securely into the harness. The paddock wasn't very large in comparison with the other, much larger fenced in areas scattered over the wide expanse of meadow which bordered the stable yard. There were several white painted boards set at various levels of height around the inner circle of the fence. These were the 'jumps' Henri had told her about, she surmised with trepidation. And again, her heart thumped frantically within her breast. Except for the harness strapped about her breasts, the belt snugged low at her hips and the high heeled boots encasing her ankles, she was naked and exposed, her body bared beneath the mid-summer sun before these richly clad noblemen. If she failed. . . . .Arabella shuddered to think of it.

"Now, just remember what I taught you," Henri spoke quietly, in an attempt to alleviate her nervousness, "and you'll do us both proud. You want Lord Thayer to be pleased with you, don't you?"

Silently, Arabella nodded that, indeed, she did.

"Then don't give him cause to be upset with either one of us. Don't shame him in front of his peers or he just might sell you off to a less benevolent owner. . . . .like Lord Radegund over there." He saw Arabella swallow the lump in her throat as she glanced across the small expanse, to the group of men conversing with Lord Thayer.

"Oh, yes, he's here. I saw him as we came through the gate. Believe me, you're too pretty a piece of flesh and femininity to grace anyone else's stables except his lordship's."

Henri stepped back for one last, cursory inspection just as Lord Thayer left the gathering of gentlemen at the fence and strode toward them. Henri whispered last minute instructions under his breath. "Stand straight. Throw your shoulders back! And show off those pretty breasts of yours!"

Caressing his riding crop in the palm of his hand, Lord Thayer approached from behind. "From the looks of her, I'd say you've done a fine job with her in such a short amount of time, Henri." He addressed the young stable hand. "I'm anxious to see what she can do. Is she ready?"

"Thank you, m'lord. Yes. I'll think you'll be pleased and proud with the progress she's made."

"Well then," his lordship returned amiably, "let's try her out, shall we?"

"Ready when you are, m'lord." Henri backed away as he spoke, leaving Arabella alone and at the mercy of his lordship.