Chapter 26
Pierre
The next morning, I resolved to let Audrey have the day’s early hours to become used to life at Chateau Lemieux, before I truly began the little drama I had planned.
I intended to teach my lovely girl several important things, but I knew she would learn them much more securely if she had the chance to settle a bit first.
She had fallen asleep in my arms and had barely stirred when I had disentangled myself to return to my own bedroom. Now I followed Aimee, carrying Audrey’s breakfast tray, into the Lavender Suite, to find my sweet little fuck toy scrambling to cover her nudity up in front of the housekeeper.
“Merci beaucoup, Madame,” I heard her say in her charming, really-not-bad American accent. Then she noticed me approaching in my dressing gown and blinked, as if trying to remember when I had left her to sleep alone in her lovely boudoir.
“Je vous en prie, Mademoiselle,” Aimee replied.
Her control over her voice, as always, impressed me.
Aimee never failed to suggest, through her politeness, the sort of degradation I knew Audrey craved so much.
My housekeeper always seemed to append a silent you little whore to everything she said, when speaking to a young lady I had brought home.
“Bonjour, Aimee,” I greeted her cheerily.
I went to the side of the bed and looked down into Audrey’s gorgeous, questioning eyes as she held the hastily gathered sheet up to cover her sweet breasts.
“Et bonjour, ma petite,” I said more softly, then bent to kiss her, noticing as I did that her face and neck had gone scarlet.
My decision to ease Audrey into my plan for her training notwithstanding, I couldn’t resist: as I continued to kiss her deeply I took hold of the sheet and began to pull it away.
Audrey whimpered in protest up into my mouth as I drew the silken fabric down, past Audrey’s midriff and even further—to uncover those beautiful breasts and the adorable furrow of her pussy between her trim thighs.
I broke the kiss at last and turned to Aimee, my arm around Audrey’s shoulders as I displayed to the housekeeper’s assessing gaze the girl I had confessed to myself—and to her—I loved.
Audrey, blushing like the sun, turned her face into my chest, burying her nose in the material of my dressing gown.
“Tres jolie, n’est-ce pas?” I inquired of Aimee, still waiting patiently with the tray, on which I saw a croissant and a bowl of plump, deep red strawberries along with a pot of coffee.
“Very pretty,” Aimee replied in English, her voice prim. “I can see you enjoy Mademoiselle greatly, Monsieur.”
That drew an adorable sob of mortification, mixed with helpless arousal, from Audrey, directly into my chest. I felt my cock harden along my thigh at the sound, so evocative of her submissive need.
I knew Aimee wouldn’t mind at all if I continued the scene in this degrading fashion—perhaps discussing Audrey’s anal training with Aimee and asking her advice as to the best way to ensure Audrey grew to take pleasure in having her bottom full of cock.
I even considered taking the opportunity to fuck Audrey’s face and requesting Aimee to provide advice to the inexperienced girl on how to take a man as deep as he cared to thrust. Tenderness, however, won out for the moment.
I pulled the sheet back up over Audrey’s little breasts and rose to take the tray from the housekeeper.
“Thank you, Aimee,” I said. “We’ll walk the property this morning. Luncheon on the terrace, I think, at one. Then I believe I’ll give Mademoiselle Campbell a riding lesson this afternoon.”
“Very good, Monsieur,” Aimee replied with a smile. “Luncheon will be ready at one.”
Audrey
As I ate my breakfast under Pierre’s watchful eye—the most wonderful, buttery croissant I’d ever had, and the ripest, sweetest strawberries…
as I dressed, without underwear, of course, but also, thank goodness, without the terrible plug…
as we ambled over the lovely lawns and through the little woods that belonged to Pierre’s chateau…
I found myself in a much more accepting, contemplative mood than I would ever have expected, after what my sponsor—who claimed to love me as I did him—had done.
The memory, recent as it was, that in the moments after I had awakened at Madame Dubois’ knock and sudden entrance with the tray he had entered, kissed me, and then showed my naked breasts and shaved pussy to the housekeeper seemed oddly distant, but also strangely fitting.
It had simply followed, hadn’t it, from what I had agreed to the previous night? And the surge of warmth between my thighs, the wetness I had actually felt gush, almost, out of me, as Pierre displayed my nakedness to his servant… that had also followed. Hadn’t it?
By the time we sat down to lunch on the terrace, with Pierre pulling out my chair for me and the Duboises waiting attentively nearby to serve the first course, the idea that the servants knew I was naked under my sundress hardly seemed to merit much concern.
Rather to my surprise, Pierre brought me back to the Lavender Suite afterwards and told me to nap if I liked; he said he certainly would, as he always did when in the country.
Even more to my surprise, when he had kissed me and departed for his own room, I did nap: a dreamless, restorative hour from which I awoke feeling like I had always lived here in a beautiful chateau, the prized possession of a wealthy Frenchman.
When Pierre appeared in my doorway, he looked even more comfortable in his country clothes—jeans and a work shirt—than he had walking the grounds that morning. Or, I realized, I had grown more comfortable here.
“Do I need, you know, like, a riding outfit? Jodhpurs, or something?” I asked.
Pierre smiled. “No, Audrey. You’re fine as you are.”
That mystified me, but I didn’t know how to ask further about it as we went downstairs and then outside, across the front courtyard, to the stables. Pierre had only pointed them out, that morning, but now we went inside.
The stables were as impressive as everything else at Chateau Lemieux—clean, spacious, and clearly well maintained. The rich scents of hay, leather, and horse filled my nostrils as we walked down the central aisle between the stalls. Two magnificent horses watched us curiously over their half-doors.
“This is étoile,” Pierre said, stopping in front of a sleek bay mare with intelligent eyes. “She’s gentle and well trained. Perfect for a beginner.”
I approached cautiously, extending my hand as Pierre had taught me during our walk that morning, when we had passed horses in the paddock. étoile sniffed my fingers, then nudged my palm with her velvety muzzle.
“She likes you,” Pierre observed, smiling as he reached for a halter hanging nearby. “Let me show you how to prepare her for riding.”
I watched attentively as Pierre demonstrated how to halter the mare and lead her from her stall. He tied her to a post in the center aisle, then retrieved a brush from a nearby tack room.
“Always groom before saddling,” he explained, handing me the brush. “Start at the neck and work your way back. Firm, smooth strokes.”
Under Pierre’s guidance, I tentatively began brushing étoile’s gleaming coat.
The mare stood patiently as I worked, occasionally turning her head to watch me with those liquid brown eyes.
There was something deeply soothing about the repetitive motion, the connection with this powerful, gentle creature.
“Now for the saddle,” Pierre said after I’d finished grooming. He disappeared into the tack room, returning with an English saddle and various straps I couldn’t identify.
“First, the saddle pad,” he instructed, showing me how to position it properly on étoile’s back. “Then the saddle itself. Gently—we don’t want to startle her.”
I helped as best I could, following Pierre’s directions carefully. He showed me how to secure the girth, explaining the importance of checking it was neither too tight nor too loose.
“And finally, the bridle,” he said, removing étoile’s halter and skillfully slipping the bit into her mouth before securing the headpiece. “There. She’s ready.”
I stepped back to admire our work, feeling oddly proud of having helped prepare the horse. “When do I get to ride her?”
Pierre’s smile changed then, becoming something more predatory that sent a shiver down my spine. “Very soon. But first, I need you to take off your dress.”
I blinked, certain I’d misheard him. “I’m sorry?”
“Take off your dress, Audrey.” His voice remained calm, matter-of-fact, as if he’d asked me to hand him a brush. “You’ll be riding étoile with nothing between you and her but the saddle.”
My face flushed hot with instant humiliation. “Here? But… anyone could walk in!”
“That’s the point,” Pierre replied, his voice taking on that silky, dangerous quality that always made my insides quiver.
“Etienne might come to check on the horses. Or perhaps Aimee will bring us refreshments. Or maybe a neighbor will ride by.” He stepped closer, his gaze intense.
“Did you forget what you consented to last night?”
The memory flooded back with terrible clarity—my desperate agreement to be disciplined and used in front of the Duboises, spoken in the throes of overwhelming need.
I hadn’t truly believed Pierre would follow through.
Even with what he’d done that morning, I realized I’d kept telling myself it was just bedroom talk, the kind of fantasy people entertained in the heat of passion but never actually enacted.
“I didn’t think you meant this,” I whispered, my voice barely audible above the soft sounds of étoile shifting in her restraints.
“I always mean what I say, ma petite,” Pierre replied, reaching out to trace my cheek with his fingertip. “And you agreed. Now, the dress.”
My hands shook as I reached for the hem of my sundress.
The stable door was partly open, allowing sunlight to stream in through the gap.
Anyone walking by could glance in and see me.
The thought made my heart race with fear, but beneath that fear lurked something else—a shameful excitement I couldn’t deny.
Slowly, I lifted the dress over my head, feeling the cool air of the stable caress my naked skin. Pierre took the garment from my hands and folded it carefully, placing it on a nearby bench. His eyes traveled over my body with undisguised appreciation.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. “Now come here and let me help you mount.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to preserve some modesty as I approached étoile’s side. The mare turned her head slightly, regarding me with what seemed like curiosity. I felt absurdly self-conscious under the horse’s gaze, as if the animal somehow understood my humiliation.
Pierre positioned himself beside étoile, his hands forming a step for my foot. “Left foot here,” he instructed. “Then swing your right leg over.”
With Pierre’s assistance, I managed to clamber awkwardly onto the saddle. The leather felt cool and smooth against my bare bottom and inner thighs, the sensation both alien and oddly sensual. I gasped as I settled into position, acutely aware of my nakedness astride this magnificent animal.
“Sit up straight,” Pierre commanded, adjusting my posture with firm hands on my lower back. “Shoulders back, chin up. A proper rider maintains good posture at all times.”
I complied, fighting the urge to hunch forward and hide myself. The position thrust my small breasts forward, making them even more visible. Pierre nodded approvingly, then gathered étoile’s reins and handed them to me.
“Hold them like this,” he demonstrated. “Not too tight, not too loose. Good.”
With that, he untied étoile from the post and began to lead her toward the stable doors, the mare moving docilely at his guidance. I clutched the reins tightly, terror seizing me as I realized he meant to take me outside—naked, exposed to anyone who might be in the vicinity.
“Pierre, please,” I whispered desperately. “Not outside. I can’t.”
He stopped, looking up at me with those penetrating hazel eyes. “You can,” he said simply. “And you will. Remember what we discussed about the nature of submission, Audrey? About how your body knows what it needs even when your mind resists?”
I bit my lip, unable to deny the truth of his words or the wetness gathering between my legs despite my mortification. The leather saddle beneath me was already becoming slick with my arousal, the evidence of my shameful excitement impossible to hide.
“Trust me,” Pierre added, his voice softening slightly. “I won’t let any harm come to you.”
With that reassurance—small as it was—I nodded minutely. Pierre smiled and continued leading étoile forward, out into the brilliant sunshine of the early afternoon.