"Seriously, she won't do any stable duties? What’s wrong with her?"

I hear the other girls in the stable mutter, but I know they can't do anything to me, so I make sure to yawn and look even more unconcerned. I've got like 250k followers on TikTok, and my dad probably paid ten times the membership fee for this tacky little riding club. That means I'm allowed to do whatever I want. And to ignore anything I don't.

Honestly, I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't the only riding club around for miles at our country estate. It's a total dump.

The girls around me are busy with their hoof picks, wheel barrows and (YUCK!) shoveling horse poop. The mere thought of that stuff makes me want to hurl. Who does that voluntarily? Those who can't afford not to, that's who.

They'll learn to love me soon enough, though. Everyone does. I'm rich, charming and, best of all, beautiful. Especially in my riding outfit. The girls around me are horse girls. I am an equestrienne. Tailor-made jacket over white ruffled blouse. Form-fitting breeches. Spotless riding boots. Yeah, they're going to get wise and start sucking up to me any second now. Maybe I should give a couple of them some of last year’s collection as hand-me-downs to speed up the process?

Hmm? Seems like I zoned out for a bit. Were they all huddled up discussing something? Oh well, it was probably about how pretty I am.

Looks like they started using that wooden practice horse for something? I lean slightly to the side to get a better look. One of the girls, a petit brunette, is astride the horse and seem to have some kind of ropes wrapped around her torso. One end of the rope is thrown over a roof beam and is held by a couple of other girls, keeping it taut.

Now they start shaking the wooden horse. Like, really rocking it back and forth. The girl riding it is clinging on for dear life. Seriously, it doesn't look that hard. It's not even a real horse. She must be a beginner. Whoops, she fell off! Now she's dangling from that rope, looking all ridiculous. I can't contain my cute laugh as she's lowered to the ground.

"Oh, the Stable Princess finds something amusing?"

It's one of the girls. A Red-Head. They seem to already have accepted me as their superior, with the Princess-name and all. A bit much maybe, but hey, if the shoe fits... I decide to approach.

"Well, yes. I just watched the most pathetic display of balance I've seen in my entire riding career", I snicker as the girl who failed is unwrapped from the ropes. "I guess some people aren't made for horsebacks."

The girl who fell off gets all red in the face. How unsightly.

"Yeah..." the Red-Head who spoke to me continues. "Some of us aren't all that advanced yet. Ya wouldn’t mind showing us how it’s done, wouldya?"

Geez, she speaks like such a bumpkin. And this kind of thing is beneath me, really. But I've always had a competitive streak. Perhaps the Stable Princess (that name is really growing on me!) has to show her subjects the gap in ability.

"Certainly", I shrug. "But it does look very simple indeed. I don't like when things are tedious."

"Tedious..." The red-head almost seem annoyed, but after a second there's a new smile. I have that effect on people. My maids always say so. "Are you saying you want the advanced training?"

One of the girls, a brute of a thing with a ponytail that does nothing to flatter her features, approach me with the rope. I raise my arms so she can anchor me. Not that I need it, but it looks like that's just the way this practice is done. She wraps me kind of tight. Several coils going every which way. Was the short girl before really wrapped like this before? I didn't really pay attention. One of the ropes even goes between my legs. I get a bit annoyed.

"Hey, Muscle Freak! This entire outfit is Cavalleria Toscana, so be careful! You didn't wrap that loser girl anywhere near this tight you know!"

The Brute hesitates for a second.

"S-sorry", she says. Of course she's got a stammer. "It's just... your b-body is so much f-fitter." The Brute glances at my boobs and I suddenly get it. Naturally even something like rope would look more flattering on someone like me. An hour every day with my Pilates coach. That kind of dedication gets results. I sigh and let muscle girl continue. Confidence renewed.

"Sure, give me the advanced training", I say to the Red-Head. "I guess I could teach you a thing or two."

Things then suddenly move very quickly.

The Brute guides my gloved hands behind my back and catch them in a loop of rope. Before I can react, they are wrenched high between my shoulder blades. After some lightning-quick winds and tugs, my wrists are restricted in every direction. Who gave her permission to tie me up!?

"Hey, what are you doing!" I exclaim.

Red-Head speaks calmly.

"That's the advanced practice. To keep your balance without the use of your hands. I thought you were experienced?"

What's she implying? This kind of practice isn't normal. How would anyone know about something like this? I'm quite experienced, thank you very much! Thankfully, the Brute seems to finally be finished. I’m very supple and flexible but keeping my wrists this high is still a bit of a strain. Oh well, it’s only for a short while.

"Climbing a horse like that could be dangerous, so we'll hoist you up, okay?"

Hoist?

I barely have time to process the word before a mighty tug lifts my riding boots clean off the ground along with the rest of my beautiful body. Every rope around my body squeezes me tight enough that I lose my air for a moment. What's worse, the rope between my legs presses into me like a cookie cutter into dough. My instincts tell me to reach down and try to pull it out, but that muscle-girl really did a number on my wrists. They don't move a fraction of an inch from their crossed position on my back.

Thankfully it lasts for just a few moments, as I'm lowered down onto the saddle. The ropes have all gotten tighter though. They better get me out quickly once we're done here. Especially that annoying rope down there. I glare at Red-Head who seems completely oblivious.

"Just so you know, we usually have a little bet", Red-Head informs. "If you can stay on the practice horse for one minute, you don't have to do any chores for the rest of the day... But if you lose, you have to be the last one leaving the stables tonight, and you're not allowed to speak at all until then. Deal?"

"Sure, whatever." I roll my eyes. If I win nothing changes, but if I lose nothing changes either. I'll leave whenever I wish, and I'll talk whenever I wish. What are they going to do about it? It's all a waste of time.

"Okay Princess. Then your time starts... Now!"

The horse starts rocking. All of the girls help pushing and prodding. If I had my hands I could just grab onto the reins, but that's not going to happen. I can't even use my arms to balance myself. What's worse, this thing has no stirrups, so my feet just dangle freely. That leaves my thighs. I squeeze the wooden sides of the horse like I'm about to strangle it. Usually that's good enough. I don't have any thunder-thighs or whatever, but I'm excellently toned. There is only one problem. Gravity.

Usually, gravity is enough to keep your butt in the saddle, but right now my fine buttocks are actually a good inch above contact with the leather. Because of the rope anchoring me to the roof beam. I grit my teeth. The only thing keeping me from falling off are my inner thighs. And I can feel them slipping. It's my riding pants. I like a bit of sheen, so I nagged daddy into making a custom order. Problem is that shiny equals slippery. The company representative might even have said something about that. But seriously, who cares. Usually.

I haven't lost yet though. And the minute should be almost up. I think. It's hard to tell time like this, even for someone like me. Then i feel the whole horse start to move forward. I thought it was static? Like, bolted to the ground? I glance down and see that there are indeed wheels. And now all of the girls are pushing it forward.

I squeeze and squeeze. My thighs are burning. I really hope I'm not getting red in the face. It can't look like I'm trying too hard. It doesn't work with my image. But the horse keeps moving forward. Bit by bit. Until finally, my thighs lose their grip and the whole thing swooshes out from between my legs. Of course, that leaves me hanging freely and puts all of my body weight onto the ropes again. It's just as bad as last time, but I barely shriek at all as I dangle from the roof beam.

"Oh? Looks like the Stable Princess lost?"

It's Red-Head, of course.

I won't dignify her with an answer.

"Get me down from here, right this instant!" I order. I try not to flail my legs in an unsightly way, though I feel the tip of my boot strike the Brute with the ponytail in the face as I compose myself. That's what she gets from standing too close. Not my problem if she gets a nose-bleed and she can’t get much uglier anyway.

"Ya seem to like hanging around like that? Looks pretty silly to me."

The stable girls giggle. They dare to giggle!? At me!?

"I'll ask you one more time. Didya lose or not? Just tell us and we'll getcha down, I promise."

I don't want to say it. I really don't. But I also don't want to hang around here a second more than necessary. I want down. I want these ropes off. I want to pull my expensive riding pants out of my crotch and then I want to go home. No one knows about this incident except these loser girls, and I never have to see them again. I'll tell daddy to buy a new country estate. Somewhere more stylish. France maybe. It will be like this never happened.

"Sure", I say, with poison on my tongue. "I lost. Get me down."

"That's all we wanted to hear", Red-Head says and to my absolute relief I can feel myself being lowered to the floor. My toes touch the rough boards. And then my descent stops. My boot heels still at least an inch above the ground.

"What are you doing?" I say, trying to balance. "Get me out of this!"

Red-Head approaches. She looks larger somehow. Triumphant. What's going on?

"We lowered ya down, but we didn't say anything about untying ya. Right girls?" They all nod.

Suddenly, I feel my boots being clacked together. I look down and see the Brute, wrapping rope around my legs. She has a blemish over one cheek, where I kicked her earlier. She works quick. More rope, at my calves, above my knees and my thighs. It’s very tight. Before I can react, Red-Head continues.

"So, per our agreement, you're stuck like this until the last person leaves. You’re also not allowed to speak until then. It's afternoon now, but some girls here are real diligent-like and do their chores until kinda late at night. Especially since you joined, and they’ve had to cover your part as well. Could be a long while yet!"

This is not acceptable. I don't deserve this. These country hicks think they can control me? I'm the Stable Princess! My always so composed face turns into a scowl.

"Listen here you little shits. Do you know who I am? Do you know what I can do to you!? You are nothing to me. Less than nothing. Like, mini-nothing! Get. Me. Out."

There. That should do it. I can be pretty scary when I want to. The fact that I can barely keep my balance and pivot a full 360 degrees while I talk shouldn’t have much of an impact.

But Red-Head just sighs. And then smiles.

"Yeah, I didn't really bet on ya being able to keep that yap closed."

She then puts her hand into my breast pocket and pulls out my handkerchief. I don’t consent, but I can’t do anything to stop her right now. My handkerchief is monogramed, of course. And 100% silk. She’s probably jealous. Red-Head then unfolds it and picks up a piece of fresh horse dung the size of a champagne cork.

I don't get what's going on at all.

The handkerchief is folded, very neatly, until Red-Head has a tightly wrapped package with some really nasty contents.

"Now, since ya won't shut up, we'll have to do it for ya. Ya see, this wrapped little present here is going right behind those perfectly white teeth of yours."

I instantly clam up. No. No way. Anything else but that.

"Oh? Not so talkative all of a sudden?" Red-Head says. "That's nice of course, but too little too late I'm afraid.”

My eyes dart around the stable. Trying to find someone to reason with. Someone on my side. But all I see is glee, glares and gloat. Is there really no one who likes me here? Who'll take my side? I’m rich you know! My friendship could change your life!

"It's all up to you of course, Princess. We can't really force this into your mouth. But we sure can try to convince ya! I'm not sure if you noticed, but you're kinda exposed. Helpless even.”

She traces the ruffles on my favorite riding blouse. I almost start protesting again but a glance at the folded up handkerchief in Red-Head’s hand dissuades me. How dare she touch me! I snort at her.

“Ya know? We never really use riding crops anymore. Feels too sad for the horses, I guess. But when I look at a stuck-up Princess like you? Goshdarnit if I don’t still think it has a use.”

WHACK!

My butt cheek suddenly explodes like the fireworks I saw from one of our private helicopters last New Years Eve. A moment later it burns horribly. I glance behind me. Pony-tail Brute of course. The riding crop looks tiny in her hand.

"Cease this at o-OOW!"

Another strike hits my other butt cheek. If anything, it stings even worse.

I think there's another three thunderous whacks before I hear Red-Heads voice again. Maybe four.

"We can keep this going until your tailor-made pants tear, or ya could open that mouth of yours and get this over with. Your choice, princess."

I... I really don't feel like getting spanked anymore. But having that piece of cloth in my mouth is too nasty. Too humiliating. I can't make a decision.

"Oh, and if ya keep being difficult, we might just make a video of this and post it to TikTok. How many followers did ya say you had again?"

That pushes me over the edge. Nothing that happens here can ever leave this stable. It just can't. I would be ruined.

Slowly but surely, I open my mouth.

"Ooh, someone's ready for a snack! Say 'Aaa' please!"

This girl is really pushing her luck. But I have nothing to push back with.

"Aaa..."

And just like that I feel that vile package inside my mouth. I try to get my tongue as far away as possible but there isn't anywhere to hide. The cloth dampens and I keep my jaws stretched as wide as I possibly can to not bite down on the protecting layers of cloth by accident. I tentatively prod against it with the tip of my tongue, trying to push it a bit further out over my lips.

Then I feel something push back. Pony-Tail Brute holds my head still as she wraps a roll of sports tape between my lips and around my head, pulling it tight and pushing the wad in my mouth that much deeper. "Hey! that's a $250 hair cut you're messing up!" is what I want to say, but I don't dare to make any sounds that aren't vowels, and even among them I mostly alternate between A:s and O:s.

When the tape’s formed a thick layer from my nostrils to my chin, Red-Head grabs my cheeks, squeezing them slightly.

"Told ya she'd fall for it", she says. What does she mean? Fall for what? Then I see the Brunette from before. The short one that failed on the horse before me. And I realize. She's not tied up. She's allowed to speak. The fury in my eyes shine like a thousand gemstones from the displays at Tiffany’s.

"Oh? I guess ya realized it? A bit late on the uptake, but still. Yeah, we tricked ya, silly. 'Cause you're kinda insufferable. And rude. And stuck up. And in desperate need of some manners."

Red-Head flicks my nose.

"Nothing ya can do about it now though. All trussed up with shit in your mouth. That's all it usually spews anyhow. Wouldn't chew too much on that wad if I was you!"

By now I'm absolutely furious. I'm going to punch this girl's teeth in! I'm going to break her nose! I strain against the ropes, pushing and pulling, wiggling and struggling. Since I'm balanced on my tippy toes it makes me spin in circles. I hear snickers and jeers, but I just keep going. I'm going to break out of this and I'm going to get my way. I always do. My fingers flail trying to find a knot. My legs waggle and bobble trying to find some slack in these vexing coils.

I don't know how long I keep it up for, but when I'm done, nothing has changed, except my lungs are burning and my body is sweaty and sore. I'm too tired to continue. My calves hurt from standing on my toes, but as soon as i relax the rope between my legs reminds me of why that’s a really poor idea. I've seen one or two of the girls point to my crotch, whisper and giggle before moving one. I suspect there might be a stain forming.

Every so often, someone pinches my butt, jabs their fingers into my sides or yank on the rope where it comes down from the roof beam. Every time it happens, I go into a small burst of fury. I can't stop it. I'm not built to take these transgressions. My mind turns red and suddenly I'm bouncing and fighting, nostrils flaring for air, even though I know I'm helpless until someone decides to takes mercy on me. They will do that, right? Eventually?

Hours later, one after the other drops off and leaves the stable. It's gotten dark outside. Eventually, even Ponytail Brute and Red-Head walks off. It's like they've forgotten I'm here. Wait. They weren't the last ones, were they? Am I alone?

"Aouh!?", I say. Hoping to draw someone's attention. Anyone's.

And there is someone. That Brunette girl from before. The one on the horse before me. She's still here! Praise be! She looks around. Maybe she didn't realize she was the only one left? This is perfect. From my read of her, she's way to insecure to just leave me like this. Way too much empathy.

I mumble and try to draw attention. Try to look really ragged and tired, which isn't hard, but it doesn't hurt to ham it up. She's putting down her shovel. She's coming closer. If only I could speak properly. I could bribe her to free me. Find out what she dreams about and say I’ll buy it for her. But that Brute pulled the sticky tape so tight my pretty face is all smooshed.

"Does it hurt?" she says.

I nod. It hurts. But not as much as I'm going to hurt this girl once she unties me. There is no Brute around now. No clever Red-Head. This girl is tiny and I'm in desperate need of revenge. I'll tie her up and cover her in horse shit. I'll leave her buried up to her neck in it. She wasn't the main culprit, but I'll take what I can get. And she was in on it. They all were! Sorry, nice girl! Get ready for complete humiliation!

"Do you wish to be untied?" she asks.

I reeeally exaggerate. i whimper. I beg. Come on, now. Do it! It’s so simple for you, even though it’s impossible for me. I could be free from this ridiculous demeaning situation in just a minute.

"I'll do it", she says, and I feel a swell of triumph start to build inside of me.

Then she continues.

"I'll do it, if you say 'Please'".

This girl... making someone like me beg to someone like her. But sure, I'll do it. Not like there’s any witnesses.

"Pimfh", I say. Using my best puppy dog eyes that always makes daddy buy whatever I desire. I don't mean it, of course, but she doesn't know that.

"That wasn't a 'Please'", she giggles. "That sounded more like 'Pimfh'. Try again!".

What is she talking about? How dare she mimic me like that!? Of course, I can’t say "Please"! My mouth is stuffed with a handkerchief I don't really want to think about, my face is plastered shut with disgusting sticky sports tape, and this girl expects me to enunciate? Still, I have no choice.

"Pmiif!" I try. Again, she just giggles and shakes her head.

"PMF-FGH!" i yell, accidentally making a snorting sound that makes her burst out in laughter. This pathetic girl. Laughing. At ME!?

Before I can stop myself, I notice that I've started struggling again. Trying to get to her. Cursing her with my eyes. It's just for a few moments, but I see her features grow cold.

"Figured as much", she says. "A Princess like you don't know how to say please to a girl like me if your life depends on it. You laugh and you sneer, and you prance around like nothing ever has consequences. It actually annoys me to no end. You didn't mean any of those 'Pleases'. I could tell."

Seriously. What's with this girl. She's like a psychic or something.

She takes out her phone.

“I did take quite a bit of video, though. Especially of you getting spanked and fed. We were told not to, but no one ever takes notice of me, so I did it anyway. Just in case you got any ideas. This is a very nice riding club, and I don't want anything bad to happen to it.”

While talking she shows me a clip. My stomach turns into an abyss of ice. I look terrible. Tiptoeing in place, snorting and lashing out with all the force of a kitten while everyone is laughing at me. This time I plead genuinely. Please, Girl-I-never-bothered-to-learn-the-name-of! Don’t post those videos!

“Hmm... now you actually sound like you’re sorry? I wee bit anyway. Tell you what! Maybe you could convince your rich daddy or whatever to make a yearly contribution to the riding club?”

She puts her phone away. I want to grab it. Smash it. But it could just as well be at the Palace of Versailles, I’d have as much chance of reaching it.

“Anyways, tata for now, or whatever you rich Princesses say! I'm sure you've got oodles of servants at your beck and call, so I won't feel too bad about leaving you like this. They'll rescue you and you can go home to your mansion or whatever.”

And with that, she leaves.

As I half teeter, half hang, all bound up with the horses as my only company I realize: Why isn't one of the maids or butlers coming to check on me? Seriously, this is unacceptable! Where’s their sense of duty to their young mistress?

I recall back to this morning when they pestered me to try on dresses and sample the pastries for next week’s banquet. What happened then? Oh, right, I told them to stop nagging me and leave me alone until I called. No exceptions. Whoops.

But seriously, they were annoying me to my wits end. What was I supposed to have done!?

Basically, this is everyone's fault but mine.