The tower was a small dwelling, with a kitchen-diner on the ground floor, a living room on the first, and a bedroom and small bathroom at the top. There was a cellar and a small loft space for storage. It was all shabby, but habitable, and looked as if it had been recently cleaned. It was also warm. 'It has a geothermal system of its own, and it's wired into the estate's power supply. The old man used to let friends use it when they were down on their luck. It has a door that opens to the outside world, though it's very securely closed up now.' She led the way up to the living area, which was cosy, with a view over the public road to the fields beyond. Another flight of spiral stairs, taken carefully by Daniel without the use of his hands, produced a more expansive view of the distant hills. Another window faced the estate, though much of it was hidden by depressions in the rolling landscape. They couldn't see any buildings. The freshly made bed looked more inviting than anything else, and when he looked at Sadie, she was already removing her dress, which was substantial enough for an early spring morning. Underneath she wore her favourite corset; red with black trim. It left her breasts swinging free, and although Daniel had seen many in his short time as a sex-slave, hers were among the most fascinating. Very soon they were rubbing his face, and after pausing briefly to remove his cloak, she pulled him down onto the bed. For the next few minutes their lips were virtually glued together. Somehow the location- detached from the manor where there were always people about- inflamed their passion beyond its usual incandescence. She lay under him, holding his body, and guided him inside. 'Hard as you can', she gasped. 'Don't feel the need to wait for me.'

He did his very best, jerking his hips and pushing his feet onto the bed, but with his hands locked behind him, much of the work had to be done by Sadie, pulling and pushing him by the waist, and sometimes his buttocks. He still tried hard to keep his mouth in touch with hers. Although he still thought Chrissie-Marie's lips were unsurpassable, Sadie's curious blend of softness and vulnerability, the carefully cultivated paleness of her skin, made a change that he found irresistible. She was also very much aroused, for their brief tryst in the old quarry had been no more than an appetizer. He didn't need to wait for her, for his own climax began as she started a series of orgasms. He stayed with her as long as he could, and she supplemented his efforts at the end with her right hand. Afterwards, having foregone the use of his regulator, she had to wait for him to recover, but the time was filled with a very long and very intense kissing session. They managed a few words from time to time. 'Why do you and I fit together so well?' she asked him, possibly rhetorically. 'I'm nothing like your mistresses, and I know you love them to bits.'

He decided to answer her, whether she wanted it or not. 'That's probably why, Mistress Sadie. Because you're so different to Mistresses Chrissie-Marie and Gill, you don't seem to be in competition with them. I can love you without feeling disloyal. And, of course, you've got great tits, mistress.'

She laughed and wriggled out from under him. 'You can justify anything, Daniel. You're a slave with his own harem, and somehow you spin it so it all makes sense. Are you really controlling us all, like a puppet master?'

'Mistress, my hands are locked behind my back. You can do whatever you want with me.'

She elected not to challenge that argument, which he knew was entirely specious. Instead she reached for his genitals, and with her encouragement he was soon hard again. They were lying side by side, but now she rolled on top and pushed herself onto him. Her freedom to use her arms enabled her to control the speed of their arousal, as she pushed herself back and forth with ever increasing speed and force. It took longer this time, but the outcome was the same, and soon she was experiencing sensations so strong that she struggled to keep her motion rhythmic and her body supported by her arms. Eventually she simply flopped onto him, and their lips joined again, for he'd already finished his second climax. They kissed, then, for even longer. Even so he didn't want to stop, but she pulled away reluctantly, for they'd been there for over an hour, and it was lunchtime. A few minutes later they were dressed again, and making their way down the spiral staircase to the ground floor. Outside, they found the ponies lying close together on the ground, bodies pressed together and thighs pushed into one another's crotches. Sadie showed no interest in that, but hastened to get them hitched back to the cart. In a way it hardly seemed worth it. She just drove them a couple of hundred yards down the hill to the stream, where a largish flat area provided a natural picnic place. There were even a few rocks and stumps that formed natural seats. She unhitched them again, removed their bits, and put a bowl of their food between them. They had a large amount of a kind of muesli to share, dipping their heads down to fill their mouths, and a number of fruity bars that required them to coordinate their efforts, so one held it in her teeth while the other took a few bites.

Sadie and Daniel had a more conventional picnic lunch, the central feature of which was a large Melton Mowbray pork pie from a specialist supplier. There were lots of other salad items, and a number of little French pastries for dessert. There was a second flask of coffee; it was almost as though every eventuality had been catered for. Daniel was allowed to go over to the ponies and kiss them both, and to explore their bodies with his mouth, but no orgasms were allowed. Lunchtime was meant to restore their energy for the afternoon drive. He already knew that both were very attractive, but he concentrated on feeling the muscles of their thighs, which were visibly over-developed. He wondered what they'd be like in five years' time. Sadie soon called him back, and before they packed up Sadie used him again, lying side by side on a thin foam mattress. 'I really wonder how often we'll have this kind of opportunity', she said to him. 'Life's so busy here.'

'Never a dull moment indeed, mistress. But you do spend a lot of time in the stables and exercising the ponies. May I ask, mistress, whether you're able to find the time to keep up your whipping skills?'

'I think so, though if you want to put me to the test, I'd be happy to demonstrate. I won easily at Much Fayting, remember. I'm encouraging owners who want their slaves whipped to send them to me here, now, and I've set aside a cellar room for the purpose. I find that driving the ponies does help me with my wrist control. It's nothing like giving a punishment, but one needs to be able to vary the strength almost infinitely, and the direction, all using the same whip. I keep trying to think of new disciplines to introduce into the whipping contest. I did come up with a kind of arrhythmic writhing contest, but I suspect that the powers that be think it too difficult and complicated to judge.'

'What does that involve, mistress?'

'The subject is bound with elastic cords, and the whipping is done with a freer style, with irregular intervals between lashes. The performance is judged on the way the target twists and writhes- hence the name, with points given for the extent of the movement, but particularly it's erotic appeal. It is difficult to codify the scoring, and so far I haven't got further than an agreement in principle to include it as a display, rather than a competitive, event. I did find a wonderful subject; that new slavegirl called Annie, who belongs to Stephanie and Sarah who you probably met at Much Fayting.'

Daniel remembered all three, and found it very difficult to imagine the buxom and cheerful Annie, who seemed so innocent and good-natured, twisting and struggling under the lash. 'Surely, mistress, if a competitor had a favourite subject, wouldn't that introduce an element of collusion?'

'That's one of the problems with the event. I can imagine that some whipmasters would practice with the same slave, and whip her again if she failed to put in a winning performance.'

'You wouldn't be that cruel, would you, mistress?'

'Cruel? Wouldn't you want me to help you do your best, if you were my subject?'

Fortunately he didn't have to answer that. She'd been getting the carriage ready as they'd been talking, and it was time to climb aboard. With the ponies fresh again, they trotted off at a smart pace, taking another quite faint track that ran parallel to the estate wall.