The groom finished tightening the straps and smacked Darcy across his backside.
"A handsome equipage for a handsome animal," he said, admiring his work before driving Darcy before him with a small whip. He was responding well to training and now required only direction rather than punishment to make him move as desired.
The groom drove him out onto the Pemberley lawn where a pair of visitors awaited. Darcy pulled the gig before them and assumed the waiting pose.
The younger of the visitors gasped slightly. The groom smiled to see her blush.
"Tis an old Derbyshire tradition," he informed her. "All heirs to ancestral estates serve one year as ponies. It teaches them obedience and strength, much needed lessons for when they become master.
"They usually serve before assuming their estates, but Darcy here lost his parents in such a way as delayed his ability to serve for some time. He has served only a season thus far but you see how well he does."
The groom lightly whipped Darcy on the backside then on his cock. He maintained his attitude even as his jutting member bobbed under the assault.
Elizabeth could scarcely take her eyes away. Her aunt, jaded to the novelty by residence in the county, was more concerned about attaining her seat in the gig. The groom helped her as Elizabeth stared at the shackled man.
He was gagged and seemed to bear some object within his mouth that forced him to keep his throat open and to breathe deep through his nostrils. His hands were pinioned behind him in stiff leather shackles that kept them pointed behind him. His throat bore a high collar of the same black material, and the harness that attached him to the gig -- in which she was to ride! -- matched.
As she hesitantly took her seat the groom handed the whip to her aunt, who offered it to Elizabeth as a treat for the newcomer. She declined and watched uneasily as her aunt landed enthusiastic blows upon his rear, which she could now see sported a glossy, black tail, held in place by straps.
Briefly she had seen that his erect cock was also strapped round with leather but could scarce look upon the display before averting her gaze.
Her aunt commented on the grounds as they continued their tour of Pemberley -- drawn by the master of the house!
As he trotted Elizabeth could see that his boots bore horseshoes. The gig moved so well that they scarce felt the path. The scenery was beautiful, but Elizabeth's eyes were drawn back to the sight of the man pulling them. The muscles of his calves and thighs flexed gorgeously in the sun, and she could but admire the set of his shoulders and elegant bearing.