Here it is... If you prefer not to read a story where the man ends up on the bottom, don't read this!
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Pony’s Revenge Part One - By Paladin
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Sasha was flicking through radio stations while driving. Apparently she found one playing something she liked and began singing along. Not recognizing the song or even seeing any resemblance to actual music I smiled. Sure in the knowledge that there were already teenagers out there who would think her choice of music was lame.
I settled back in the seat. It wasn’t like I knew where we were going so I couldn’t even offer her valuable driving instructions. I had to admit that this was an unusual situation.
Throughout our friendship it had been me driving Sasha to a destination, often without giving her any more information than the knowledge she was going to be ridden across some new terrain.
Today things had changed. Oh yes we’d always joked that one day she’d get her revenge, especially for the time I’d spurred her across a mud flat.
The thought of Sasha’s toned body forced through the dragging silt and mud until she was exhausted excited me all over again. I keenly remembered her cry of submission as I drove her across the estuary, the feel of her stomach as she bucked under me, giving the last of her energy. Then, the sight of her breasts as she wriggled out of her mud soaked crop top. Caught up in the memory I could almost feel the firm curves beneath me.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Sasha commented. “What are you thinking about?”
“I was thinking that you’re getting a lot better at wrestling.”
Sasha gave me a wicked smile, “damn right I am.”
In fact she was. Previously I could have easily let her get two or three pins ahead and still overtaken her to win. Not today though.
Wrestling had started much as usual with Sasha showing up in an outfit designed to distract me as much as possible. The first pin had ended with me straddling Sasha’s stomach and pinning her wrists high above her head. I grinned down at her as I counted to ten. She hadn’t struggled or even bucked.
During the second pin I had put her to the carpet with a quick hip throw. Sasha tried to roll away but I’d pulled her back towards me. Strangely she subsided without a struggle as I’d swung my leg over and sat down just below her ribs. With an arrogant smile I hadn’t ever taken her wrists, placing my hands on my hips and counting slowly.
“Oh this is going to be the easiest won pony ride ever,” I’d laughed.
I was still laughing when her legs swept around my waist, crossed over my chest and flung me backwards. I’m fairly certain I’d stopped laughing once her backside was firmly settled on my chest and her shins were pressing down across my arms.
One all.
Sasha went into overdrive on the third pin and seemed to be in three places at once. I tried to buck her off but she wrapped her legs around my waist and squeezed with all her might. I gave in very quickly but two pins were nothing.
Two one to Sasha.
On the fourth pin I caught her up in a bear hug, always a pleasant experience, and rolled her to the ground. Using my body weight to pin Sasha to the carpet I fought to capture her wrists. Sasha wrapped her arms around the back of my neck and pulled my head down into her cleavage, an even more pleasant experience. With my greater weight holding her down I knew I could break her grip and gain the pin. I felt her legs tighten around my right thigh, again no problem she’d tried this before and had only managed to slow me down.
Just as I was about to break free of her smother-hug I felt her heels press against my calf muscle. Sasha tightened her grip and her heels dug in. An electric wire ripped up from my leg into my back. I arched and twisted without thinking and Sasha used my own momentum to roll me onto my back.
She fairly leapt forward into a very high straddle. My right leg was numb and trying to buck with the left was not only difficult but showed no promise of moving that little wench off my chest.
I realized I was wasting energy and tried to grab her hands, wrists arms or anything that I could use to pull her off. Sasha was ready for that, more than ready in fact. She slid a little further forward until my chin was pressed up against the crotch of her jean shorts and her lovely toned thighs were framing my face. Then she squeezed. Those lovely toned legs clamped against the sides of my head and seemed intent on pushing my ears together. As you could imagine I forgot all about grabbing anything.
Sasha took hold of my wrists and pushed them down against her legs. She loosened her grip ever so slightly and counted to ten. If I even looked like resisting I knew those powerful legs would start squeezing again. She finished her count with a loud whoop and punched her fists in the air.
I knew Sasha had been getting better at wrestling but I hadn’t expected this. I had been prepared for a fun wrestle that would end as always with Sasha submitting and then giving me pony rides. Sasha had come to win.
Even this pin showed her change in attitude. She’d never sat so high up on my chest and throat. Looking straight up at her was intimidating to say the least.
“What’s the score?” she demanded.
“Three, one to you,” I replied. I didn’t even follow it up with a cheeky comment.
Sasha put her hands on her hips and looked down at me with an evil grin. “Submit and save yourself another beating,” she told me.
“Yeah right,” I started to say but her thighs choked the words off.
“Submit,’ she ordered again.
It was amazing Sasha seemed to tower over me. Her eyes and her smile said she knew she’d beaten me fair and square. My leg was still numb and her position above me seemed so dominating, what could it hurt to let her have this one I told myself. Her pleasure is in being the pony she’ll probably just ride me around the room, get tired of it and demand that I ride her anyway.
“I submit,” I said.
“What?” Sasha’s eyes widened.
“I submit,” I repeated. I wanted to look away but her thighs kept me looking up at her.
She let out a wild yell and unfastened her ponytail. Her back arched as she ran her fingers through her hair. “No wonder you get so excited,” she said. “If beating me feels half this good it’s a wonder you can stand it.”
She laughed and bounced on my chest, “I’m tingling all over and I feel so strong and powerful.”
She looked down at me, “say, I just got beaten by a girl.”
I closed my eyes and did as she said.
“No,” she growled. “Look at me and say I just got beaten by an Aussie girl!”
I did. I didn’t have much choice after all.
“Now what else do you usually make me say? Hmm. I know say, Sasha is the best wrestler and I am her SLAVE.”
She was certainly enjoying this victory a lot more than I thought she would be.
Sasha slid back onto my stomach and rested back against my legs. “All I need now is a cushion and some popcorn,” she laughed. Sasha arched one foot over my face, “kiss it slave.”
I gave it a little peck and she tapped my face with her foot. “Kiss it properly slave, like you make me do it.”
I kissed the pad of her foot softly and she squealed with laughter, “that tickles. Now the other foot.” She squealed again.
“Maybe I should make you lick and suck my toes, slave?”
“That would be mean,” I replied.
Sasha sat up and dropped herself back onto my chest. “Mean,” she repeated. “You made me kiss your spurs, you rode me through mud, twice and you rode me over sand dunes. Today I’ll decide what’s mean, boy. Also you made me call you master and by the end of today you will call me Mistress. Oh yes you will.”
Sasha stood up.
I turned over and got onto all fours.
Sasha laughed, “oh it’s not going to be that easy horsey. I’m not just going to ride you around here, I’ve got somewhere much better in mind.” She picked up the backpack she’d dropped when she’d arrived and grinned, “let’s get going slave.”
The road we were on turned from two lane tar-seal to one lane farm road to gravel track. The track finally ended in a wooden rail. Sasha pulled up and turned the engine off.
“Is this the part where everyone in the audience is yelling, Get out of the car you bloody idiot! Can’t you see she’s the Vampire Queen and you’re the next victim they’ll find sucked dry.”
Sasha laughed, “no this is the part where all the girls in the audience are cheering me on and shouting kick his butt girl!”
“This is why I don’t like chick-flicks,” I muttered.
We got out of the car. Passed the rail was a rather overgrown picnic area. A large square of grass and wild flowers that the local council had obviously not paid much attention to in the last few months.
The meadow looked lovely in the sunshine but hardly the sort of ride that would challenge me much. I smiled, if Sasha thought that this would be the ideal site for a ride that would compare to the one I’d made her give me at the beach then she was sorely mistaken. I mean carrying her around the picnic area would slowly wear me out but it wouldn’t push me to my physical or emotional limits.
There was no way she could push me hard enough to call her Mistress.
Sasha threw me a pair of kneepads. They were the hard-shelled type that inline skaters use. I doubted I’d even need them but they would make my life easier so I put them on without complaint.
Sasha took her backpack off to a small concrete toilet block. After she was out of sight I dropped to my knees. The pads worked perfectly, I hardly felt the impact. I got up and grinned, this would be too easy.
From behind me I heard Sasha call out, “get on your knees slave!”
I did and tried to look suitably submissive. Yeah right!
Sasha walked around to where I could see her. Oh if only I’d won!
She stood still for a moment then turned slowly so I could see exactly what I’d missed out on.
Sasha’s dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, my favourite form of reins, and a familiar white crop-top with the legend ‘Never give up’ embroidered on it stretched across her chest. She’d added a crisp white blouse, unbuttoned and tied up just below her breasts. This revealed the lovely lines of her stomach, toned but still feminine, and emphasized the hourglass curves that led to her hips.
As she turned she gave a wiggle, which stretched her creamy-white, skin-tight jodhpurs even more enticingly across her derriere. Luckily I was already on my knees. I would so have loved to have ridden her in that outfit!
Sasha grinned, obviously guessing what was going through my mind. As if she hadn’t planned for that exact reaction the little minx. She pointed down at the ground and I saw she was wearing leather ankle boots that perfectly completed the fantasy Pony Club Girl look.
Sasha placed her hands on her hips and tilted her foot so that the heel turned in the sunshine. Spurs! I swallowed nervously. I had used them on Sasha, once even quite aggressively and I’d loved the way her body had responded. I remembered running the rowels over her backside and down her legs. She’d quivered and trembled. Then in the sand I had raked her with them and in the end she’d called me Master and in absolute submission she’d kissed the objects that had broken her.
How would I respond? Would she be able to use them to break me?
Sasha must have been thinking the same thing. “You made me kiss these,” she purred. “By the end of today you will be begging me to let you kiss them and...” She bent down and spun one of the little spiky wheels. “You’re going to lick both the rowels.”
I wanted to say yeah right but she sounded so confident and determined. Besides I decided that ‘never irritate a girl with spurs’ would make a very good new rule to live by. Anyway that little meadow wasn’t going to break me.
From the backpack she drew out something that looked like a weightlifter’s belt, except it had two buckles. To this she attached western saddle style stirrups.
“Take your shirt off,” she ordered.
I had worn a sleeveless gym shirt to give me more freedom of movement but I guess that couldn’t compare to no shirt at all. Thank goodness I spent at least some time in the gym.
“On all fours horsey!” I felt the broad section of the belt rest across my back. Sasha mounted me and put her feet into the stirrups. She got up made some adjustments to the length and sat down again. She made another adjustment, then when satisfied she dismounted.
I have to admit her level of organization was starting to become unsettling. This was a woman on a mission all right.
“And last but by no means least,” she said.
I looked up. In her hands she held an odd collection of straps. With a few twists she got it back into shape. Reins dropped to the ground, connected to a slim rubber bit. From the bit two straps formed a framework that would go behind the head to hold the bit in place.
I rocked back onto my knees and the stirrups slid off. “Hey wait a moment,” I said. “You don’t need that!”
Sasha approached me. “How do you control and direct me when you ride me?” she asked. I looked up at her ponytail and grinned.
“Exactly.” Sasha ran her fingers through my close-cropped hair, “and how am I supposed to direct you?”
“You could just tell me where you want to go,” I suggested. “I’ll carry you wherever you want.”
She caught my chin and tilted my head up. “Let’s get something straight right now slave. You are not carrying me. I’m riding YOU! I am the one in charge today. You’ll go where I tell you to, when I tell you to and if you disobey me well, we’ll see how well you respond to the spurs.”
I remained perfectly still as Sasha placed the bit between my teeth and adjusted the straps behind my head. She was right though. I couldn’t expect to be allowed to fully dominate her and then protest when the rules were applied to me. Still if the spurs and stirrups had worried me the bit was frightening. I wouldn’t be able to talk or to resist. Sasha didn’t have the weight or physical strength to crush my body or will but this way she didn’t have to.
She snapped her fingers and I dropped back onto all fours. I felt her place the stirrup belt across my back once more. Sasha paused for a moment, no doubt surveying her handiwork. She mounted my back and spent some seconds finding the most comfortable spot, for her. She slipped her boots into the stirrups and gathered up the reins.
“Now horsey let’s start with some basic exercises, walk on.” She twitched the reins and I have to admit I responded immediately. As she rode me at a walk into the picnic area I felt one hand move across my shoulders then over my backside.
Sasha sighed, “your muscles moving under me feel amazing horsey, does it feel that good for you when you ride me?”
I nodded, not trusting to speaking.
“Very good horsey,” she laughed, “but it’s not going to save you in the long run.” She leant forward, “I didn’t wear these spurs for decoration.”
