Saraya watched as Yasmin now tried to do what she herself had done.
"You look so silly," she giggled, but no one heard her over the noise and music. It didn't matter.
Yasmin was stronger than Saraya had thought the party-girl would be. She wasn't yet faltering under her rider. But she couldn't do the dance! She just sort of stepped in clumsy rhythm, staring about her at the crowd that was staring at her, and squealed through the bit as Miguel 'encouraged' her on. He had a handful of blond-highlighted hair as well as the reins, and Saraya heard the quirt come down, more than once. She grinned. Now Yasmin was feeling the sting. Good! Serve her right!
"Come on pony! Dance now!" Saraya yelled tauntingly at Yasmin. Yasmin heard, and glared at her. And then suddenly her rival had all the motivation she needed. The girl had made up her mind.
It looked like it took every bit of energy and strength Yasmin had, but finally the girl started doing a tentative, shuffle jog, similar to her rival's, a little soft bounce to each step.
"Ha! Another dancing pony!" and similar cat calls came from the onlookers.
Yasmin's face started to become a mask of focus. It was as if she was now ignoring everything and everyone else. She danced in rhythm under her rider, clumsily still, but obviously trying very hard. She put everything she had into it. She held Miguel's legs tightly, almost passionately, as if clasping him even tighter astride her body. She even tried to make her steps graceful.
To Saraya's mounting nerves, Yasmin stayed in the zone far longer than she had thought the party-girl ever could. And when Yasmin's strength began to wane, rather than stopping, she put both feet on the floor and began to rock and grind her torso and backside back and forth under her rider, back and forth, up and down, in a very raunchy, erotic, un-pony-like motion, rather more like one of 'those' music clips. And Miguel, damn him, didn't chide her for this break in rules at all!! In fact he seemed to be laughing and enjoying himself.
And as Yasmin began to finally falter even in that, Miguel took back the control and drove her onward, the sharp little sting of the quirt bringing her back into the little dance several times.
Finally Yasmin's adrenaline ran out. She didn't just stumble, she collapsed. Miguel slid backward so that he didn't fall on top and injure her, even though he had an odd desire to ride her to the ground as she went down.
He helped Yasmin up, and very visibly made sure she was OK. Saraya glared... now Yasmin had him being properly nice to her? Just with a little bit of flashy behaviour? Oh, she loathed them both!
Miguel led the still bridled Yasmin over to her and escorted them to a fence. Yasmin pretended to whinny and prance beside her 'rider'.
Saraya laughed at her rival. "Look at yourself!" she said, wanting to embarrass her. But Yasmin just smiled through her bit, very sure of herself and not nearly as embarrassed by her little horsey roleplay as Saraya had hoped!
"That was very good, Pony Two," Miguel praised Yasmin as he removed the 'tack' from her. "Such sweet, passionate dancing! I wonder if Pony One can beat it?" He gave Yasmin a friendly smack on the backside. Yasmin squealed, but there was laughter in it.
Saraya said nothing, just giving her iciest look to them both. Inwardly, she was hoping that she could indeed do as well. She already had, it was true... but to win the stupid bet she had now made, she had to best Yasmin's effort. She felt so dumb for getting herself into such a very silly bet... at being the best horse!!
And she was worried. Her muscles were already tired. She believed herself stronger than Yasmin, but could she still beat her, having done so much 'pony' work already?
"You'd better do your best dancing, little pony," Yasmin now teased her sweetly. Of all things, she was now helping Miguel put the stupid bridle and 'half saddle' on Saraya. She did not like that at all. She must defeat Yasmin!
"Such a sweet, cute little pony she is," she laughed, and smiled at Miguel.
"Yes, she is," he agreed as he did the 'girth' up tightly. "Let's ride!"
Saraya, blushing, had to assume the position once more. Miguel swung up onto her back, and she braced her tired muscles grimly. He felt heavier than he had before. But she HAD to win. Had to!
Steeling herself, Saraya let go of the fence at the command of her rider - obeying him without even thinking, now - and tottered carefully back into the parade.
Tuesday 21 January 2014
Thursday 9 January 2014
Jason's Wheels - Part 1
This is a short story inspired by a picture on the German site Ridingboard.com, posted by a Mistress called Diana. I'd feel guilty, except that I am not using the photo, just completely and utterly stealing the idea LOL. It is also inspired by Tonypony as he is a ponyboy who sometimes switches roles, and by someone else who apparently loves the "donkey style" ride but would like the girl to actually move forward... It is not actually a femdom tale, though it begins like one, and the girl in this is not really all that submissive...
But I digress! On with the action.
**********
Jason walked through the beautiful Czech landscape. Idyllic, it was, peaceful even, all lush grass and deep forests, with lovely old barns and stables and a manor house in the middle of it all.
The peace was broken by the harsh crack of a whip and the sound of a man trying to contain his cry of pain. Jason shook his head ruefully. Only yesterday, that had been him, being ridden in sweet torment by one of the harshest Mistresses who frequented this mini-kingdom, or perhaps rather "queendom", in the countryside of the Czech Republic.
Jason - like all the other men who came here from all over Europe, Britain and elsewhere - was here of his own free will, and had paid a hefty sum of money for his stay. He had a love of being dominated by women, his particular fetish being ridden by a Mistress. During his week here, his fantasies and his limits had been met and even exceeded just a little by the experienced and sometimes merciless Ladies that owned this place. It had been paradise to him. A little bit full-on sometimes, but paradise nonetheless. He had been ridden more than he could ever have dreamed, and before coming here he had dreamed a lot. He had managed to please the two Mistresses who had had the use and training of him.
Just occasionally, very occasionally, he wished that he could switch roles and feel what it would like to ride one of these very sexy ladies instead, feeling her between his own legs as he playfully dominated her and rode her around a room for a little while. Having been ridden himself so much this week, having become much more comfortable with the Ladies who had dominated and ridden him so much, he had almost dared to ask one of them if he could try it, just for a minute to see what it felt like. But he had held his tongue, as this was truly a Femdom-only establishment, and it was plenty satisfying to have the Mistresses ride him.
As he walked toward the big barn that held all the riding tack, ponyboy carts, and other things, he was surprised to see a dark-haired girl aged of university student age, in normal casual clothes, sauntering across the fields towards the same barn. If she was a Mistress, she certainly was not dressed like it. In this erotic mini-world where all the women dressed in leather, riding gear, lace and PVC, this civilian girl looked totally out of place.
He followed her towards the barn. As they both neared the barn door, she turned and saw him.
"Oh, hey," she said in an Irish accent. "You'll be one of the ponyboys then."
"Um, yeah," Jason responded, unsure of how to act with this girl, was he required to speak to her as he would a Mistress or not?? "And... um, you are?"
"Oh, I'm Vanessa, I'm a leather-and metal-worker," she laughed at his discomfort. "Just a normal employee, neither a slave nor a Mistress. You can talk to me. You won't get in trouble unless you are rude or try to harm me."
"Did you say metal worker?" Jason said dubiously, the girl was not very tall despite looking fit and athletic in her tight fitting jeans, T-shirt and Converse shoes.
"Yes, I did," Vanessa said with a smile and a challenging look. They were in one of the tack-rooms now and she lifted a box full of metal stirrups and bridle-bits that looked to be very heavy with seemingly effortless ease and good lifting technique, carrying it over onto a large desk before beginning to sort the items.
"You are strong," Jason said admiringly, then kicked himself for stating the obvious.
But she seemed pleased by his compliment. "Thanks," she said with a wide smile. "So anyway... what are you here for?"
"I have to pick up an, um... set of wheels," Jason said. "I don't have to deliver it for an hour yet, but I got bored sitting around inside during my free time. I'm not actually sure what Mistress Ana meant."
"Ahh," said Vanessa. "I know what you mean, in fact I helped to make it. Can I show you?"
"Sure," Jason said and followed her to the cart section of the barn.
"What's your name, by the way?" she asked.
"I'm Jason, but all of the women here just call me slave," he said with a smile, making her laugh. She had a soft, pretty laugh. It was something of a relief after nearly a week of pure domination to speak normally to a woman again, even though he had loved his time here so far.
They walked past several small carts and chariots, till they stood in front of an odd three-wheeled contraption, two big wheels side by side with a strong bar set between them, another bar above that a little above his hip height, and one very small wheel in front. There were a few small straps and other bits on it, but the main design seemed fairly simple.
"Here is my baby," said Vanessa, stroking one of the big wheels. "The best push-buggy design we've seen here yet. A ponyboy and I made it together."
Jason realised what it was for. "I'm to push it while my Mistress rides me?"
"That's right," Vanessa chuckled, smiling at him sideways as she looked the contraption over. She moved in front of him, between the wheels, and looked back at him with what almost looked like a cheeky look to him, although she could have been just making sure he was paying attention.
She bent over and placed her hands on the higher bar, the one that was closer to hip height. "Like this," she said, rolling the contraption forward a few inches, then backward again.
Jason's mouth went dry. She looked rather nice bent over like that, her shoulders not quite a foot higher than her hips, her back arched in a soft "U" shape and her pert bottom sticking out. She turned and looked back at him again with her cute smile, and it seemed as if she was almost inviting him to ride her.
"Have, um. Have you ever tested it yourself?"
Vanessa stood upright once more. "Yes, I was the first rider, actually," she said. "and I've also pushed it myself. It was fun, you can go really fast, but it's boring to push it on your own."
She looked at Jason with a sideways glance again. Was she actually inviting him to ask her, or was he just misinterpreting signals that were not there??
"Do you think you are strong enough to carry a guy while pushing this thing?" He was careful to make the question sound light, but nerves made him clear his throat at the end of the question.
"Of course I am," she said as if he was being silly even asking that. Then she turned towards him, her eyes merry. "Why? Would you like to give it a go?"
She knows, Jason thought, I think she knows I want to try riding. And it seemed almost as if she wanted it too. This aroused him, the idea that this girl wanted to try it with him. Having seen her bent over with her hands on the wheeled thing, he knew his legs would hang down on either side as he sat astride her.
"Can I put stirrup straps on you?" he asked, keeping his tone playful. "I wouldn't want to go sliding off backwards as you pick up speed."
Vanessa laughed. "Sure!" she said. "But that's all, mind. No hard stuff."
She directed Jason to push the 'buggy' out into the field as she busied herself with finding the stirrups. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he heard Vanessa chuckle to herself, but she sounded like she was still enjoying herself.
She emerged from the barn wearing just her crop top, her jeans and shoes, and a strap around her lower waist from which a pair of stirrups dangled, banging softly against her legs as she walked. She blushed a little as she saw him staring at the stirrups and her bra.
"I hope I won't regret this," she laughed ruefully in her sweet Irish accent, then boldly walked right up to Jason and the push-buggy and bent at the waist, placing her hands into position and holding the bar as she leaned on it, her bare back curved in a soft "U" like a natural saddle for him to ride, her strong shoulders seemed just the right amount higher than her hips. She looked back at him invitingly once more. Confidently.
Jason surveyed her for a moment, and decided to lengthen the short stirrup-leathers so his legs would be more comfortable. Then he placed one foot in a stirrup, holding tight to her back, and swung himself up into the "saddle".
She faltered a little as his weight pressed on that one stirrup, but righted herself as he sat astride her back. This felt wonderful, feeling her body warm and breathing and bracing under him and between his legs, her back curving under his groin; and when both his feet were secure in the wide Western-style stirrups, and his hands gripping her dark "mane" like reins, he felt a little thrill of power and control over his girl-horse.
"Are you OK down there?" he asked.
"Yes, I'm fine," she said, a little breathlessly. "You are heavy, but not too bad..."
"OK then... Giddy up, pony!" Jason said and kicked his heels against her thighs as if she really was a horse. She laughed and started walking, pushing the 'buggy' in front of her.
*************
But I digress! On with the action.
**********
Jason walked through the beautiful Czech landscape. Idyllic, it was, peaceful even, all lush grass and deep forests, with lovely old barns and stables and a manor house in the middle of it all.
The peace was broken by the harsh crack of a whip and the sound of a man trying to contain his cry of pain. Jason shook his head ruefully. Only yesterday, that had been him, being ridden in sweet torment by one of the harshest Mistresses who frequented this mini-kingdom, or perhaps rather "queendom", in the countryside of the Czech Republic.
Jason - like all the other men who came here from all over Europe, Britain and elsewhere - was here of his own free will, and had paid a hefty sum of money for his stay. He had a love of being dominated by women, his particular fetish being ridden by a Mistress. During his week here, his fantasies and his limits had been met and even exceeded just a little by the experienced and sometimes merciless Ladies that owned this place. It had been paradise to him. A little bit full-on sometimes, but paradise nonetheless. He had been ridden more than he could ever have dreamed, and before coming here he had dreamed a lot. He had managed to please the two Mistresses who had had the use and training of him.
Just occasionally, very occasionally, he wished that he could switch roles and feel what it would like to ride one of these very sexy ladies instead, feeling her between his own legs as he playfully dominated her and rode her around a room for a little while. Having been ridden himself so much this week, having become much more comfortable with the Ladies who had dominated and ridden him so much, he had almost dared to ask one of them if he could try it, just for a minute to see what it felt like. But he had held his tongue, as this was truly a Femdom-only establishment, and it was plenty satisfying to have the Mistresses ride him.
As he walked toward the big barn that held all the riding tack, ponyboy carts, and other things, he was surprised to see a dark-haired girl aged of university student age, in normal casual clothes, sauntering across the fields towards the same barn. If she was a Mistress, she certainly was not dressed like it. In this erotic mini-world where all the women dressed in leather, riding gear, lace and PVC, this civilian girl looked totally out of place.
He followed her towards the barn. As they both neared the barn door, she turned and saw him.
"Oh, hey," she said in an Irish accent. "You'll be one of the ponyboys then."
"Um, yeah," Jason responded, unsure of how to act with this girl, was he required to speak to her as he would a Mistress or not?? "And... um, you are?"
"Oh, I'm Vanessa, I'm a leather-and metal-worker," she laughed at his discomfort. "Just a normal employee, neither a slave nor a Mistress. You can talk to me. You won't get in trouble unless you are rude or try to harm me."
"Did you say metal worker?" Jason said dubiously, the girl was not very tall despite looking fit and athletic in her tight fitting jeans, T-shirt and Converse shoes.
"Yes, I did," Vanessa said with a smile and a challenging look. They were in one of the tack-rooms now and she lifted a box full of metal stirrups and bridle-bits that looked to be very heavy with seemingly effortless ease and good lifting technique, carrying it over onto a large desk before beginning to sort the items.
"You are strong," Jason said admiringly, then kicked himself for stating the obvious.
But she seemed pleased by his compliment. "Thanks," she said with a wide smile. "So anyway... what are you here for?"
"I have to pick up an, um... set of wheels," Jason said. "I don't have to deliver it for an hour yet, but I got bored sitting around inside during my free time. I'm not actually sure what Mistress Ana meant."
"Ahh," said Vanessa. "I know what you mean, in fact I helped to make it. Can I show you?"
"Sure," Jason said and followed her to the cart section of the barn.
"What's your name, by the way?" she asked.
"I'm Jason, but all of the women here just call me slave," he said with a smile, making her laugh. She had a soft, pretty laugh. It was something of a relief after nearly a week of pure domination to speak normally to a woman again, even though he had loved his time here so far.
They walked past several small carts and chariots, till they stood in front of an odd three-wheeled contraption, two big wheels side by side with a strong bar set between them, another bar above that a little above his hip height, and one very small wheel in front. There were a few small straps and other bits on it, but the main design seemed fairly simple.
"Here is my baby," said Vanessa, stroking one of the big wheels. "The best push-buggy design we've seen here yet. A ponyboy and I made it together."
Jason realised what it was for. "I'm to push it while my Mistress rides me?"
"That's right," Vanessa chuckled, smiling at him sideways as she looked the contraption over. She moved in front of him, between the wheels, and looked back at him with what almost looked like a cheeky look to him, although she could have been just making sure he was paying attention.
She bent over and placed her hands on the higher bar, the one that was closer to hip height. "Like this," she said, rolling the contraption forward a few inches, then backward again.
Jason's mouth went dry. She looked rather nice bent over like that, her shoulders not quite a foot higher than her hips, her back arched in a soft "U" shape and her pert bottom sticking out. She turned and looked back at him again with her cute smile, and it seemed as if she was almost inviting him to ride her.
"Have, um. Have you ever tested it yourself?"
Vanessa stood upright once more. "Yes, I was the first rider, actually," she said. "and I've also pushed it myself. It was fun, you can go really fast, but it's boring to push it on your own."
She looked at Jason with a sideways glance again. Was she actually inviting him to ask her, or was he just misinterpreting signals that were not there??
"Do you think you are strong enough to carry a guy while pushing this thing?" He was careful to make the question sound light, but nerves made him clear his throat at the end of the question.
"Of course I am," she said as if he was being silly even asking that. Then she turned towards him, her eyes merry. "Why? Would you like to give it a go?"
She knows, Jason thought, I think she knows I want to try riding. And it seemed almost as if she wanted it too. This aroused him, the idea that this girl wanted to try it with him. Having seen her bent over with her hands on the wheeled thing, he knew his legs would hang down on either side as he sat astride her.
"Can I put stirrup straps on you?" he asked, keeping his tone playful. "I wouldn't want to go sliding off backwards as you pick up speed."
Vanessa laughed. "Sure!" she said. "But that's all, mind. No hard stuff."
She directed Jason to push the 'buggy' out into the field as she busied herself with finding the stirrups. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he heard Vanessa chuckle to herself, but she sounded like she was still enjoying herself.
She emerged from the barn wearing just her crop top, her jeans and shoes, and a strap around her lower waist from which a pair of stirrups dangled, banging softly against her legs as she walked. She blushed a little as she saw him staring at the stirrups and her bra.
"I hope I won't regret this," she laughed ruefully in her sweet Irish accent, then boldly walked right up to Jason and the push-buggy and bent at the waist, placing her hands into position and holding the bar as she leaned on it, her bare back curved in a soft "U" like a natural saddle for him to ride, her strong shoulders seemed just the right amount higher than her hips. She looked back at him invitingly once more. Confidently.
Jason surveyed her for a moment, and decided to lengthen the short stirrup-leathers so his legs would be more comfortable. Then he placed one foot in a stirrup, holding tight to her back, and swung himself up into the "saddle".
She faltered a little as his weight pressed on that one stirrup, but righted herself as he sat astride her back. This felt wonderful, feeling her body warm and breathing and bracing under him and between his legs, her back curving under his groin; and when both his feet were secure in the wide Western-style stirrups, and his hands gripping her dark "mane" like reins, he felt a little thrill of power and control over his girl-horse.
"Are you OK down there?" he asked.
"Yes, I'm fine," she said, a little breathlessly. "You are heavy, but not too bad..."
"OK then... Giddy up, pony!" Jason said and kicked his heels against her thighs as if she really was a horse. She laughed and started walking, pushing the 'buggy' in front of her.
*************
Saraya's Bet Part 4
Saraya bent over further, her back now nearly horizontal with him still astride, her hands on her slightly bent knees, gasping for breath as she tried to recover. Her body longed to drop him, but after what had happened she didn't dare. Miguel just sat there amused for a minute or so.
"Walk a little like that" he commanded and touched his heels lightly to her. She obeyed without thinking and he smiled at the level of obedience he had brought her to.
It was difficult to walk while bent over that far under his weight. The balance was tricky, the load felt heavier and Saraya's exhausted muscles did not want to obey her. She staggered slowly forward under him.
"OK, straighten up a bit," he allowed. The girl straightened her torso to half-bent with a gasp of relief.
Then a giggle came from nearby.
"Look at that," Yasmin laughed, that truly mocking laughter that only the popular girls seem to know how to do, and that those who are less fortunate hear all too often. "Saraya the pony-girl!"
Somehow the other girl's tone snapped something within Saraya. It was one taunt too many. Fury flaring, not even thinking, she dropped to all fours in a surge of adrenaline, totally surprising her rider, slithering out from between Miguel's legs before he even knew what was happening.
She came at Yasmin who just looked on in shock, and tackled the other girl to the ground!
"Catfight! Catfight!" called the guys nearby and a small circle of people surrounded the two girls wrestling. Saraya's sudden tackle had given her the advantage and she had the popular girl mostly pinned.
"Get OFF me!" Yasmin protested, struggling, trying to dislodge her attacker. But Saraya, filled with adrenaline and determination, used Yasmin's struggles to turn her over onto her stomach, then pinned her with both her arms behind her back!
Soon Yasmin was still wriggling and swearing under her rival, but unable to get free with her arms held as they were. Both girls panting for breath. Saraya looked around at the faces staring at them.
A wild idea came to her. She smiled suddenly.
"Her turn!" she managed to say through the horse-bit. The way she had Yasmin pinned she was sitting astride her lower back, and Saraya pantomined kicking her heels against the outside of the pinned girl's legs.
"No way, get off me, you stupid bitch!" spat Yasmin, wriggling, but everyone watching laughed, Miguel too.
"You did tease her a lot," he chuckled as he eyed the struggling party girl. "I think it's only fair..."
He leant down and stripped the simple bridle from Saraya's head, and Saraya held Yasmin down while Miguel put the bridle on her instead!
Then they let Yasmin up. Her face was angry, glaring at both Saraya and Miguel. Saraya laughed. She still wasn't at all pleased with Miguel, but the opportunity for revenge on Yasmin was too sweet to be denied. So she watched as the stirrup belt and pad was transferred to the other girl, who struggled against it for a moment before giving in and letting it happen. A couple of the other young guys around hooted and demanded that they have a turn as the rider, but Miguel waved them off.
"A contest," he said to the two of them, having to speak loudly over the music and noise. His eyes gleamed. "We see how long your friend can carry me now. Then you again. If you can do better than her, the debt is absolved. If not, then she gets to ride on you!"
Saraya weighed the risk, then her eyes gleamed.
"Of course I'll take that," she flared proudly, "Yasmin's a weak little party girl!"
Yasmin glared.
But that glare was not to last. Miguel had her lean over and support herself on Saraya, and in moments he was mounted on Yasmin's back, his feet in the stirrups once more, feeling her slim young body adjust to the strain of carrying him.
With tentative steps Yasmin moved forward, very slowly, and protested something incomprehensible through the bit. Miguel prodded her lightly with the spurs... and the girl squealed with fright, moving sideways instead of forwards!
Saraya laughed. The man had barely even touched her rival with the aids and already she was jumping like a spooked horse!
The parade was moving now and Saraya walked along with it, alongside the 'new' horse girl and rider, feeling light headed and oddly calm. It wasn't just her now, which lessened her feeling of humiliation. Now it just looked silly. Particularly when it was her rival being the pony!
Saraya's thighs and backside still felt a bit heated from her own less than gentle experience, but with the leftover endorphins still flowing she found she didn't care that much. Especially not since she was going to win.
To be continued.
"Walk a little like that" he commanded and touched his heels lightly to her. She obeyed without thinking and he smiled at the level of obedience he had brought her to.
It was difficult to walk while bent over that far under his weight. The balance was tricky, the load felt heavier and Saraya's exhausted muscles did not want to obey her. She staggered slowly forward under him.
"OK, straighten up a bit," he allowed. The girl straightened her torso to half-bent with a gasp of relief.
Then a giggle came from nearby.
"Look at that," Yasmin laughed, that truly mocking laughter that only the popular girls seem to know how to do, and that those who are less fortunate hear all too often. "Saraya the pony-girl!"
Somehow the other girl's tone snapped something within Saraya. It was one taunt too many. Fury flaring, not even thinking, she dropped to all fours in a surge of adrenaline, totally surprising her rider, slithering out from between Miguel's legs before he even knew what was happening.
She came at Yasmin who just looked on in shock, and tackled the other girl to the ground!
"Catfight! Catfight!" called the guys nearby and a small circle of people surrounded the two girls wrestling. Saraya's sudden tackle had given her the advantage and she had the popular girl mostly pinned.
"Get OFF me!" Yasmin protested, struggling, trying to dislodge her attacker. But Saraya, filled with adrenaline and determination, used Yasmin's struggles to turn her over onto her stomach, then pinned her with both her arms behind her back!
Soon Yasmin was still wriggling and swearing under her rival, but unable to get free with her arms held as they were. Both girls panting for breath. Saraya looked around at the faces staring at them.
A wild idea came to her. She smiled suddenly.
"Her turn!" she managed to say through the horse-bit. The way she had Yasmin pinned she was sitting astride her lower back, and Saraya pantomined kicking her heels against the outside of the pinned girl's legs.
"No way, get off me, you stupid bitch!" spat Yasmin, wriggling, but everyone watching laughed, Miguel too.
"You did tease her a lot," he chuckled as he eyed the struggling party girl. "I think it's only fair..."
He leant down and stripped the simple bridle from Saraya's head, and Saraya held Yasmin down while Miguel put the bridle on her instead!
Then they let Yasmin up. Her face was angry, glaring at both Saraya and Miguel. Saraya laughed. She still wasn't at all pleased with Miguel, but the opportunity for revenge on Yasmin was too sweet to be denied. So she watched as the stirrup belt and pad was transferred to the other girl, who struggled against it for a moment before giving in and letting it happen. A couple of the other young guys around hooted and demanded that they have a turn as the rider, but Miguel waved them off.
"A contest," he said to the two of them, having to speak loudly over the music and noise. His eyes gleamed. "We see how long your friend can carry me now. Then you again. If you can do better than her, the debt is absolved. If not, then she gets to ride on you!"
Saraya weighed the risk, then her eyes gleamed.
"Of course I'll take that," she flared proudly, "Yasmin's a weak little party girl!"
Yasmin glared.
But that glare was not to last. Miguel had her lean over and support herself on Saraya, and in moments he was mounted on Yasmin's back, his feet in the stirrups once more, feeling her slim young body adjust to the strain of carrying him.
With tentative steps Yasmin moved forward, very slowly, and protested something incomprehensible through the bit. Miguel prodded her lightly with the spurs... and the girl squealed with fright, moving sideways instead of forwards!
Saraya laughed. The man had barely even touched her rival with the aids and already she was jumping like a spooked horse!
The parade was moving now and Saraya walked along with it, alongside the 'new' horse girl and rider, feeling light headed and oddly calm. It wasn't just her now, which lessened her feeling of humiliation. Now it just looked silly. Particularly when it was her rival being the pony!
Saraya's thighs and backside still felt a bit heated from her own less than gentle experience, but with the leftover endorphins still flowing she found she didn't care that much. Especially not since she was going to win.
To be continued.
Saraya's Bet Part 3
***********
The town Parade was the biggest occasion of this rural region! Much music, noise, and shouting was going on. Girls and women were dancing and laughing raucously, everyone was drinking, and horses were being ridden through the streets. Occasionally one of the riders would ask their horse to perform a piaffe or similar move, only sometimes with success; many of the horses were sidling and shying at all the noise. But this was normal.
Three of Miguel's friends now rode their horses onto the main street. Miguel dragged his "pony" out of the pickup truck and led her along behind them. People laughed and pointed as they saw the pretty girl tacked up with stirrups, half-saddle and bridle! Saraya felt absolutely, totally mortified. She had always kept herself aloof from everyone, thought of herself as something better than the usual country peasant. Now she'd always be known as the horse girl... strange, clownish, bizarre. She would never be able to live it down!!
"Git on her back!" someone yelled and others laughed and shouted their agreement. Miguel gave an exaggerated bow and turned to Saraya.
"Put your hands on that rail there" he ordered. She obeyed, feeling dumb, but knowing there was no real alternative. "Bend your knees and bend over a bit!" he commanded.
She did so and closed her eyes, bracing herself as she bent, her hands tightening on the fence rail she held. The next thing she felt was him grab her shoulders and jump nimbly onto her back from the side!
She staggered under him for a moment, his rough mounting action unbalancing her momentarily before she managed to recover. Miguel laughed, holding on. "Not the strongest horse I've ever ridden!"
He wriggled around, finding the best position astride Saraya's back which was bent in piggyback position, settled his butt against the padded saddlebag attatched to her waist belt, and slipped his feet into the stirrups. Some people who were watching clapped and cheered them and many laughed at the somewhat comical sight of a girl being ridden like a horse! Saraya closed her eyes in shame.
Miguel now took the reins and pulled them taut; Saraya felt the bit's pull in her mouth. "Move away from the railing," he ordered, touching spurs to her thighs.
Saraya took her hands off the railing, firmed up her torso under him as best she could, and moved tentatively away from the rail, sidestepping a little before finding her balance under him. He felt heavy, but she found she could actually carry him this way.
"Good, my horsey, gooood," he crooned mockingly. She might be feeling awkward and uncomfortable, but the position was quite comfortable for him and he was enjoying himself, he felt dominant, powerful, amused at her predicament, all at once. "Now we ride!" And he lightly spurred her forward.
Slowly she moved forward in an awkward, unsteady walk.
Miguel sat her back as she walked, feeling her move under him, enjoying the feel of her between his thighs. It was definitely fun! With his feet high off the ground, she really was carrying him, although like last time he could tell that it was difficult for her.
Just for the fun of it he lifted himself up a little in the stirrups before easing himself back down again. She stopped, and he realised he'd accidentally pulled on the reins and maybe unbalanced her a little too. Concentrate, he thought to himself, loosening the reins and kicking her on lightly. The spurs (and the quirt he carried) felt good too in a strange way. He didn't really intend to cause skin damage or anything, but the power they gave him felt good in their own way.
He rode her slowly forward through the noisy street, towards where a few men on horses were. Gradually her movements became more confident as she found the best way of carrying him.
Everyone who saw them laughed and pointed and yelled out comments, "Look!" "He's riding a chick!" "There's a dude riding on a girl like a horse!!!"
Soon Miguel and Saraya were the center of attention.
They were pretty near two guys on real horses, the men had managed to get their horses to concentrate enough to do that stationary trot-dance on the spot that resembled a piaffe. Nearby came the sounds of traditional guitar music from someone's CD player, almost flamenco style, popular for the "dancing horse" stuff.
"Hey Miguel!" "Cute horse!" "See if you can make HER dance!" and similar calls came from the people around them.
Saraya groaned through the bit, carrying him like this was hard enough. She knew she couldn't dance properly with him on her back. And she didn't WANT to dance with him on her back in front of everyone, either!! Being ridden in front of everyone was already bad enough! She stopped, refusing to move.
"Come on, horse," laughed Miguel atop her. "See the dance the other horses are doing? Like a shuffle. You dance like that now." And he tightened the reins and spurred her lightly at the same time. She shook her head, prancing and tossing and sidling around, so he repeated the command, also bringing his quirt whistling down across her backside.
Saraya yelped but kept fighting him, pulling back against the reins, wanting to do anything except just submissively give in! Her hands yanked at his legs, trying to pull them away from her torso and destabilise him.
WHACK! WHACK! The quirt came down in earnest now, quickly followed up by a jab of his blunted spurs to her thighs. The men watching the activity laughed and cheered Miguel on, wanting to see the rider break in his feisty "pony"!
Saraya's efforts to pry the strong legs from around her sides were proving useless, and the sting of his 'aids' was fast becoming too fiery to ignore... There was no other alternative but to obey! With a shudder and a groan Saraya began an awkward prancing on the spot, trying to lift her feet high. That felt almost impossibly difficult to keep up for long - so she tried a sort of shuffle-trot instead, transferring her weight from one foot to the other with a small bounce in each step although the "up" foot never totally left the ground. This was still hard, but possible. Without her knowing it, she was moving in a similar way to the real horses' piaffe.
"Ha! Yes, like that," Miguel encouraged her as he felt the soft little bounce. "Move those feet pony!" And he brought the quirt down across her backside again.
The sting was fiery, even through her shorts and Saraya obeyed without thinking, adrenaline charging through her body in response to the sharp command. She performed the bouncy shuffling trot on the spot, shifting her weight sharply from one foot to the other, left, right, left, right, her heart rate and breathing coming hard and fast with the intense exertion.
The onlookers laughed, "hey, she's doing it!" And indeed she was, dancing next to the two real horses. Miguel laughed and held tight, feeling the impact of each soft-heavy bounce through his backside, her movements were jouncing him softly up and down on her back with every step. It felt good. He leaned into her a little more. "This is good, pony," he hissed in her ear, "keep going! Dance!"
A minute or two more of this, and sweat began to run down Saraya's flanks as she kept up her shuffling trot-on-the-spot dance. It was exhausting! Already her body was starting to ache and protest intensely at the heavy weight astride her. She tried stopping for a moment, but her rider would not let her, pushing her on with the aids. She gasped. She couldn't stop, he wouldn't let her! Her feet picked up the pace again, her tired back still bent under her rider.
Miguel was enjoying the ride, the feeling of her rhythmic "trot" felt really good, and his very public dominance of one of the snootiest, proudest girls in town had everyone laughing and cheering. Her flagging strength somehow made it more enjoyable to push her on. Each time she slowed or tried to stop to catch her breath, he urged her on, even though he could hear her gasping for breath, feel her body tiring.
Finally the girl stumbled a little and he reined her to a halt.
"Okay, okay, easy pony," he said with a laugh. "You can rest."
To be continued!
The town Parade was the biggest occasion of this rural region! Much music, noise, and shouting was going on. Girls and women were dancing and laughing raucously, everyone was drinking, and horses were being ridden through the streets. Occasionally one of the riders would ask their horse to perform a piaffe or similar move, only sometimes with success; many of the horses were sidling and shying at all the noise. But this was normal.
Three of Miguel's friends now rode their horses onto the main street. Miguel dragged his "pony" out of the pickup truck and led her along behind them. People laughed and pointed as they saw the pretty girl tacked up with stirrups, half-saddle and bridle! Saraya felt absolutely, totally mortified. She had always kept herself aloof from everyone, thought of herself as something better than the usual country peasant. Now she'd always be known as the horse girl... strange, clownish, bizarre. She would never be able to live it down!!
"Git on her back!" someone yelled and others laughed and shouted their agreement. Miguel gave an exaggerated bow and turned to Saraya.
"Put your hands on that rail there" he ordered. She obeyed, feeling dumb, but knowing there was no real alternative. "Bend your knees and bend over a bit!" he commanded.
She did so and closed her eyes, bracing herself as she bent, her hands tightening on the fence rail she held. The next thing she felt was him grab her shoulders and jump nimbly onto her back from the side!
She staggered under him for a moment, his rough mounting action unbalancing her momentarily before she managed to recover. Miguel laughed, holding on. "Not the strongest horse I've ever ridden!"
He wriggled around, finding the best position astride Saraya's back which was bent in piggyback position, settled his butt against the padded saddlebag attatched to her waist belt, and slipped his feet into the stirrups. Some people who were watching clapped and cheered them and many laughed at the somewhat comical sight of a girl being ridden like a horse! Saraya closed her eyes in shame.
Miguel now took the reins and pulled them taut; Saraya felt the bit's pull in her mouth. "Move away from the railing," he ordered, touching spurs to her thighs.
Saraya took her hands off the railing, firmed up her torso under him as best she could, and moved tentatively away from the rail, sidestepping a little before finding her balance under him. He felt heavy, but she found she could actually carry him this way.
"Good, my horsey, gooood," he crooned mockingly. She might be feeling awkward and uncomfortable, but the position was quite comfortable for him and he was enjoying himself, he felt dominant, powerful, amused at her predicament, all at once. "Now we ride!" And he lightly spurred her forward.
Slowly she moved forward in an awkward, unsteady walk.
Miguel sat her back as she walked, feeling her move under him, enjoying the feel of her between his thighs. It was definitely fun! With his feet high off the ground, she really was carrying him, although like last time he could tell that it was difficult for her.
Just for the fun of it he lifted himself up a little in the stirrups before easing himself back down again. She stopped, and he realised he'd accidentally pulled on the reins and maybe unbalanced her a little too. Concentrate, he thought to himself, loosening the reins and kicking her on lightly. The spurs (and the quirt he carried) felt good too in a strange way. He didn't really intend to cause skin damage or anything, but the power they gave him felt good in their own way.
He rode her slowly forward through the noisy street, towards where a few men on horses were. Gradually her movements became more confident as she found the best way of carrying him.
Everyone who saw them laughed and pointed and yelled out comments, "Look!" "He's riding a chick!" "There's a dude riding on a girl like a horse!!!"
Soon Miguel and Saraya were the center of attention.
They were pretty near two guys on real horses, the men had managed to get their horses to concentrate enough to do that stationary trot-dance on the spot that resembled a piaffe. Nearby came the sounds of traditional guitar music from someone's CD player, almost flamenco style, popular for the "dancing horse" stuff.
"Hey Miguel!" "Cute horse!" "See if you can make HER dance!" and similar calls came from the people around them.
Saraya groaned through the bit, carrying him like this was hard enough. She knew she couldn't dance properly with him on her back. And she didn't WANT to dance with him on her back in front of everyone, either!! Being ridden in front of everyone was already bad enough! She stopped, refusing to move.
"Come on, horse," laughed Miguel atop her. "See the dance the other horses are doing? Like a shuffle. You dance like that now." And he tightened the reins and spurred her lightly at the same time. She shook her head, prancing and tossing and sidling around, so he repeated the command, also bringing his quirt whistling down across her backside.
Saraya yelped but kept fighting him, pulling back against the reins, wanting to do anything except just submissively give in! Her hands yanked at his legs, trying to pull them away from her torso and destabilise him.
WHACK! WHACK! The quirt came down in earnest now, quickly followed up by a jab of his blunted spurs to her thighs. The men watching the activity laughed and cheered Miguel on, wanting to see the rider break in his feisty "pony"!
Saraya's efforts to pry the strong legs from around her sides were proving useless, and the sting of his 'aids' was fast becoming too fiery to ignore... There was no other alternative but to obey! With a shudder and a groan Saraya began an awkward prancing on the spot, trying to lift her feet high. That felt almost impossibly difficult to keep up for long - so she tried a sort of shuffle-trot instead, transferring her weight from one foot to the other with a small bounce in each step although the "up" foot never totally left the ground. This was still hard, but possible. Without her knowing it, she was moving in a similar way to the real horses' piaffe.
"Ha! Yes, like that," Miguel encouraged her as he felt the soft little bounce. "Move those feet pony!" And he brought the quirt down across her backside again.
The sting was fiery, even through her shorts and Saraya obeyed without thinking, adrenaline charging through her body in response to the sharp command. She performed the bouncy shuffling trot on the spot, shifting her weight sharply from one foot to the other, left, right, left, right, her heart rate and breathing coming hard and fast with the intense exertion.
The onlookers laughed, "hey, she's doing it!" And indeed she was, dancing next to the two real horses. Miguel laughed and held tight, feeling the impact of each soft-heavy bounce through his backside, her movements were jouncing him softly up and down on her back with every step. It felt good. He leaned into her a little more. "This is good, pony," he hissed in her ear, "keep going! Dance!"
A minute or two more of this, and sweat began to run down Saraya's flanks as she kept up her shuffling trot-on-the-spot dance. It was exhausting! Already her body was starting to ache and protest intensely at the heavy weight astride her. She tried stopping for a moment, but her rider would not let her, pushing her on with the aids. She gasped. She couldn't stop, he wouldn't let her! Her feet picked up the pace again, her tired back still bent under her rider.
Miguel was enjoying the ride, the feeling of her rhythmic "trot" felt really good, and his very public dominance of one of the snootiest, proudest girls in town had everyone laughing and cheering. Her flagging strength somehow made it more enjoyable to push her on. Each time she slowed or tried to stop to catch her breath, he urged her on, even though he could hear her gasping for breath, feel her body tiring.
Finally the girl stumbled a little and he reined her to a halt.
"Okay, okay, easy pony," he said with a laugh. "You can rest."
To be continued!
Saraya's Bet - Chapter 2
***************
Saraya's Bet Part 2
***************
Saraya was not a happy girl. She had not been allowed to back out of her lost bet.
Miguel had dismounted, pulled her to her feet and led her out of the paddock; most of the guys who had watched now followed, suggesting all sorts of wild ideas from bridles and saddles to curb-bits to keep her in order, as well as more rude and lascivious ideas! To Saraya's horror Miguel had bantered along with them, even making suggestions of his own as he marched her to the stables!
She hissed in Miguel's ear as they reached the stables. "You are joking, right?? There is no way I can carry you through a parade! You cannot hold me to this!!"
Miguel had just looked at her and grinned. "You seem plenty strong enough to me, darlin', and we had a bet..."
They went to the big tack room where all of the tack and show gear for the Cavalo Preto horses was kept. As well as Miguel and a few other guys, there was one seventeen year old girl, Yasmin, who had always been one of the most popular and flirtatious - and bitchy - girls at school. Now, Yasmin was laughing just as much as the men at the idea of Saraya being humiliated like this.
Also one of the older women from the homestead came in and stood in a corner of the room, watching, perhaps making sure that things did not get too wild.
Saraya stood mute and statue-like and very grumpy indeed as the others, including the boisterous younger girl, laughed and bantered about what to do with her. The idea seemed to be that Miguel would ride her piggyback style so that everyone would be able to see them. Saddles and bridles were discussed but it was clear that all of the horse things would be far too big for her.
"Put a strap round her waist and hang the stirrup leathers from that," said Yasmin wickedly. "And put a bit in her mouth and just buckle a strap around her neck."
Saraya glared at the other girl. Yasmin just smiled mockingly back at her and then turned to Miguel. "Can't have her misbehaving!" she chirped. "Oh, this is so funny."
"Mm, not a bad idea," Miguel said. And in the end, that was what happened, although it took more than a few minutes to make it work.
The bit was perhaps the worst thing. They used one for smaller ponies. Saraya had to open her mouth and let it in, which she refused to do, tossing her head away; one of the men had to use his fingers to make her open up. Once the bit was in her mouth, held there by a makeshift strap that went around the back of her neck and under her long black hair, Saraya could not talk. Just like a horse. Reins were attatched to the rings at the sides of the bit; one of the men tugged the left rein and her head turned without her even meaning it to. She tried to protest, but all that came out of her mouth was a muffled, garbled noise. The men and Yasmin all laughed.
Ten minutes later, Miguel led a very embarrassed and humiliated Saraya out of the stables. Stirrups dangled from a heavy belt around her waist; a padded saddlebag had been attatched to the belt at the base of her back to stop her "rider" sliding off. She was bundled unceremoniously into the back of a pickup truck, and told to hold tight. And off to the parade they went, some of the men on their horses, everyone else either in pickup trucks or cars.
**************
Saraya's Bet - Chapter 1
On re-reading this, I noticed that I kind of borrowed an idea from Kanashii. Sorry, Lady K! But it's too much a part of the story to remove.
Here it is, re-published.
**************
It was early evening in the Brazilian countryside and the atmosphere was hot and buzzing. The town parade, a yearly festival the entire region looked forward to, was tonight. The big farmstead of Cavalo Preto was already half in party swing even just getting ready; the women were already dressed up for the night and many of the men were ready too. Noise, talk, banter, music, the sounds of horses and the smell of them and their leather and of smoke, all blended into a loud and festive atmosphere.
One of the riders, Miguel, a boisterous larrikin and well known fellow of the region, aged nearly forty, was warming up a large black Friesian horse of striking appearance, trying to get him into a rhythmic trot-dance; the horse was side stepping and snorting and dancing at all of the noise. Many of the horses going in the parade later would be rearing and bucking and there would be much laughter as their riders tried to get them under control (or fell off!)
Some of the guys and a few younger women sat on the fence around the little paddock, watching and calling out advice and jeering at their friend.
"He should throw your butt back where it belongs" jeered one older teenager. This caused much laughter around the ring.
"Yeah, that would be fun," called out one young woman's voice, strong and derisive and not entirely joking. "It's not like that's real horse dancing, anyways. I've seen my six year old nephew do it better!"
"Saraya!" hissed another girl, trying to shush her.
Miguel laughed, a deep rich laugh and turned the big Friesian to face the young woman who had baited him. "Really?" he said, apparently unpreturbed. He reined the big black horse and with a touch of his spurs, made it rear in front of her.
Saraya tossed her long dark hair and glared at him. "You do not impress me! The younger kids perhaps, but not anyone with half a brain! I agree with the boy - the horse should throw your butt in the dirt!"
"Saraya, you should not have had wine, it has made you mad, you know his family could call in your daddy's debt...!" hissed the other girl next to her. But too late.
Miguel's eyes darkened in his swarthy face, then they lightened and he let out a hearty laugh. "Maybe you can get what you want in both ways," he said with a grin. "Want to get rid of your debt, little girl?"
Saraya's eyes flashed with anger at being called "little girl", she was fully eighteen and thought very highly of herself, and was very short-tempered and stubborn as well. And she loathed this man for being part of the gambling scam that had gotten her family into debt.
"I am just as much adult as you are, probably more, and would welcome any chance to get rid of this debt which my family should never have been subjected to in the first place," she hissed.
"If you could win free of the debt by seeing me get thrown in the dirt as you apparently wish, my lovely, would you?"
"And just how would that be possible?" Saraya said with a sneer.
"Honey, you get to throw me in this dirt yourself, right here and now!"
All of the males who were watching laughed.
Saraya did not. "Is that another joke? Or do you mean it? I throw you, you wipe out the debt? As simple as that?"
"I mean every word," said Miguel with a grin. "You get down on all fours and I sit on your back. If you can throw me, as I know you wish to, I shall wipe out the debt. Everyone here has heard my words, so I can't go back on it."
"Saraya, don't!" hissed the other girl next to her.
But Saraya wasn't listening, she was loyal to her family and this sounded easy. She was stronger than she looked, and she was not some dumb horse, it should be easy to throw this annoying man off her back and wipe clear a debt that her family should never have been subjected to. The two glasses of wine she'd had earlier lent fire to her blood as she nodded.
"Then I accept! I shall enjoy making a fool of you!"
Miguel's black eyes flashed with amusement and fire and he held out his hand. Solemnly the dark-haired girl shook it.
"What about if she loses, Uncle Miguel?" laughed a sixteen year old boy from elsewhere on the fence.
"I'll tell about that in a moment, but I won't add to the debt too much," Miguel said with a smile. "I am always magnanimous in victory. I certainly won't ask her to make love with me, it would be like making love with a viper!"
"As if I would ever accept such an outdated, abusive proposal!" Saraya snapped in response.
Miguel laughed. "You're about to be a lot closer to me than you would like," he said. "Get down off that fence, horsie girl. Time for our little ride." He handed the reins of his horse to one of the other guys.
Saraya blushed, realising that she would indeed have to let this hated man ride on her back in front of everyone. That was embarrassing. But it was the only way. She tossed her dark hair and threw off her little jacket, leaving her in denim shorts and a fitted t-shirt, and jumped down from the fence.
"It will be fun to see you in the dirt," she spat and slithered down into an all fours position, waiting.
Miguel surveyed her. She was one of the most gorgeous girls in the region - if not for her constant viper tongue and misplaced superiority and complete lack of warmth or humour, which had kept the boys away from her. Her body was firm and lithe, slender where it mattered, but curvy and ripe in all the right areas, and her thighs and shoulders looked strong like a dancer's. She looked rather wonderful on all fours, her back had an inviting, natural downward arch which also made her firm behind look even lovelier and more round, and he smiled at the anticipation of riding her.
He swung his quirt through the empty air as he stood beside her, making her jump. Then he swung one foot over - realising he still had his spurs on, and amused at the thought - and sat carefully down astride her back.
Her back bent a little under him and he lifted his feet up straight away, letting her feel his full weight, enjoying the feeling of him pressing into her, so close, fitting into the curve of her back, his legs around her, somehow the feeling was very intimate. The onlookers were laughing and yelling out amusing advice, but his blood was suddenly pounding in his veins at just how good this felt.
He was a strong and fit man, not overweight but definitely not feather light at 175lbs, and he could tell she could really feel it and that it wasn't as easy as she had perhaps thought, her breathing quickening as she held his full weight. He made no move to make it easier, his feet off the floor and his knees around her, and he gave an experimental little bounce. Her back flexed and rebounded a little under him.
"Well little mare, now you get to try to throw me, and if you manage it, I wipe all the debts. If not, I get to ride you instead of my big Friesian in the parade, an' you still owe me..."
Even distracted by the tough job of carrying his weight, Saraya blushed beetroot red at the thought. It would be utterly humiliating, everyone in the streets would be laughing at her and cheering him, she'd be a total laughingstock. She had to throw him!!
He wound one hand tightly in her long black hair, tightened his knees and thighs around her ribs enough to make her gasp, then brought his quirt down on her shorts-clad buttocks with a loud whack. Saraya yelped and lurched upward in a half rear, pulled and goaded both at once. Miguel leaned forward and dug his spurs into her thighs, not hard enough to cause damage, but enough to make her gasp and propel herself forward!
Whoops and catcalls sounded from the onlookers as the girl started bucking and lurching under him, trying to throw him off her back!
She soon discovered that simply bucking her back up and down was just producing an energetic undulating movement, which was very easy to ride. He clamped his legs around her and the quirt came down again, and she span, trying to make her body do what she'd thought she would be able to do, trying to leap and turn and buck in circles like the rodeo broncs. But his weight hampered her far more than she'd thought and he moved with her, making it near impossible to throw him, even when he wobbled he managed to stay on and regain control. His spurs jabbed her again, once, twice, almost as if to taunt her. The onlookers laughed.
Desperate not to lose, breathless, humiliated and embarrassed, Saraya slowed down and tried to make her brain think rather than just blindly reacting. What else could she do??
She tried rearing over backwards; this was stymied by Miguel throwing his weight forward against her upper back and shoulders so that she fell back to all fours instead and nearly went down. Then she tried charging forward as fast as she could - a very fast crawl, she didn't even think to try cantering - and then she stopped suddenly and dropped the front half of her body.
This almost, ALMOST worked. The man's weight shot forward along her back... but he managed to stop himself coming off and hauled himself back into position astride her.
Saraya bucked half heartedly a few times more, then stood still, panting, totally out of breath, her limbs trembling after the wild exertion with the weight of a grown man on her back. It had only taken minutes but she had no energy left, her muscles burned and her body longed to have the weight gone.
Miguel sat upright astride her, used her hair to pull her head up and back, and raised his whip hand victoriously into the air, to the whoops and cheers of the onlookers.
Here it is, re-published.
**************
It was early evening in the Brazilian countryside and the atmosphere was hot and buzzing. The town parade, a yearly festival the entire region looked forward to, was tonight. The big farmstead of Cavalo Preto was already half in party swing even just getting ready; the women were already dressed up for the night and many of the men were ready too. Noise, talk, banter, music, the sounds of horses and the smell of them and their leather and of smoke, all blended into a loud and festive atmosphere.
One of the riders, Miguel, a boisterous larrikin and well known fellow of the region, aged nearly forty, was warming up a large black Friesian horse of striking appearance, trying to get him into a rhythmic trot-dance; the horse was side stepping and snorting and dancing at all of the noise. Many of the horses going in the parade later would be rearing and bucking and there would be much laughter as their riders tried to get them under control (or fell off!)
Some of the guys and a few younger women sat on the fence around the little paddock, watching and calling out advice and jeering at their friend.
"He should throw your butt back where it belongs" jeered one older teenager. This caused much laughter around the ring.
"Yeah, that would be fun," called out one young woman's voice, strong and derisive and not entirely joking. "It's not like that's real horse dancing, anyways. I've seen my six year old nephew do it better!"
"Saraya!" hissed another girl, trying to shush her.
Miguel laughed, a deep rich laugh and turned the big Friesian to face the young woman who had baited him. "Really?" he said, apparently unpreturbed. He reined the big black horse and with a touch of his spurs, made it rear in front of her.
Saraya tossed her long dark hair and glared at him. "You do not impress me! The younger kids perhaps, but not anyone with half a brain! I agree with the boy - the horse should throw your butt in the dirt!"
"Saraya, you should not have had wine, it has made you mad, you know his family could call in your daddy's debt...!" hissed the other girl next to her. But too late.
Miguel's eyes darkened in his swarthy face, then they lightened and he let out a hearty laugh. "Maybe you can get what you want in both ways," he said with a grin. "Want to get rid of your debt, little girl?"
Saraya's eyes flashed with anger at being called "little girl", she was fully eighteen and thought very highly of herself, and was very short-tempered and stubborn as well. And she loathed this man for being part of the gambling scam that had gotten her family into debt.
"I am just as much adult as you are, probably more, and would welcome any chance to get rid of this debt which my family should never have been subjected to in the first place," she hissed.
"If you could win free of the debt by seeing me get thrown in the dirt as you apparently wish, my lovely, would you?"
"And just how would that be possible?" Saraya said with a sneer.
"Honey, you get to throw me in this dirt yourself, right here and now!"
All of the males who were watching laughed.
Saraya did not. "Is that another joke? Or do you mean it? I throw you, you wipe out the debt? As simple as that?"
"I mean every word," said Miguel with a grin. "You get down on all fours and I sit on your back. If you can throw me, as I know you wish to, I shall wipe out the debt. Everyone here has heard my words, so I can't go back on it."
"Saraya, don't!" hissed the other girl next to her.
But Saraya wasn't listening, she was loyal to her family and this sounded easy. She was stronger than she looked, and she was not some dumb horse, it should be easy to throw this annoying man off her back and wipe clear a debt that her family should never have been subjected to. The two glasses of wine she'd had earlier lent fire to her blood as she nodded.
"Then I accept! I shall enjoy making a fool of you!"
Miguel's black eyes flashed with amusement and fire and he held out his hand. Solemnly the dark-haired girl shook it.
"What about if she loses, Uncle Miguel?" laughed a sixteen year old boy from elsewhere on the fence.
"I'll tell about that in a moment, but I won't add to the debt too much," Miguel said with a smile. "I am always magnanimous in victory. I certainly won't ask her to make love with me, it would be like making love with a viper!"
"As if I would ever accept such an outdated, abusive proposal!" Saraya snapped in response.
Miguel laughed. "You're about to be a lot closer to me than you would like," he said. "Get down off that fence, horsie girl. Time for our little ride." He handed the reins of his horse to one of the other guys.
Saraya blushed, realising that she would indeed have to let this hated man ride on her back in front of everyone. That was embarrassing. But it was the only way. She tossed her dark hair and threw off her little jacket, leaving her in denim shorts and a fitted t-shirt, and jumped down from the fence.
"It will be fun to see you in the dirt," she spat and slithered down into an all fours position, waiting.
Miguel surveyed her. She was one of the most gorgeous girls in the region - if not for her constant viper tongue and misplaced superiority and complete lack of warmth or humour, which had kept the boys away from her. Her body was firm and lithe, slender where it mattered, but curvy and ripe in all the right areas, and her thighs and shoulders looked strong like a dancer's. She looked rather wonderful on all fours, her back had an inviting, natural downward arch which also made her firm behind look even lovelier and more round, and he smiled at the anticipation of riding her.
He swung his quirt through the empty air as he stood beside her, making her jump. Then he swung one foot over - realising he still had his spurs on, and amused at the thought - and sat carefully down astride her back.
Her back bent a little under him and he lifted his feet up straight away, letting her feel his full weight, enjoying the feeling of him pressing into her, so close, fitting into the curve of her back, his legs around her, somehow the feeling was very intimate. The onlookers were laughing and yelling out amusing advice, but his blood was suddenly pounding in his veins at just how good this felt.
He was a strong and fit man, not overweight but definitely not feather light at 175lbs, and he could tell she could really feel it and that it wasn't as easy as she had perhaps thought, her breathing quickening as she held his full weight. He made no move to make it easier, his feet off the floor and his knees around her, and he gave an experimental little bounce. Her back flexed and rebounded a little under him.
"Well little mare, now you get to try to throw me, and if you manage it, I wipe all the debts. If not, I get to ride you instead of my big Friesian in the parade, an' you still owe me..."
Even distracted by the tough job of carrying his weight, Saraya blushed beetroot red at the thought. It would be utterly humiliating, everyone in the streets would be laughing at her and cheering him, she'd be a total laughingstock. She had to throw him!!
He wound one hand tightly in her long black hair, tightened his knees and thighs around her ribs enough to make her gasp, then brought his quirt down on her shorts-clad buttocks with a loud whack. Saraya yelped and lurched upward in a half rear, pulled and goaded both at once. Miguel leaned forward and dug his spurs into her thighs, not hard enough to cause damage, but enough to make her gasp and propel herself forward!
Whoops and catcalls sounded from the onlookers as the girl started bucking and lurching under him, trying to throw him off her back!
She soon discovered that simply bucking her back up and down was just producing an energetic undulating movement, which was very easy to ride. He clamped his legs around her and the quirt came down again, and she span, trying to make her body do what she'd thought she would be able to do, trying to leap and turn and buck in circles like the rodeo broncs. But his weight hampered her far more than she'd thought and he moved with her, making it near impossible to throw him, even when he wobbled he managed to stay on and regain control. His spurs jabbed her again, once, twice, almost as if to taunt her. The onlookers laughed.
Desperate not to lose, breathless, humiliated and embarrassed, Saraya slowed down and tried to make her brain think rather than just blindly reacting. What else could she do??
She tried rearing over backwards; this was stymied by Miguel throwing his weight forward against her upper back and shoulders so that she fell back to all fours instead and nearly went down. Then she tried charging forward as fast as she could - a very fast crawl, she didn't even think to try cantering - and then she stopped suddenly and dropped the front half of her body.
This almost, ALMOST worked. The man's weight shot forward along her back... but he managed to stop himself coming off and hauled himself back into position astride her.
Saraya bucked half heartedly a few times more, then stood still, panting, totally out of breath, her limbs trembling after the wild exertion with the weight of a grown man on her back. It had only taken minutes but she had no energy left, her muscles burned and her body longed to have the weight gone.
Miguel sat upright astride her, used her hair to pull her head up and back, and raised his whip hand victoriously into the air, to the whoops and cheers of the onlookers.
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