Hello, all. Paladin has written another story, this one is like a sequel to Saraya's Bet, but it is from Yasmin's view. Enjoy,.. and again, sorry it took so long to get back to post it here.
**********
Yasmin could hear the
sounds of the festival beginning. Soon the music, the crowds and the
dancing horses would fill the streets, moving through the township
until everyone reached the market plaza in the centre.
She could hardly
believe a year had passed since the last festival. There had been
times when Yasmin had wondered if that night had really happened. Her
rival had dared to challenge one of the local champions and Miguel
had made her pay firstly by riding her on all fours in a corral and
then when she’d failed to throw him Saraya had to carry him during
the festival in the place of his horse.
Yasmin remembered her
mixture of surprise and delight at the sight of Saraya on all fours
with the weight of a man bending her proud back. She’d cheered when
Miguel had plied his quirt to the arrogant girl’s backside. Yasmin
had been surprised as anyone though when Saraya had continued to
struggle and she’d seen Miguel waver when considering riding Saraya
further which is why she’d not only suggested he saddle her up but
had gone along with the men to make sure it happened.
It had been so
difficult not to laugh continuously at the sight of the oh so proud
Saraya with a horses’ bit between her teeth and stirrups hanging
across her back. Yasmin had to give Saraya some credit for how well
and long she’d carried Miguel for though. Yasmin flushed
remembering the man’s weight on her own back. The pressure forcing
her forward while the reins in his strong hands pulled her head back.
The way he’d controlled her with the strength of his legs and the
sting of the quirt on her own behind.
That had all been
Saraya’s fault! The little witch had slipped Miguel’s grasp and
attacked her in front of everyone. Yasmin was certain she could have
beaten Saraya in a fair fight but the other girl had been astride her
back before she’d had a chance. Miguel had sided with Saraya then
but Yasmin wasn’t surprised. Why would he have given up the chance
to another attractive girl underneath him. She’d felt how excited
he was from the moment his weight had settled firmly on her back. At
first she’d resented it all. Hated the thought that Saraya was
laughing at her, hated that all her friends saw her in such a
humiliating position, hated that the man sitting on her back like
some king was loving every moment.
Yasmin had quickly
found that Miguel could control her as easily as he had Saraya. She’d
realised then that fighting him was playing into her opponent’s
hands. Yasmin had decided that it was no different from taking a guy
she wanted off another girl... It all came down to who was willing to
use everything she had to get what she wanted. Yasmin smiled at the
memory. She’d thrown all she had into performing for the crowd and
driving Miguel wild. Saraya on the other hand had tried to maintain
control of the situation and her dignity. Yasmin chuckled, Saraya’s
dignity hadn’t saved her from being voted the looser by the crowd.
Yasmin had been
desperate to defeat her rival and had thought the moment the crowd
had cheered her name would have been the best feeling imaginable.
She’d been wrong. In fact that moment was easily eclipsed by the
rush of primal power she’d felt when Saraya’s resistance had
crumbled and the girl had submitted under her.
Yasmin had felt
Saraya’s submission in every fibre of her body. The flood of
adrenaline that had raced through her while the other girl had bucked
and fought peaked when the fight ended and Saraya had obeyed her
twitch of the reins and leg pressure. Yasmin had always dominated the
other girls in the town with the force of her personality but this
power over another girl, especially over a snob like Saraya, was
unequalled. No wonder Miguel had felt so excited when he’d ridden
on her back.
Some had probably
thought Yasmin would let her defeated opponent go once she’d won
and Yasmin had considered it before mounting the girl but as she’d
ridden Saraya in the festival; the cheers of the crowd, the delicious
feeling of Saraya’s back under her and the soft moans from her
mount had driven that thought well and truly from her mind.
Yasmin had made her
pony dance, trot and perform intricate dressage movements. All the
while enjoying the physical sensation of being mounted on Saraya’s
back and having the leather reins in her hands controlling the other
girls every movement. By the time they’d reached the plaza and
completed a lap of honour Saraya was trembling under her but more
importantly to Yasmin, Saraya was totally obedient.
To show the crowd who
was the better girl and who was the obedient pony-girl, Yasmin had
ridden the lap of honour without holding the reins. At the last she’d
stood up in the stirrups with her fists up in the air.
The whole ride had been
captured by her friends on their phones and all she needed to do to
recapture the moment was to hit play on the smartphone in her bag.
Tonight though wasn’t the time to revisit that victory.
Yasmin took the time to
make sure she was ready for tonight’s celebration. She wore
polished black, boots that came up to her knees and dark, skin-tight
leggings that showed all the right curves. A lightweight, white
cotton shirt tied up just below her breasts allowed the curve of her
back and the lean muscles in her stomach to be seen. The single
button allowed a generous view of her curves and neckline. She had
kept her long hair back in a ponytail so that nothing would obscure
the lines of her athletic body. Pins secured a glittering tiara that
rested just above her brow. Princess of the Festival, Yasmin loved
the title and the privileges that had gone with it. It amused her that the riding dancing game on the streets that night had started a 'princess' title. Hers.
Also in the room,
taking time to ensure nothing was out of place were two girls a year
younger than her who hoped to take her title. Yasmin sneered, none of
them deserved to be Festival Princess.
“Are you ready
Princess?”
Yasmin turned and
critically ran her eye over Miguel’s outfit. She had been very
specific about what he was to wear so that nothing would detract from
her. She nodded her approval of his clothing and to show she was
ready. Yasmin stretched enjoying the admiring glances she received
from the men in the room and the envy in the eyes of the girls.
Yasmin bent at the
waist and took hold of the dancer’s rail set before the mirror. She
watched intently as Miguel produced an elaborately tooled belt and
cinched it tightly around her hips. The belt flared in the middle
covering the small of her back but not detracting in anyway from her
toned waist. The other girls were quickly copying her.
Miguel then attached
matching stirrups to the belt and placed a delicate bit and bridle
over her head, careful not to touch a hair on her head. He drew the
reins over her head and with a smile he could not hide he mounted
Yasmin. He felt the girl adjusting her stance, moving until she felt
he was perfectly seated on her back. He drew the reins up and guided
her out of the room. The other girls similarly mounted followed. The
young men seated on them showing a mixture of nerves and excitement.
Yasmin looked across at
her opponents and measured each one. Soon they would enter the
festival. Soon each girl would experience fully the weight and
control of a rider on their backs. The blond would not look her way
and Yasmin doubted she would last. The second girl glared back at
her. Yasmin smiled, ‘that one’ she thought. When the crowd had
once again declared her the winner and Princess of the Festival she
would ride the dark haired challenger like she’d ridden the
arrogant Saraya. The excitement was already building in her.
Miguel’s
quirt lightly grazed her behind urging her forward but it was
unnecessary. Yasmin gave a playful toss of her head and began to
dance.
