Story: "Yasmin's Point Of View" by Paladin

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.

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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.