tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29641420987034349642024-02-18T20:54:24.661-08:00Straddled, ridden, and other misadventuresUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger59125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-57714883953620138512015-04-17T00:45:00.000-07:002015-04-17T00:45:14.711-07:00Meteor: Part One (Paladin)<div class="yiv8874276453MsoNormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1427650940954_4563" style="background-color: white; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>~Edit (Susan)... Paladin said I could edit this. I had some ideas, but after wrestling with it for ages, nothing stuck. So all that's been changed has been some line-spaces added.~</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My cousin James and I spent most of our holidays together as we grew up, trying to prove who was the bravest and the toughest or as our mothers’ would say who was the most reckless and who had the least brain cells. Our mothers never appreciated the amount of planning that went into each adventure and challenge. They never understood that amount of fine-tuning it took to convert a pram into something that could nearly jump a creek or the military precision required for sneaking into the neighbours back-yard to strip their apple tree of every piece of fruit without waking their rottweiler.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1427650940954_4507" lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Turning down a challenge was never an option. The penalties were severe. Failure at seven, meant letting a girl kiss you thereby catching girl germs. By age nine we’d progressed to peeing on an electric fence as the ultimate deterrent and who knows where we would have gone from there given enough time but James and his family moved to the U.K and to a city with more people than my whole country. They did come back a couple of times during our early teens but the visits were always short.</span></span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1427650940954_4505" lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was 22 when I finally got the opportunity to visit James in the U.K. I was still very much a country boy and this was only second time I’d been in a plane and the first on an international flight. While I’d stayed on learning to manage the folks farm James had followed his father into finance and banking and he was adamant that he was going to show me just what life was like in a real city.</span></span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1427650940954_4504" lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">James wasn’t at Heathrow to meet me but there was a guy holding a sign with my name on it and he seemed to know what was happening. We got into a genuine limo, David the driver told me it was the company car James’ father worked for. When I got settled he handed me a brand new iphone and told me James had left voice memos on it. As I settled back into the seat and watched the lights, cars and people stream by I activated the first message.</span></span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1427650940954_4492" lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“G’day stranger,” his accent was more English now than kiwi but still recognisable. “Dad and I are meeting with clients from Germany so we’ll be catching up with you tomorrow. In the meantime David here will take excellent care of you.” David glanced up at the rear vision mirror and grinned. “Firstly though in time honoured tradition he will be taking you on a scavenger hunt. You may have to take pictures or collect objects and you will most certainly be humiliated. Of course you can always chicken out but I must warn you the penalty will involve tourists, a fountain, nudity and youtube.”</span></span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1427650940954_4572" lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I groaned, not sure if this was the best idea after a long flight. “Alright I’m game if you are David?”</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He laughed, “I’m paid by the hour mate so I’ve got no complaints.”</span></span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1427650940954_4575" lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I activated the next voice memo. “David will now take you to a bar famous for it’s Av gas shots. The record is five in one minute without passing out. The tab is under my name. You have to smuggle one of the shot glasses out when you leave.”</span></span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1427650940954_4577" lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I made it through three and somehow made it passed a door-sized bouncer with a glass. The second challenge involved eating a kebab from a dingy hole-in the wall which David informed me was a long standing English rite-of-passage. He also assured me the spirits in the Av gas should kill off anything in the kebab. I complained to David and to my phone that I doubted there was anything even closely resembling real meat in it. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Two young women started scrapping on the footpath. Slaps turned to hair being pulled and then they were on the ground rolling over each other their skimpy outfits in disarray. The smaller of the two girls grabbed a decent handful of hair and forced the other down. She quickly straddled the other girl and gave her two decent slaps with her free hand. “Say you quit bitch,” she yelled. The girl on the bottom mumbled something that didn’t satisfy the girl on top because she again slapped her opponent. The girl on the bottom quickly yelled out that she quit. Then to the delight of the other kebab patrons the girl on top began making out with her beaten opponent. David clapped me on the shoulder and continued recording the girls on his phone. “Welcome to London son.”</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Somewhat dazed I crawled back onto the car and turned on the next memo. “I’m sending you to a very exclusive club,” James said and I could tell from his tone that this wouldn’t be somewhere you’d tell your mother about. “You will show this phone at the door and once inside you’ll get your next challenge.”</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Any clues?” I asked David. He just grinned and shook his head.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The car eventually stopped outside the cobbled entrance to a gothic styled church. The spires and curves were lit with lurid red and purple lights. From the sounds of house music I doubted mass was in session. “Good luck son.”</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I nodded to him and got out of the car. As I walked across unfamiliar cobblestones I could see a substantial crowd coming and going. As the lights grew brighter I could see this wasn’t your typical New Zealand crowd of party-goers. As I joined a line waiting to get in I realised I was definitely the odd one out. Around me were styles ranging from cyberpunk vampire to gothic cowboy and steampunk catwomen. Jeans and a leather jacket suddenly seemed very out of place.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I got to the front of the queue and a slim black girl with eyes like a tiger wearing a skin tight catsuit confronted me behind a barrier of what looked like chromed razor wire. “Are you lost?” Her tone was challenging and when she smiled I could see she had fangs to go with the amazing contact lenses she was wearing.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Yeah you could say that,” I replied. I held out the phone and opened it to the page David had told me to use. The girl examined the image briefly then examined me for much longer. I have to admit the way she ran her tongue lightly over her teeth made me think of a cat contemplating a mouse.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“The Mistress will need to be consulted,” she announced and then held up a silver studded collar. I studied it uncertainly. “No-one sees the Mistress unfettered. Of course if you’re scared just run along like a good boy.”</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She had me there. If I quit now James would have his penalty. I bent down so that she could put the collar on. “That’s tight,” I gasped. She laughed and patted my cheek.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Do you know how to be led?” she asked. My face must have been answer enough because she leant forward and whispered, “walk two paces behind me at all times, keep your eyes down. If it helps you can stare at my ass. She winked and clicked something into place and I realised that a delicate silver chain now trailed from the collar to her hand. She turned and began walking. I followed before the chain could yank on my neck. I had to admit to myself that keeping my eyes on her well, rounded rear end did ease the discomfort somewhat. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We walked up the steps to the church, me at my two paces behind and her walking with a sway to her hips that emphasised every step. We passed that way through the double doors before turning left into a room so elaborate I could not take in all the details. My guide, escort, walker or whatever she might have called herself stopped in the centre of the room and knelt before a raised dais. I stood behind her because I didn’t have a clue about what else to do and also because the view in front of me was like something out of a Roman epic.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Men and women in various states of dress stood around the edges. Passing through gauzy curtains at the back of the dais a tall blond woman dressed in Victorian, steampunk finery rode a massively muscled man. Really rode him, like a horse, right down to the bridle, reins and dark leather saddle. She rode the man around the arc of the dais and reined him in before a marble bench. A vampire girl helped her dismount and a voluptuous red-head lay down on the marble bench without a single word being spoken. I felt like I’d walked into a play where everyone but me knew the lines and the plot. The Mistress, I assumed that’s who she was, sat on the red-haired girls’ stomach and leant slightly against her thighs as if against the arm of a chaise-lounge.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My guide stood and approached the dais. While they spoke I noticed the Mistresses’ lace covered hand was lazily tracing the contours of her seats chest. No-one else seemed surprised by any of this. The black girl gave the chain a tug and I guessed this was some kind of instruction to approach. She held out her hand and I gave her the phone, which was passed up. The Mistress adjusted her position turning so her back now rested against the red-head’s thighs and swinging her legs up so they lay along the other girls body. The girl on the bottom began to softly caress the blond’s feet with her lips and tongue.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Mistress looked at the phone then at me. “A big country boy far from home,” her voice was cultured and husky. “Look how big your eyes are,” the others laughed and she smiled. “Do you like what you’ve seen so far?”</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I glanced at the black girl and at the red haired girl who was currently doing things to another woman’s toes that I had never imagined possible. “Uhh, there’s been a lot to take in but it’s certainly impressive.”</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Impressive?” Now she laughed. “You look like you’d have stamina country boy. How would you do under a saddle and crop I wonder?” She looked at me and again I had that mouse invited to a cat’s dinner feeling. I glanced at her current mount who looked like he could bench-press ten of me but who hadn’t moved from the spot where she’d left him. I shrugged, “okay I suppose but it’s not something I’ve ever done before.”</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She sat upright, drawing a little gasp of breath from the girl beneath her. “Mmmm, that may well be worth exploring another time. For now you have our freedom to explore our little world. Emma here,” she indicated my guide, “will show you around.”</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Do I have to keep wearing this?” I pointed to the collar.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Mistress reclined once more and proffered her other foot for her seat’s attention. “Emma if you would please attend to our guest.”</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Emma gave me a little growl as she undid the collar.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Just be careful,” the Mistress advised as I turned to follow Emma out. “You country boys have a tendency to fall very deeply under the spell of our darkness.”</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wondered if she were talking about James or kiwi boys in general. As I followed Emma’s swaying behind out of the room I hoped I’d make it through tonight just so that I could kick my cousin's arse. </span></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-48568599592633907222015-02-22T17:55:00.001-08:002015-03-29T10:36:02.353-07:00Mr P's Revenge by Paladin<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Mr P’s Revenge:</span><br />
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1424654728409_6918" lang="EN-GB">Parts of this story are true, other parts are fictional and some are pure exaggeration designed to make the writer sound really awesome. I will let you decide which are which :) Mr P.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1424654728409_6815" lang="EN-GB">Susan squealed with laughter as she tumbled onto the bed, landing on her back. She immediately tried to curl up into a ball but it was too late. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Her laughter turned to a growl as I dropped heavily onto her stomach. Keeping my knees wide apart I could feel the softness as my backside sank into her lower stomach. I felt her muscles tighten under me and her thighs press against my back. Susan fought back briefly as I caught her wrists and pinned them. Before she could react I leapt forward, landing with my shins across her arms and my butt resting on her upper stomach, just below her pink crop-top. The motion made us both bounce on the bed and Susan instinctively used the momentum to start bucking.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1424654728409_6925" lang="EN-GB">I whooped as she pushed me up. I made no effort to avoid allowing my full weight to drop back down, pushing her deeper into the mattress. Her feet slipped out from under her. “Goblin breath,” she gasped.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1424654728409_6927" lang="EN-GB">I laughed, “one.”</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1424654728409_6929" lang="EN-GB">Susan adjusted her stance and tried three, short quick bucks in a row.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1424654728409_6931" lang="EN-GB">“Two.” I was so loving this position. Sitting just below her breasts meant the rising curve where her stomach met her chest gave me a fantastic view of the cleavage presented by her little crop-top and her bucking motion pressed up against me in a very enjoyable way.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1424654728409_6933" lang="EN-GB">Susan bridged me high and held me up above the bed. I could sense the tension in her body and knew she was going to try and tip me forward or sideways. I rose up a little, letting her biceps take my full weight, then bounced my butt up and down. Once, then twice before she collapsed. “Three.” </span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1424654728409_6935" lang="EN-GB">“No, no, no,” she cried. I could feel her twisting, her legs swinging from side to side in the vain hope of rolling over and pushing me off but I was seated too firmly on her.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">“Four.”</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1424654728409_6938" lang="EN-GB">She gave that up and lay still and quiet for a moment, glaring up at me as she caught her breath.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">“Five.”</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1424654728409_6941" lang="EN-GB">Susan exhaled and tried to push my legs up with just the strength of her arms. I grinned at her doomed effort and bounced up and down on her stomach, small bounces that made her puff each time.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">“Six, Pixie Pony. Looks like you’re losing this bet.”</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Susan growled and kicked her feet in frustration. We both laughed at her pretend tantrum.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">“Seven,” I patted her on the cheek. Susan responded with a wild combination of short and long bucks. “Eight. Giddy-up pony,” I managed to tap my heels against her sides. Susan bridged me high again but then as she dropped gave a short, quick buck that caught me by surprise. I shot forward but unfortunately for her I landed squarely on her chest, her cute little top vanishing under me. I wriggled to get comfortable and wrote the number 9 slowly, teasingly, across her cleavage.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">“So unfair,” she moaned.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">“Ten. Now how many is that Pixie Pony slave?” I asked.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">“Ten to you, goblin breath,” she poked her tongue out at me.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">“So we bet I couldn’t out-wrestle you like in my Casey story didn’t we?” I didn’t give her a chance to answer. “Yes that’s right we did and look here I am sitting on top of you for the tenth time. Hmm, I guess that means I won the bet didn’t I?”</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">“Yes,” she muttered.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">“What was that Pixie slave?” I taunted her.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">“Yes you won the bet,” she said louder.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I bounced a little on her chest and pumped a fist in the air in victory. “Ahh revenge is sweet,” I gloated.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">“So is riding an obedient, submissive ponyboy in public,” she grinned up at me.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh you’re so paying for that.” I took hold of her wrists and pinned her arms up above her head. I slid forward until her chin was pressed up against me and my thighs framed her face. “Now do you remember what I get for winning the bet?”</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Susan nodded in response, her chin moving very distractingly up and down. Her eyes glittered with mischief.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">“Say it!”</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Wordlessly she turned her head from side to side to say no. I reached back and tickled her ribs until she started begging for mercy. “What did I win?”</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">“A pony ride.” I tickled her some more partly to get her to answer properly but mostly because all her jiggling around under me felt amazing.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">“A topless pony ride to music!” Susan finally yelled out. I stopped tickling her and moved back to sit on her stomach to let her catch her breath. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">It might have also been to give me a chance to calm down a bit as well.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">When Susan’s breathing returned to normal she challenged me, “well if you want a topless ride you’ll have to remove my crop-top yourself.”</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I slid my hands up her sides to the edge of her top. “Dare you to,” she smirked.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I was a little intimidated, especially as this was no story but a genuine person under me. Susan raised a questioning eyebrow at my hesitation, then giggled as my fingers slipped under the edge of her lycra top. I leant forward as first my fingertips and then my hands encountered the soft curves of her chest. Susan arched her back allowing me to more easily peel back her little top. The motion also pressed her chest up against my hands so I deliberately took my time before lifting her top over her head.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I got to my feet and Susan looked up at me, “should I return the favour?” She asked. She sat up and gently slid my underwear down. Did her soft lips and tongue do anything naughty as she did so, I’m not saying they did but I’m not saying they didn’t.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I pushed her back to the mattress and straddled her chest again, loving the feel of skin against skin. I’d never felt he movement of her chest as she breathed while under me so intensely. Her breathing had quickened a little as well. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Susan gave a gentle, slow buck then arched her back, pushing her chest up. “Nice?” She asked.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I swallowed a couple of times and nodded.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">“I can’t give you a pony ride from this position though, can I?” She asked all innocently.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">“No.” I reluctantly moved off her chest and watched as she slowly got off the bed and onto all fours. I sat full weight on her hips and massaged some almond oil into her back, right up to the nape of her neck. Susan sighed as I put a little extra effort into her shoulder muscles. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Without warning she dropped forward and gave her hips a twitch. I slid a bit unbalanced down off her hips, into the middle curve of her back and up towards her shoulder blades. Straight away she straightened her arms and her shoulders rose up. I slipped back down her oil slicked and into the natural saddle her curved back again formed. I adjusted my seat, getting my balance and gathering her reins and bit up from the floor.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1424654728409_6947" lang="EN-GB">Susan moved restlessly under me, shifting her hips, stretching shifting the positions of her hands. The almond oil allowed me to feel the muscles in her back and sides moving under her soft skin. I moved forward and wrapped my legs around her ribs, feeling her soft breasts pressed against my calves. I lowered the bit over her head and reminded her that this was a pleasure ride to music not a rodeo ride. Susan grabbed at the bit and snorted in amusement.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1424654728409_6946" lang="EN-GB">I slid down her back, tightened the reins pulling her head up and gave her behind a light smack. Susan started forward but I used the reins to curb her and laughed when she grrrrd in response. “We can’t forget the music Pixie Pony.” I dismounted and hit play on my ipad. I walked back to where she was waiting, her short cycle shorts clinging to the curve of her behind. I mounted and slid into the curve of her back. Susan’s skin, the oil and the deep curve of her back were all very arousing.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1424654728409_6944" lang="EN-GB">Green Days ‘Viva la Gloria’ started off slow and gentle. Susan responded to the music by deepening the curve of her back so slowly and then just as gently rising up to an arch. As she lowered me she rolled her shoulders her hip moving in contrast as she danced under me to the music. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">There was a pause and the beat kicked into gear and this was why I’d chosen to have the reins for extra balance.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Susan moved across the lounge dancing on all fours. Underneath me her back rolled, dipped, arched and shimmied in pace with the music. As I became more familiar with her movements I was able to relax and put more of my weight onto her back and move with her. As the song progressed I could hear her breathing increase, my weight bore down on her and I did nothing to make it any easier. The thrill of riding her so hard was such a rush. I could feel when her arms started shaking and in response I drummed my heels against her thighs and pushed myself deeper into her back.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I was losing any sort of control and Susan knew it. She dipped and rolled and I slid forward up her rising spine then back again. Somehow she deepened the curve of her back and I fiercely pulled back on the reins, drawing her head back and giving me more of an angle to press against. Susan’s gasps drove me wild and they were all I could hear as my vision clouded and my head spun.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">As my breathing finally slowed Susan let the bit drop from her mouth. “Was that worth winning?” She asked.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I leaned forward resting my arms on her shoulders and whispered, “absolutely,” in her ear.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Her head drooped a little and she chuckled, “okay time to get off me, the song’s well and truly finished.”</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I sat up and caught a handful of her dark hair and turned her face towards me. “This ride’s finished when I say it is isn’t that right pony slave?”</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I could see her smile, despite how tired she must have felt. “Yes Master,” she whispered.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">With my left hand in her hair and my right lightly patting her behind as she walked Susan carried me in a victory lap around the lounge. No doubt plotting her revenge the whole way.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">*****</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-70471861790120936052015-02-22T17:31:00.002-08:002015-03-29T10:36:02.364-07:00To a Magazine. by Unferth*****<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The following appeared in the Agony Aunt column of the July edition of the magazine Gurlz’N’Boyz:</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Dear Auntie Audrey,</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I’ve got this thing going with one of the instructors at my local sports club. He’s a dead ripped hunk, and I’d always fancied him a bit, so I was dead excited when he invited me round to his place for some “personal” training. Even though we went downstairs to his personal gym (and not up to the bedroom), I wasted no time in showing him I wasn’t wearing my sports bra, and by the time I’d got his kit off he was VERY pleased to see me!</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">But that’s when it got kinda weird. He smeared me in baby oil, and rode me as if I were his horse, until I was absolutely shattered, then he climaxed all over my back. I didn’t mind much at first. I mean, its a good workout and all that (I can carry him longer now than that first time), and I like feeling his weight on me and his excitement. But I go round just about every week now, and that’s all he wants. I mean, what’s really in it for me?</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Yours puzzled</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Izzi</span><br />
~<br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Dear Izzi,</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">It is important that you both enjoy sex, and it does sound as if your new hunk is not paying much attention to your pleasure. You need to tell him that you’ll not let him have his way with you until you’re satisfied. But good sex does not come naturally – boyz don’t always know how to please their girlz. So I’ve sent you a copy of my leaflet “How Boyz can please Gurlz”. Ideally, you’d sit down together, and talk about the things you’d like him to do. But if you don’t feel up to that, just leave it on his bedside table.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Do keep in touch, dearie, and tell me how you get on</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Luv</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Auntie Audrey.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">*****</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The following appeared in the Agony Aunt Column of the September edition of the Magazine “Gurlz’N’Boyz:</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Dear Auntie Audrey,</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Your advice sorta worked. He still wanted to ride me, but before I got too tired I bucked and twisted, and landed him flat on his back! He looked so stupid lying there, gasping for breath that I straddled him and rode his cock. I still didn’t get my orgasm, but I did get a good laugh at the look of confusion and shock on his face.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I’ve been to his basement gym loads of times since then, but I’ve never let him get off by riding me. I’ve always bucked him off (sometimes three or four times), and made sure I’m riding his boner one way or another for his orgasm and before I get too tired. Once I let him take me “doggie style”, thinking he might use his finger. But he wasn’t interested, so did a bit of bucking and soon put a stop to that!</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">So thanks for your advice!</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Izzi</span><br />
~<br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Dear Izzi</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I’m glad that your fella is paying a bit more attention to you. It sounds as if you’ve been experimenting together with different positions, so to help you on your way, I’ve sent you my leaflet “Girlz’N’Boyz top five positions.” See which ones you fancy, and try them out!</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Luv</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Auntie Audrey</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">*****</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The following appeared in the Agony Aunt column of the November edition of “Gurlz’N’Boyz”</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Dear Auntie Audrey</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">My new fella is really crap at riding me! He’s given up with the baby oil, and he’s even tried making stirrups and bridles from his neckties, or clinging onto my hair. He tries so hard!</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The training’s doing me good, too. I make him try and ride me loads of times – he gets really angry, and that turns me on. And I sometimes let him stay on for ages. A bit of smooching or even pretending to obey and he soon loses concentration! And even after all of that, once I’ve got him on his back I’ve still got loads of energy.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Best Wishes</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Izzi</span><br />
~<br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Dear Izzi</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">It sounds to me as if you’re both experimenting with a bit of light bondage! It can be great fun, if you’re both up for it. The really important thing is to agree a safe word – a way for either of you to say “Stop”, and know that you mean it. I’ve sent you my leaflet “Sex Games for Gurlz’n’Boyz, and hope it gives you lots of ideas. But remember to talk about them first!</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Luv</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Auntie Audrey</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">*****</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The following appeared in the “Gurlz seeking Boyz” column of the December edition of “Gurlz’N’Boyz”</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">“Wild rodeo gurl seeks cowboy to tame her”</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
*****Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-70847240530842331772014-12-20T14:27:00.001-08:002015-03-29T10:36:02.367-07:00Story: "Yasmin's Point Of View" by Paladin<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">**********</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">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. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">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. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">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. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">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. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">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. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">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. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
“<span style="font-size: medium;">Are you ready
Princess?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">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. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">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. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a><span style="font-size: medium;">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. </span>
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<br />
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-32427813409563492762014-12-20T14:10:00.001-08:002015-03-29T10:36:02.339-07:00Story: "First Ride" by M Anonymous.The author said I could edit this. But I didn't, except for two words. If edited, it would not keep the original enthusiasm and energy in his story. The "**" that appears in several words was not mine, either.<br />
<br />
Hope you enjoy M's story, and sorry it took so long to get back here to post it,<br />
<br />
*************<br />
<br />
<div align="LEFT" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">PART 1</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What just
happened????</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was laying on the
floor, naked, staring up at the ceiling, trying to recall what just
happened. I was breathing heavily, from both exertion and arousal,
my inner thigh muscles ached, a sensation strangely coupled with a
feeling of arousal as I felt my h*rd c**k twitch against my
stomach…………..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I heard a noise and
Felt a hot sweaty body sliding over my own, bare breasts rubbing up
my thighs, across my c**k and up my chest, before a familiar smile
appeared obscuring my view of the ceiling.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is that all you got
said Anne…….as she leant forward and softly kissed my lips?!?!?
And then i remembered. i had taken Anne out for a drink down the
local pub/restaurant and afterwards we had sat outside watching a
crowd gathered around a mechanical bucking bronco……..watching as
attempt after attempt was made by the spectators to ride the bull.
Anne stared intently at the crowd</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">An hour later the
crowd had dispersed and the bull packed away, leaving us and a few
others sat outside enjoying the last remnants of daylight. She
looked over at me with mischief in her eyes, I think you should have
had a go on that, see how you got on. I laughed and full of bravado
retorted " ah yeah easy, they were doing it all wrong! Nearly
all of them were falling off before the bull had even moved! I would
do much better!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She smiled
seductively and looked me in the eye, Really??? I bet you couldn't!
In fact I bet you couldn't even stay on my back, let alone the
bull!!! I stared back at her, not quite knowing what to say……her
eyes were alive with mischief, her ample breasts heaving against her
halter neck top….my heart was racing. I opened my mouth to say
something but she leant forward and kissed me softly, running her
hand between my thighs and over my rapidly hardening c*** before
getting up, collecting the glasses and walking over to the bar. Anne
was not a slim girl, if anything she was a couple of pounds
overweight yet she was perfectly proportioned, with very feminine
curves. I watched her walk away, noting the sway of her hips, her
strong upper back and narrow waist……..her every move lithe and
seductive…..and I couldn't help thinking how good it would feel to
slide my thighs over her hips, sit into the small of her back……..and
ride her.
</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is that really what
she had meant? Was my imagination running into overtime? Had I
misunderstood?!??! My hard c**k pressed against my jeans…………..I
wanted to ride her…..hard…..and then make love to her!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We burst through the
front door, kissing hard, ripping each others clothes off , our hands
all over each other………….Anne raced up to the bedroom and I
followed….she had stopped by the bed facing me, that mischievious
twinkle in her eye once again…………..i walked over sliding my
hands onto her hips at which point she took hold of my wrists and
lifted my arms before turning her back to, placing my hands on her
breasts and gently pushing back against me ……then she leant over
with her hands flat on the bed……pushing her bottom against my
thighs and c**k moving up and down, each time nudging my legs further
apart using her bottom to push herself in between my legs……..this
felt so good…..i closed my eyes enjoying the sensation, my hands
now caressing her back and shoulders</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I heard a voice say
You better hold on!!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anne slid herself in
between my thighs and stood up rounding her back and dropping onto
her elbows at the same time my eyes shot open as I felt my balls
crushed against her back and my feet leave the floor, fell forward
and quickly rested my hands flat on her back to stabilise myself, my
legs dangling………….What was going on?!?!?!? I remembered the
conversation at the pub, but all too late as Anne squatted down until
my feet touched the floor and keeping her back rounded and her elbows
flat on the bed, bucked hard, once, twice, the third time I flew off
her back with such force i rolled off the bed and landed on the floor
the other side of the bed………….</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What happened?!?!?!?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I didn't think you
could handle me loser……………….she smiled down at me, a
mixture of arousal and mischief in her eyes……………………..
so, you gonna try again or do you admit defeat?!?!?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Damn right I
retorted! I pushed her off and got up, both aroused and frustrated,
pulling her to her feet I pushed her back over the bed and before she
had a chance to do anything, leapt onto her back and smacked her on
the butt………………this was going to be fun………………..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">TO BE CONTINUED!</span></div>
<br />
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<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-38593308331992751312014-06-06T22:00:00.000-07:002015-03-29T10:36:02.348-07:00Short story"Bend your back, down, relax it."<br />
<br />
She bent her bare back, not like an 'n' but like a 'u'. She looked at him. Her delicate underwear was all she wore, highlighting slender little curves. She looked so delicate and feminine and petite. Oil shone on her lovely curved back.<br />
<br />
"Stay there," he said.<br />
<br />
He stepped up on a part of the gym bench. And swung astride her back. Naked.<br />
She braced to hold him. Her little muscles trembled at the start. She wasn't nearly his size.<br />
Blood rushed away from his head. It concentrated elsewhere. This is what he'd wanted! For so long. And now, he had her. Both willing and forced.<br />
"I'm going to ride you, pony girl," he said softly as he sat there, high astride her. "I will ride you until you can't take any more. I will ride you until your arms shake. I will ride you until your little body collapses under me. Maybe even that won't be the end. I'll put you back on your hands and knees and make you bear my full weight some more."<br />
He was rewarded with a little shiver.<br />
<br />
"Lift your arms up and put your hands on the bar there."<br />
She shuffled forward on the gym bench. His legs hung down on either side of her. His body seemed to be concentrated in the parts of him that pressed against her skin... thighs against sides, backside and groin full weight pressed into her slender bare back. He felt like parts of him were leaping; adrenaline flooded through him.<br />
She put her hands on the bar, which was maybe a foot higher than the rest of the gym bench. It made the curve of her back dip even more and he pressed fully against her back now.<br />
<br />
"Arch up."<br />
She strained, and arched her back up with his full weight astride it,<br />
"Arch down."<br />
She arched it down again.<br />
And he rode her for a little while like that. Softly arching him up and down. He could feel the effort it took her slender little arms and body to do it.<br />
<br />
"Giddy up!"<br />
His crop smacked her backside. She moaned, soft and high. She wasn't sure what he wanted. She began to pulse her body in a gentle rhythm under him.<br />
She could feel him, so heavy astride her back. His thick, strong thighs pressed around her naked sides. His throbbing arousal against her skin. One of his hands in her thick hair, pulling back as if to make the arch in her back even deeper.<br />
She felt her little muscles strain to hold him, to obey him. She felt almost crushed by his size, his weight. It was hard for her to move. His crop had left spreading warmth across her bottom. And yet... And yet it wasn't all bad. The fact that it was <i>she</i> who had caused this big man to feel so crazy with want and desire, that <i>she</i> pleased him, that felt good. The skin on skin felt good also, especially as his was so... heated. It was erotic in its own way. And she felt utterly dominated, overwhelmed. Feelings she could consider later. But oh, she couldn't take it for long!<br />
<br />
He rode the slender little body, feeling her strain and quiver to keep obeying, feeling her back so wonderfully curved under him. He whipped her on, and felt her delicate body move in a rocking rhythm, back and forth, back and forth, weak and delicate yet enough to rock and grind him on her back so very, very lewdly.<br />
Ohh, <i>yeah... </i>He moaned out loud and couldn't help urging her on again. He was rewarded with a soft little gasp from the soft voiced girl underneath him. She had no choice. She would carry him until he exploded all over her back. He would force her on, make her get up if she collapsed... The heat-driven thought-feelings cascaded through his brain.<br />
Back and forth, with a little bit of up and down, went her rhythm. He was slid and thrust against her back in time with the movements. He pressed himself into her back, leaned into her, hands in her hair, and growled encouragement into his petite pony girl's ear. It was going to be far shorter than he'd hoped. But he didn't care.<br />
<br />
She stopped moving, panting, arms aching, her delicate body trembling with the effort of just holding her up. She couldn't keep the movement up. He sat there astride her, perfectly still, with his cock pressed deep into her upper back in that rather lovely position, and felt her tremble. Savouring the moment. Heat was rushing through him. It wouldn't be long.<br />
"That's okay..." he whispered. "stay like that.. but don't collapse..." And he began to move on her, in his own rhythm, riding her bent and oiled back.<br />
<br />
She cried out and used every little bit of her delicate strength to try and hold him up as he rode, grinding into her. Her arms shook. Still he rode her, forcing her to either move with his movements or fall, almost bouncing on her back as the electricity rose through his body.<br />
He drove his hips against her little back as climax overtook him. Groaning.<br />
<br />
And as he sat there, trying to recover from the violent moment, her strength gave out completely. Her limbs buckled and she collapsed on the gym bench.<br />
<br />
He laughed. "Poor pony," he said, and kissed her on her sweaty head. "I rode you too hard."<br />
<br />
THE ENDUnknownnoreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-57496090200953430812014-06-06T16:03:00.001-07:002015-03-29T10:36:02.355-07:00Saraya's Bet Final<i>NOTE: Part 5 has been edited and should be read again before reading this part!</i><br />
<br />
<br />
Tired, angry and humiliated, Saraya had no choice but to do her best. She couldn't bear the thought of losing.<br />
<br />
With Miguel astride her back, and the crowd around her... grr... she began the 'pony dance', the shuffling little jog that was like the horses' piaffe, the 'up' foot not really leaving the ground.<br />
She refused even the thought of copying Yasmin's raunchy, but much easier moves. She would not stoop that low. She forced her body into doing the little shuffle trot, trying to do it at least a little gracefully. Miguel felt the little moves through her body and into his.<br />
<br />
Step, step, step... The world around her got tuned out into a blur as she did her very best. All that existed was the weight of her rider, and the effort of continuing the pony dance step even though her muscles were protesting like mad. Pride kept her going. She would not lose. She would <i>not!</i><br />
<br />
She barely even noticed that Yasmin was now higher up, getting a piggy back ride from a laughing young man who was pretending to do the same as Saraya, in a comical fashion, getting lots of laughter from around them.<br />
<br />
Miguel helped, or rather he used the quirt when he felt her start to slow and falter; but Saraya almost didn't care, the extra clarity and energy let her keep it up, at least for a little longer...<br />
<br />
...And then, to her horror, her legs refused. Totally, utterly refused. Saraya swayed and Miguel slid off her back as her legs folded despite her best efforts.<br />
<br />
As she knelt sprawled, collapsed on the ground, panting for breath, she heard laughter and cat calls about how he'd finally 'broken' his pony, ridden to exhaustion, and similar things. A voice asked if she was okay, she nodded, but couldn't speak.<br />
Had she done enough?? Had she outlasted Yasmin? She had a sinking feeling...<br />
<br />
She heard Yasmin's voice over the others, light, challenging and mocking. "So which pony was the best? Me, or <i>her?</i>"<br />
"You were!" "Yasmin!" The calls were almost unanimous.<br />
"Woo hooo!" Yasmin punched her hand in the air in a show of victory.<br />
Saraya's heart sank! She raised her head, pulling the bit partly out of her mouth so she could talk. "No way!" she spat. "She just did a ho dance! I did it properly!"<br />
"A bet's a bet," said Miguel, and there was laughter in his voice. "The crowd has spoken!"<br />
"Now she gets to ride you," taunted someone.<br />
"No way...!"<br />
<br />
The girl was helped up and moved by the press of the little crowd, mostly of young men, plus one of Yasmin's friends, over to the fence by the side of the road, with much laughter and taunting.<br />
Someone gave her a drink of water through the bridle, "you'll need it!" they taunted, and then she was pressed to the fence and made to bend at the waist to be mounted.<br />
Yasmin came up in front of her face. Mockingly she patted Saraya's sweaty 'mane', making the other girl glare mutely at her.<br />
"You'd better be a good pony for me," she said."None of that nonsense you gave poor Miugel!"<br />
There was more laughter from around them. Tired though she was Saraya swore through the bit at Yasmin.<br />
<br />
Now Yasmin mounted her, boosted up by one of the other men. She felt the weight of the other girl come down astride her back, an unwanted, hated rider. She felt slim legs grip her sides, weight adjusting itself against the cantle of her mock half saddle. This wasn't FAIR! she thought. And it was damned odd. Red embarrassment flushed her cheeks.<br />
<br />
Yasmin collected the reins and pulled them backward, not at all gently... similar to how Saraya had pulled HER head back during their brief wrestle! Saraya's head was forced up and back with a little gasp. Yasmin's legs locked around Saraya's waist, not needing to be held.<br />
"Giddy up, Horsey!" She kicked her 'pony' on, heels against upper thighs, almost mockingly.<br />
<br />
Despite Saraya's tiredness, the pure humiliation of it stung her enough that anger won. She braced her hands on the rail and tried to buck Yasmin off, violently bucking and lurching under the other girl, trying to toss her off.<br />
The hated girl buried her hands in mane and reins and hung on, laughing, her legs locked around Saraya's waist, moving with the other girl's movements. She rode Saraya's wild movements till the girl's tiredness began to win once more, then pulled hair and reins back hard. Saraya's body arched beneath her.<br />
<br />
"Take the quirt" suggested Miguel. And of course, Yasmin did. No way was she going to let Saraya off lightly after being wrestled down in public.<br />
"Giddy up!" she repeated, and this time brought the quirt down stingingly on the other girl's backside. Saraya gasped at the burning line across her rump... and finally, removed her hands from the fence rail and began to step away from it. Yasmin smacked her with the quirt again as Saraya carried her slowly away from the fence. Back toward the parade. Where the much lighter weight of Yasmin meant that she was able to make her pony dance till she dropped.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>Saraya did not stay in the town after that. She left, and found a job in the big city, and made a good life for herself. And it is said that she did not speak so rashly when angry as she once had. She had finally learned to think before she acted.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>Her family's debt, however, vanished after that night....</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-91128213171049745412014-01-21T03:39:00.003-08:002015-03-29T10:36:02.377-07:00Saraya's Bet Part 5 (second last part)Saraya watched as Yasmin now tried to do what she herself had done.<br />
"You look so silly," she giggled, but no one heard her over the noise and music. It didn't matter.<br />
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!<br />
<br />
"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.<br />
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.<br />
"Ha! Another dancing pony!" and similar cat calls came from the onlookers.<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
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!<br />
<br />
Miguel led the still bridled Yasmin over to her and escorted them to a fence. Yasmin pretended to whinny and prance beside her 'rider'.<br />
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!<br />
<br />
"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.<br />
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!!<br />
<br />
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?<br />
"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 <i>must</i> defeat Yasmin!<br />
"Such a sweet, cute little pony she is," she laughed, and smiled at Miguel.<br />
"Yes, she is," he agreed as he did the 'girth' up tightly. "Let's ride!"<br />
<br />
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!<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-6296953934479577602014-01-09T11:15:00.000-08:002015-03-29T10:36:02.359-07:00Jason's Wheels - Part 1This 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...<br />
<br />
But I digress! On with the action.<br />
<br />
**********<br />
<br />
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.<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
He followed her towards the barn. As they both neared the barn door, she turned and saw him.<br />
"Oh, hey," she said in an Irish accent. "You'll be one of the ponyboys then."<br />
"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?"<br />
"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."<br />
"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.<br />
"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.<br />
"You <em>are</em> strong," Jason said admiringly, then kicked himself for stating the obvious.<br />
<br />
But she seemed pleased by his compliment. "Thanks," she said with a wide smile. "So anyway... what are you here for?"<br />
"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."<br />
"Ahh," said Vanessa. "I know what you mean, in fact I helped to make it. Can I show you?"<br />
"Sure," Jason said and followed her to the cart section of the barn.<br />
"What's your name, by the way?" she asked.<br />
"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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
"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."<br />
Jason realised what it was for. "I'm to push it while my Mistress rides me?"<br />
"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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
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. <br />
"Have, um. Have you ever tested it yourself?"<br />
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."<br />
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??<br />
<br />
"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.<br />
"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?"<br />
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.<br />
"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."<br />
Vanessa laughed. "Sure!" she said. "But that's all, mind. No hard stuff."<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
"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.<br />
<br />
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".<br />
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.<br />
"Are you OK down there?" he asked.<br />
"Yes, I'm fine," she said, a little breathlessly. "You are heavy, but not too bad..."<br />
"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.<br />
<br />
*************Unknownnoreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-33521098760416565622014-01-09T10:42:00.000-08:002015-03-29T10:36:02.342-07:00Saraya's Bet Part 4Saraya 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.<br />
<br />
"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.<br />
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.<br />
"OK, straighten up a bit," he allowed. The girl straightened her torso to half-bent with a gasp of relief.<br />
<br />
Then a giggle came from nearby.<br />
"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!"<br />
<br />
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.<br />
She came at Yasmin who just looked on in shock, and tackled the other girl to the ground!<br />
<br />
"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.<br />
"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!<br />
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.<br />
A wild idea came to her. She smiled suddenly.<br />
"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.<br />
<br />
"No way, get off me, you stupid bitch!" spat Yasmin, wriggling, but everyone watching laughed, Miguel too.<br />
"You did tease her a lot," he chuckled as he eyed the struggling party girl. "I think it's only fair..."<br />
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!<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
"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 <i>you!</i>"<br />
Saraya weighed the risk, then her eyes gleamed.<br />
"Of course I'll take that," she flared proudly, "Yasmin's a weak little party girl!"<br />
Yasmin glared.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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!<br />
Saraya laughed. The man had barely even touched her rival with the aids and already she was jumping like a spooked horse!<br />
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!<br />
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.<br />
<br />
To be continued.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-42725166772064363642014-01-09T10:32:00.000-08:002015-03-29T10:36:02.350-07:00Saraya's Bet Part 3***********<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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!!<br />
<br />
"Git on her back!" someone yelled and others laughed and shouted their agreement. Miguel gave an exaggerated bow and turned to Saraya.<br />
"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.<br />
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!<br />
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!"<br />
<br />
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.<br />
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.<br />
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.<br />
"Good, my horsey, gooood," he crooned mockingly. <i>She</i> 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.<br />
Slowly she moved forward in an awkward, unsteady walk.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
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.<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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!!!"<br />
Soon Miguel and Saraya were the center of attention.<br />
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.<br />
"Hey Miguel!" "Cute horse!" "See if you can make HER dance!" and similar calls came from the people around them.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
"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.<br />
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.<br />
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"!<br />
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.<br />
"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.<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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!"<br />
<br />
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 <i>couldn't</i> stop, he wouldn't let her! Her feet picked up the pace again, her tired back still bent under her rider.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
Finally the girl stumbled a little and he reined her to a halt.<br />
"Okay, okay, easy pony," he said with a laugh. "You can rest."<br />
<br />
To be continued!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-86571976843538726652014-01-09T10:12:00.000-08:002015-03-29T10:36:02.370-07:00Saraya's Bet - Chapter 2<br />
***************<br />
Saraya's Bet Part 2<br />
***************<br />
<br />
Saraya was not a happy girl. She had not been allowed to back out of her lost bet.<br />
<br />
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!<br />
<br />
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 can<b>not</b> hold me to this!!"<br />
Miguel had just looked at her and grinned. "You seem plenty strong enough to me, darlin', and we had a bet..."<br />
<br />
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.<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
"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."<br />
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."<br />
<br />
"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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
**************Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-38484260721915899732014-01-09T10:03:00.000-08:002015-03-29T10:36:02.345-07:00Saraya's Bet - Chapter 1On 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.<br />
Here it is, re-published.<br />
<br />
**************<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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!)<br />
<br />
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.<br />
"He should throw your butt back where it belongs" jeered one older teenager. This caused much laughter around the ring.<br />
"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!"<br />
"Saraya!" hissed another girl, trying to shush her.<br />
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.<br />
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!"<br />
"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.<br />
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?"<br />
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.<br />
"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.<br />
"If you could win free of the debt by seeing me get thrown in the dirt as you apparently wish, my lovely, would you?"<br />
"And just how would that be possible?" Saraya said with a sneer.<br />
"Honey, you get to throw me in this dirt yourself, right here and now!"<br />
<br />
All of the males who were watching laughed.<br />
Saraya did not. "Is that another joke? Or do you mean it? I throw you, you wipe out the debt? As simple as that?"<br />
"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."<br />
"Saraya, don't!" hissed the other girl next to her.<br />
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.<br />
"Then I accept! I shall enjoy making a fool of you!"<br />
Miguel's black eyes flashed with amusement and fire and he held out his hand. Solemnly the dark-haired girl shook it.<br />
<br />
"What about if she loses, Uncle Miguel?" laughed a sixteen year old boy from elsewhere on the fence.<br />
"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!"<br />
"As if I would ever accept such an outdated, abusive proposal!" Saraya snapped in response.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
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.<br />
"It will be fun to see you in the dirt," she spat and slithered down into an all fours position, waiting.<br />
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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.<br />
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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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"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 <i><b>you </b></i>instead of my big Friesian in the parade, an' you still owe me..."<br />
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!!<br />
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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!<br />
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Whoops and catcalls sounded from the onlookers as the girl started bucking and lurching under him, trying to throw him off her back!<br />
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.<br />
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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??<br />
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.<br />
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.<br />
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.<br />
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.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-89731911367395459182013-12-11T23:40:00.002-08:002015-03-29T10:36:02.374-07:00A Chance Encounter Revisited Chp 2 by Paladin<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, Lucida Grande, sans-serif;">******</span><br />
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She began moving a little more quickly than before, a kind of jolting bouncy movement. I made no effort to stop myself from bouncing up and then landing solidly on her back. I loved the feeling of my butt dropping into the curve and feeling her struggle to steady herself and to keep moving. Without warning her gait changed, from a bouncy, scrabbling she began to move more smoothly. Her canter was a slow rolling motion that gave me a pleasurable little slide up then down her spine.</div>
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I wrapped my legs around her waist to feel her stomach muscles push against me and let her carry on until she slowed naturally. My ponygirl came to a halt, her head dropped, her arms trembled and her breathing was fast. I put my feet on the ground and began bouncing softly in the centre of her back. She gasped and struggled to stay upright. Laughing I lifted my feet back up off the ground and then draped my legs over her shoulders. I leant back and rested my hands on her backside.</div>
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“Now try rocking slowly backwards and forwards,” I instructed.</div>
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I felt her shift her hands forward, stretching a little under me. She rocked very slowly forward, dipping down a little as she did so. Then back onto her haunches so that if my hands hadn’t been firmly pressed to her backside I might have tipped off. I let her do this a few times then told her to stop. “Can you see my legs?”</div>
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I felt her head turn to look, “Yes,” she replied. I could hear the effects of the recent physical exertion in her voice and felt a thrill pass through me. This was the point where riding a girl became more than just a physical pleasure. “Kiss each calf,” I ordered. She paused but then I felt her lips press against my skin. Her head turned and she repeated the kiss on the other leg. I slung my legs back over and was once more sitting astride her. I gathered up her long hair and turned her head back towards the water. I tapped her thighs firmly with my heels and she set off. I deliberately rode her into the shallows, not stopping as the water swirled around her hands and knees. I reined her in just as the water lapped against her elbows and thighs.</div>
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I leant forward, “how does that feel?”</div>
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“Fricken cold,” she laughed.</div>
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“Stay still,” I instructed her.</div>
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“Why?” she started to ask and then squealed as a larger wave swept forward, sweeping across her chest, stomach and upper thighs. She reacted by struggling under me, bucking and twisting. <span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386833186974_12308">I rode her, controlling her head and curbing her movements until she was again still. “Back up onto the beach!” She obeyed instantly, carrying me smoothly as if she’d never thought of resisting. Once up onto the smooth white sand I reined her to a halt. She was tired now. I could feel it in her movements and in the deeper curve of her back while she waited for my next command. I allowed my full weight to sit deep into her back then pulled her head sharply up. I could see a trickle of sea-water run down her throat to join the drops outlining her full curves.</span></div>
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“Now pony you’re going to close your eyes and we’ll see how much you’ve learnt.” I waited until her eyes closed and then released her head. I lightly touched my heels to her thighs and she moved forward. Light touches to her hair had her moving in a long figure eight. I shifted my weight backwards and she came to a halt.</div>
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“Arch your back, now dip as deeply as you can. Do it again but this time as slowly as possible.” She obeyed as best she could pushing my whole weight up and then gradually back down. At the lowest point I made her stop. I moved up onto her hips and let myself slide down her back. She collapsed to the sand with an “oof.”</div>
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“Up!” I ordered and repeated the whole process. She collapsed again. This time I turned her over and straddled her stomach. “Bucking now!” She bounced me up and down on her stomach until her butt it the sand and stayed there. I moved up until I was sitting just below her chest. She breathed deeply and I enjoyed the view. “Now we’ll try again.” I got up and watched as she rolled over and got onto all fours. I straddled her back and she slowly pushed me up then dropped down. I moved to her hips and slid heavily down. Her arms shook valiantly but again collapsed.</div>
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Without a word from me she turned over. I stepped over her then positioned her arms to best suit me before lowering myself onto her chest, my shins pinning her arms down. Before I could order her she began to slowly buck, her soft curves pushing up against my backside, her wet bikini top soaking through my shorts. She stopped but I could still feel the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed deeply.</div>
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I slid forward until my thighs framed her face. “Do you know what you have to do now?”</div>
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She looked up at me with bright green eyes, then smiled and nodded. I wasn’t sure if the motion was deliberate but as her chin moved up and down me I was fairly certain it was. She turned her head as kissed my inner thigh then turned her head and kissed the other. </div>
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“Do you think I’ve ridden you properly now?” I asked.</div>
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She frowned, “Yes.”</div>
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“Why?”</div>
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“Umm because you’ve ridden me until I collapsed and then you sat on me and I had to kiss your thighs.”</div>
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“That’s a very good answer,” she smiled at that. “But it’s not the right answer.” I got up and watched as she sat up.</div>
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“Why isn’t it the right answer?”</div>
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“I’ll show you,” I replied. I snapped my fingers and pointed. She sighed and moved onto her hands and knees. Taking a chance I placed my right foot on her back between her shoulder blades and slowly pushed downwards. She resisted at first but then allowed herself to be forced down until her lips touched my other foot. She kissed it hesitantly but when she tried to rise I held her there.</div>
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“What do I do?” she asked.</div>
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“Obey me,” I told her. I waited and then felt her lips again. After a moment I felt her tongue touch the top of my foot. “That’s fantastic,” I whispered. Encouraged she became more adventurous licking the length of my foot then kissing and flicking her tongue against my skin.</div>
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I lifted my right foot off her back but her head stayed down and quickly transferred her lips and tongue. I caught her hair and lifted her head to look at me. “What do you want?” I demanded.</div>
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She looked up at me and smiled, “I want to obey you,” she said. I felt fire rush along my nerves.</div>
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“Why do you want to obey me?” I asked my voice growing hoarse with excitement.</div>
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“Because I want you to ride me. I want to be your pony girl.”</div>
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“What do you want me to be?”</div>
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She rocked forward until she was again on all fours. Her back curved enticingly, inviting me to mount but I waited. She looked up and smiled at me. “I want you to be my rider. I want your weight on my back, your hands in my hair and your heels against my thighs. I want you to sit on me when I fail.” Her smile grew more wicked, “and I want to feel how excited you are when I’m kissing and licking your body.”</div>
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I mounted her quickly, dropping my weight down onto the delicious curve of her magnificent back. She dipped under my weight and then bounced me playfully up and down. I caught her hair in my hand and pulled her head back. I ran my fingers lightly down her jaw, tracing her throat and then across her breasts. She trembled under me. “Now my bikini ponygirl, now I’m going to ride you!”</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-4994945470223071972013-12-03T23:56:00.002-08:002015-03-29T10:37:19.664-07:00A Chance Encounter Revisited, by Paladin (Chp 1)<div class="yiv8981517636MsoNormal" id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386142779584_4807" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', 'Segoe UI', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; padding: 0px;">
A Chance Encounter Revisited Chp 1</div>
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“Are you here to surf or just to perv?”</div>
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I pushed myself up onto one elbow and shaded my eyes to better see the young woman standing about a metre away. She was athletically built with sea-drenched, blond hair sending interesting drops of water running down her shoulders to slip across sun bronzed curves. Her sky blue bikini accentuated her soft curves and tantalising muscle tone.</div>
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Aware of my scrutiny she reacted by placing her hands on her hips in a challenging way rather than getting embarrassed. I smiled, “I’m here to have some time out, read and relax. Perving at surfer girls is just a bonus.”</div>
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She grinned at that and pushed a loose strand of hair off her face. “It’s a bit early for you family types to be turning up to this beach. We normally get this section to ourselves for a good month or so.”</div>
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“Family types eh? Shouldn’t you be in a classroom somewhere?”</div>
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“Uni’s been out for a couple of weeks now,” she replied.</div>
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“Well that’s what happens when us old, family types forget our glasses.” I laughed and she relaxed a bit more. Mentally I compared her to the young red-head I ridden a couple of months earlier in a hotel. The surfer girl was a bit taller, not as toned but with more curves. Her hair streamed down her back and the thought of it gripped tightly in my hand made me smile.</div>
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“What are you thinking about?” She asked with the kind of grin that let me know what she was assuming.</div>
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“Something very different from what you would be guessing.” I told her. “Nothing dangerous,” I added with a laugh. </div>
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“Coke,” I offered her a can from my chilly bin. She looked it over carefully then sat down.</div>
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“Doesn’t look like it’s been tampered with so I doubt I’ll wake up in the boot of your station wagon.”</div>
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I roared with laughter. “It’s a sports car so no boot and it’s a convertible so I couldn’t even tie you to the roof. Sorry but it looks like calories are about the worst that I can do.”</div>
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She smiled and took a long drink while I looked along the empty beach. “You don’t surf alone do you?”</div>
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She rolled her eyes, “I’m a big girl now dad and I’ve been surfing this beach since I was 10.” She looked at me a bit more intently, “so if you’re not planning on drugging me and selling me off into slavery what are you planning to do?”</div>
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I shrugged, “clearly I didn’t plan well enough ahead when it comes to the whole abduction/slavery thing but I did bring a book and I did leave my phone behind.”</div>
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“Boring,” she decided. “You must be able to have more fun than that?”</div>
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I sat up further and made eye contact, “I can have a lot more fun than that but…,” I let the silence gather, knowing she would fill it.</div>
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“But what?” she raised a cheeky eyebrow.</div>
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“But my idea of fun requires a very specific type of personality.”</div>
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“I don’t get it,” she took another drink.</div>
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“Well most people would say they look for someone attractive, like yourself,” she smiled at that. “But I look for inner strength. For someone who seeks a challenge, and who wants to push their understanding of themselves. A person with a spark of difference.”</div>
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She bit her lip and looked a little nervous. “I’m not sure if that’s me,” she said.</div>
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I shrugged, “maybe, maybe not. Clearly though your very independent and willing to take challenges. I met a girl about your age a couple of months ago she kind of stumbled into the situation but it fired up her competitive nature.” I smiled at the memory. “In the end she loved the experience and I doubt she’s forgotten it.”</div>
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She rocked forward onto her knees, moving closer to me. I tried very hard not to let my gaze wander down to her bikini top. “Tell me what it is.”</div>
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“Ponyplay.”</div>
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She frowned, obviously not sure what I meant.</div>
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“I enjoy riding women like they’re ponies.”</div>
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“You mean like on all fours?”</div>
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“Yes the girl is on all fours and I sit on their back and ride them.”</div>
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“Weird.” She glanced over her shoulder as if imagining me sitting on her back. “Why do you like that?”</div>
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“I love the feel of a woman’s back under me. The way their backs curve down from the hips then up under me rising to their shoulders. The movement of muscles against me as they walk or canter. I love the sounds my ponies make as they first take the strain of my weight settling on them and the gasps as I urge them on when they start to tire. Then there’s the trembling in their limbs as they reach the edges of their stamina but have to continue. For some riders that’s more than enough. Most of all though I love the battle for submission.”</div>
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I sat back and drank some of my coke to give her time to absorb what I’d said. Time to make her excuses and leave if she now wanted to. She stayed so I continued.</div>
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“When I first ride a pony girl she tries to carry me not realising that that’s not a true pony ride. After a while she begins to feel my commands, my heels on her thighs, my hand on her backside and my grip on her hair and she starts to follow them but inwardly she still feels that she is in control. Then I begin to truly ride her.”</div>
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The surfer girl was watching me intently now, her can of coke forgotten.</div>
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“Once my pony girl is pushed beyond the point where she would normally stop, when she is physically challenged to the edge of her stamina that’s when she begins to realise that I am riding her and she is no longer ‘carrying’ me. Then every shift of my body, every change of position or a simple word becomes all she thinks about.”</div>
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“So then she’s submitted to you,” she said.</div>
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“Nearly,” I replied. “True submission comes when she struggles for every step and her backs bows deeply under me but she craves every command I give her. Some have begged me to ride them even as their arms are collapsing.”</div>
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“What about the girl a couple of months ago?”</div>
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“She was physically very strong and fought longer than most can and she was also very strong willed. To show that she’d truly submitted to me she had to beg me to let her submit before I allowed it.” I savoured the memory of my red haired pony girl glistening with perspiration as she collapsed to the roof-top mats. She’d rolled onto her back so that I could straddle her heaving chest and she had punctuated each of her pleas for mercy with a soft kiss or touch of her tongue to my inner thighs.</div>
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“I’m not even sure if I could hold you’re weight,” she said a little hesitantly.</div>
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“Would you like to try? If it’s too hard you only have to say so and we’ll stop.”</div>
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“How do we start?” she asked.</div>
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“Alright lets find a nice smooth patch of sand.” I led her to a space free of any sticks or shells. “Now kneel down then move onto all fours.”</div>
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She dropped to her knees and then rocked forward onto all fours. I waited while she settled her hands. “Should I hold my back really tight and arched?” She asked.</div>
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“No that’s not necessary, just keep your back in it’s normal position and as I lower my weight here,” I put my hand on the lovely curve of her back, “just tighten your muscles until you feel comfortable holding me up.”</div>
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I admired the lovely shape she made before stepping over her. I placed one hand between her shoulder blades and felt her shiver with anticipation. I lowered myself slowly, until I was just resting on her back. “I’m gong to keep lowering my weight now, okay?” She nodded and I sat down, more and more until I lifted my feet off the ground and all my weight was resting in the lovely natural saddle of her back.</div>
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“How does that feel?” I asked.</div>
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“Nowhere near as hard as I thought. Did I make a sound when you first sat on me?”</div>
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I smiled, she was already challenging herself, measuring her performance against my earlier description. “I’ll tell you later,” I answered. “Do you think you can move?”</div>
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She responded by taking a few small steps forward then stopped. “How was that?’</div>
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“Pretty impressive actually. If you’re feeling brave lets try something a little harder?”</div>
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“Okay. Are you actually enjoying this?’</div>
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“Shhh,” I gathered her long hair up into my right hand then gave her thighs a light tap with my heels. She moved forward slowly then as I tugged gently on her hair she turned right, then back to the left. Before I could pull back on her hair she stopped. “Alright?” I asked.</div>
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“Sorry I thought you wanted me to stop.”</div>
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“That’s okay. Lets try something else. How high can you arch your back?”</div>
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She pushed me up high and then dropped back down. I laughed loving the feel of the curve of her back as I slid back down into it. Instinctively she did it again, “I’m bucking like a horse,” she said with a laugh. <span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386142779584_4858" style="font-size: 12pt;">As she dipped I pulled her head back more firmly. Her back curved ever more under me and she let out a delightful gasp. I let my blond rein slip through my fingers and tapped her thighs. She moved at an even pace allowing me to thoroughly enjoy the feel of her body under mine.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
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I gently guided her so that we moved steadily towards the shore. As the sand grew firmer I gave her backside a little smack. My surfer ponygirl squealed but moved faster. I reined her in as the first wave lapped against her hands.</div>
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“Buck,” I instructed her. She hesitated then bounced me vigorously up and down. When she stopped I could feel her ribs expanding against my calves as she breathed deeply.</div>
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“This gets tiring pretty quickly doesn’t it?” She asked me.</div>
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I stayed sitting comfortably on her back.</div>
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“Am I still carrying you or are you riding me now?” She asked when I didn’t respond.</div>
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“You’ve done amazingly well to carry me so far and I think you’d make an incredible ponygirl. You’re strong, powerful and spirited.”</div>
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“And I look great in a bikini,” she added.</div>
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“You do look great in a bikini,” I agreed. “But, no I’m not riding you yet. Do you want me to?”</div>
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She paused thinking about it.</div>
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Curious I gathered up her hair again and drummed my heels against her thighs. She moved quickly, splashing through the shallows. “Well I guess that answers that question,” I commented.</div>
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She splashed through the shallows without answering. It was a beautiful day on a magnificent beach and under me was an untried ponygirl. I guided her back up onto the firmer sand. “Alright ponygirl we’re going to try a canter and then I’m going to ride you properly. Giddy-up!”</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-38162264286525265152013-04-30T19:51:00.000-07:002015-03-29T10:37:19.550-07:00Hay-Barn Ponygirl - Story by Paladin<br />
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Hay-Barn Ponygirl</div>
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Sasha tumbled, shrieking with laughter, down on to the thick bedding of hay. She drew her legs up in a simple attempt to save herself. I pinned her wrists and then grinning at her helplessness I swung my leg over her knees and slid onto her body. I could feel her thighs against my back as I pushed back and sat up astride her stomach. Sasha poked her tongue out at me and gave a light buck. I moved a little further up her stomach so my knees could pin her arms down.</div>
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Once I had her pinned I sat fully up and placed my hands on my hips. “One,” I started counting. Sasha bounced me lightly up and down while trying unsuccessfully to free her arms. By the time I’d counted to seven I could feel her stomach muscles shifting under me as her legs rocked helplessly from side to side. “Ten!”</div>
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I released her arms and smiled as she pouted. </div>
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This had all started after a summer shower had sent us sprinting into the hay barn. Sasha had grumpily shaken drops of water out of her hair. “Look at me I’m nearly soaked,” she’d growled. She noticed that most of my attention had been caught by the sheen of water across the top of her cleavage. She’d undone a button on her little red checkered shirt. “See something you like,” she’d teased.</div>
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I’d reached for her but she’d slipped free with a giggle. “If you want to get me out of this wet top you’re going to have to wrestle me out of it,” she’d challenged.</div>
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After a short chase through the barn we’d ended with me sitting very comfortably on her stomach enjoying the rise and fall of her chest brought on by the wrestling match. </div>
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“Now that I’m pinned what are you going to do?” she asked with a naughty glint in her eyes.</div>
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I slowly began unbuttoning the rest of her shirt. I quickly realised that she had a cute baby-doll t-shirt on underneath.</div>
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“Guess you’re going to have to try and pin me again aren’t you?” she laughed.</div>
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I shook my head and stood up. Sasha slipped out of her shirt and quickly stood up with a squeal of laughter she threw a handful of hay at me and raced away. </div>
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I chased her until I had her cornered on some hay bales. Susan tried to tackle me and we rolled down a slippery mound of hay until we came to a stop with me half lying on top of her. I took one of her top’s spaghetti thin straps and slipped it off her shoulder.</div>
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“Hey!” She protested, “you haven’t pinned me yet.”</div>
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I laughed and straddled her. I sat myself comfortably in the middle of her stomach and just to rub it in I rested my hands on my thighs. “One,” she bucked forcefully under me.</div>
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“Two,” and Sasha bucked again.</div>
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“Three,” and this time she just lay quietly under me. “Not good enough,” I told her. “Three,” I said again and Sasha bucked lifting me up high. She continued to buck as I counted.</div>
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I grinned enjoying the feeling of her stomach muscles pushing against my backside, lifting me up in the air. On Ten she continued to hold me up. I remained as still as I could and slowly counted at twenty she dropped back to the ground with a puff of exhaled air. </div>
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“Enjoy that?” Sasha asked with a big grin.</div>
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“Almost as much as I’ll enjoy that top of yours coming off.”</div>
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She laughed, “and what will you do then?”</div>
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I leant back against her thighs as if considering.</div>
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“I suppose I could give you a little pony ride,” Sasha suggested. “Just a short one though.”</div>
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I laughed and slid back until I was sitting right against her thighs then I placed my hands on her waist, “put your hands above your head.” She did and I slowly slid my hands forward, rolling her top up. As my hands slid up over her chest she giggled and wriggled. </div>
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I leant forward and pinned her arms again then kissed down from her lips along her throat and down across her chest until her breathing sped up.</div>
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“Do you want your pony ride now?” Sasha suggested.</div>
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I stood up and Sasha got to her knees. “I think you should get out of those damp clothes,” she said and then followed that up by helping me out of them.</div>
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The feel of her warm skin against mine as I sat carefully into the gentle curve of her back was incredibly exciting. I caught up her hair and smacked her butt. Sasha yelped but moved forward. I tried to turn her using her hair but she shook her head. “Just let me carry you,” she said.</div>
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She shuffled in a slow circle in the hay. The movement of her hips translating to a gentle motion through her back. I tried to direct her again but she stubbornly continued on her own course.</div>
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“Hold on a moment,” I said and jumped off. I was back before she could get up and quickly mounted her back. This time I settled my weight without waiting for her and I felt Sasha’s back curve under me before she straightened up.</div>
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“Right little pony it’s obviously time to break you in and show you whose the Master here.”</div>
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“I’m only giving you a short ride,” Sasha protested.</div>
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I flicked the riding crop I’d grabbed against the seat of her jean shorts. She yelped and moved but I was ready for it and curbed the movement by drawing her head back.</div>
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I ignored her protest, “now pony you’re going to carry me where I want to go and you’ll do it as fast or slow as I want. Now giddy up!” I smacked her a little harder with the crop and she obeyed straight away.</div>
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I rode her in a straight line then drew her head to the left. Another smack of the crop ended her resistance and when I turned her again she did exactly as she was told. </div>
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I pulled her head back and Sasha stopped. “When you’re ready to submit to me that’s when the ride stops pony.” I told her, “now lower your back, lower!” The crop cracked and I sank deep into her back. “Now up as high as you can go.” She arched like a cat.</div>
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“Lets try rearing.” This took a few tries to get right but eventually I was able to get her to walk then rear up. I reined her in again.</div>
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“What now?” Sasha groaned. “This was just supposed to be a short ride.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Well you know how to shorten it,” I told her.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1367374851684_3921" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px;">
“Okay I submit you’re the best.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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I didn’t get off, “Say I’m the best wrestler”</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Yes you’re the best wrestler,” she answered.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“And you’re my slave.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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“What, no way.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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I swiped her butt with the crop.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“I’m your slave,” she wailed, “now can you please get off?”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px;">
“Now can you please get off what?”</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Now can you please get off Master.” She quickly replied.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I dismounted but told her to stay where she was. I knelt down in front of Sasha and she looked up at me while still on all fours. I ran my hands down her shoulders, down the middle of her back and then back up along her sides. </div>
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<br /></div>
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“I gave you a good ride Master,” she said.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Yes you did in the end but you lost the wrestling match and then tried to take control and slaves shouldn’t have control should they?”</div>
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<br /></div>
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“No Master,” Sasha whispered.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Time to show me how well you can submit,” I told her. “You can start by licking and kissing.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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Sasha’s tongue slid gently up and down, first on one side then the other. Her hair tickled my skin as her head turned. She began to kiss and lick in combination and her soft murmurs of enjoyment sent a bolt of adrenaline through my body.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Looking down on Sasha while she was on all fours made me want to dominate her as I had while riding her. I picked up the crop and rested it on her butt, she paused but when nothing happened she went back to licking and kissing. I slowly trailed the crop up her spine, loving the way she tensed as I did it. </div>
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<br /></div>
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I rolled the crop around her ribs, over her stomach and then traced it across a breast. As the crop came up her shoulder she paused again. I placed the crop on the top of Sasha’s head, “time to submit some more,” I whispered and slowly pushed her head down.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Sasha’s lips and mouth closed around me and I felt her tongue move like a wave against me. </div>
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<br /></div>
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I pressed down a little more with the crop, “deeper, slave,” I commanded. Sasha’s head rose up then back down but I still wasn’t done dominating her. I slapped the crop down on her backside, “giddyup pony.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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I heard a muffled squeak but her head moved more quickly and my breathing responded. I tugged on her hair, “whoa girl, slow now.” </div>
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<br /></div>
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Sasha obeyed. I couldn’t believe it! Not only had I made her obey me while riding her on all fours but now I had control over her as she submitted to me on all fours. I plied the crop twice and she sped up faster than before, one tug of the hair and she slowed, placing the crop on her head made her head dip deeper her lips sliding further down. </div>
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<br /></div>
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I placed my free hand on the middle of her back so that she was taking some of my weight. The excitement was growing too much to control. I snapped the crop on her backside and felt the pressure of Sasha’s mouth increase. Another smack and she moved from a trot to a canter. </div>
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<br /></div>
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“Faster now pony,” I whispered. I don’t know if she heard me but when I dropped the crop once more Sasha moved from a canter to a full gallop.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1367374851684_3935" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px;">
The world seemed to go white. The physical pleasure mixed with the exquisite pleasure of dominating Sasha combined.</div>
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<br /></div>
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When I could finally think again I put my hand on her head holding her in place until I was ready for my slave to stop. My breathing slowed and I allowed her head to rise again. I stood up and sat easily on her back. Sasha didn’t even protest, she merely waited on all fours ready to obey me. </div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1367374851684_3938" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-size: 18px; min-height: 21px; padding: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1367374851684_3939" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px;">
Now that pony,” I told her, “was a great short ride.”</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-11698813712194683032013-04-30T19:41:00.000-07:002015-03-29T10:37:19.543-07:00In tangents to her orbit - Story by Unferth<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<u>… <b>in tangents to her orbit…</b></u></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
They said this sort of morning
happened about five hundred years: the full moon setting in a blue-
green western sky just as the sun painted the east orange. It was as
if the world, suspended in space between the two of them, stood
poised at a fulcrum at the start of spring. The croaking call of a
distant ptarmigan, mingled with the continuous chatter of the stream
and its tributaries as they tumbled together down the mountainside,
seemed to be conjuring light from the night. He wondered if the
bird, or one of its ancestors, had carried the berries up here: in
the valley below the stream vanished into a mass of blackthorn,
foaming white with blossom. He walked briskly down towards it,
anxious to keep warm.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
There were tracks amongst the
bushes: perhaps red deer hid here, or ate the leaves in the summer.
The path led him in, amongst the sickly-sweet scent of the bushes
with their white froth of buds and flowers, which hid from his sight
the young river. But the streams’ song seemed louder as he walked.
He followed the track as it plunged unexpectedly down a muddy gully
between scarps of rock into a halflight that still waited the dawn.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
Then he saw why the stream seemed
loud. The water poured over a lip of grey limestone, glowing gold in
the first rays of the rising sun, and then falling as a mass of
white, surging and frothing in the plunge pool below. Despite the
cold he stopped. His journey, started in the cold predawn light an
hour ago, could wait for a moment in such a place.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
The boulders strewn at the edge of
the pool were cold: carved into smooth flowing curves by years of
frost and flowing stream, and tattooed by the fossils of shells from
prehistoric seas. This one – half in, half out of the water –
curved inwards like a bone, with a mat of brown-dry ferns overhanging
the pool. It seemed natural to kick his boots off, sit with one leg
either side and refresh his feet in the ice-cold stream a<i>nd
suddenly, she was alive: sporting, frolicking in the foam, the stream
surging around her arms and her thighs, her back ice-slippery with
streamwater. She sprang from stone to stone, not seeming to notice
his weight, then splashed deeper, beneath the waterfall, the cold of
the water, fresh from the snows above, stabbing him like a knife.
His hands fumbled for hair – soft hair now, and not the harshness
of dead vegetation - trying to keep his balance against the power of
the falling water and the ferocity of her frisking in the waves.
Then she turned to the deeper water, towards the outlet of the plunge
pool, standing up so her stone-hard, cold muscular body pressed cold
against him, yet his fingers felt her flesh burn from her exertion.
She dropped again to her hands and knees to play in the sandy
shallows at the far side of the pool, then suddenly twisted round,
and galloped – there was no other word – back beneath the force
of the waterfall, writhing in the whirling water until he lost his
balance, </i>and lay breathless in the cold river<i>…</i></div>
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<i>-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
There was no breeze to disturb the
summer heat in the valley. He’d been hoping this last couple of
hours - as he’d walked, the forested hillside to his left had grown
less - that his journey was at last taking him out of the mountains.
But another horizon, more wood-wreathed peaks, had appeared beyond;
beyond, he assumed another valley with another river, and the sun
continued to rise higher in the sky, its brightness penetrating even
the tall pines to bake the forest floor.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<a href="" name="_GoBack"></a>So it must
have been nigh-on noon when he arrived at this other river. There
had been streams to cross before, sometimes cut deep into the soil
before now: usually a jump, sometimes to a convenient rock or islet
in the middle of a stream. But the river that came down from the
left was almost as wide as the one he was following – perhaps seven
or ten paces to the other side. He followed it down the hillside,
hoping there would be an easier crossing at the confluence. The pines
gave way to blackthorn bushes: interlaced branches, full leafed and
laden with green berries. Here, at least, was shade. And then the
bushes gave way to bright, burning sunshine, and, at the end of an
emerald green sliver of grass, the merging of the two rivers.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
He walked out, into the sunshine,
between the brown, limpid pools of the two rivers, and then jumped
down onto the sandy continuation of the crest between them. The
river that blocked his way here was narrow, but deep. He would have
to wade. The wet sand gave slightly as he sat astride the ridge to
roll up his leggings and take off his boots. <i>This movement was
not of the sand – although her goosebumped flesh beneath his palms
still had the texture of the sand. The current seemed blessedly cool
as she slipped into the muscle of water formed at the meeting of the
flows. She turned to the right, stood up in the main current of the
river so that the flesh of her back pressed against him; he gripped
her hips tightly with his thighs, and his hands slipped under her
arms to her breasts. Swift and smooth, she cut a swathe through a
mat of floating pine needles, leaving them bobbing and dancing in her
wake before crossing to the shallows at the far side of the tributary
river, and returning to her hands and knees, and waited </i>one with
the damp sandbank again, for him to dismount. He hesitated one
moment, indented the ridge of sand with his fingertips, expecting it
to spring back again like flesh….</div>
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<i>-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
A month ago these woods would have
been perfumed. Perfumed with honeysuckle, and glowing emerald green
with oak leaves. Now they smelled of the musk of the waning of the
year: yet they still glowed: glowed with the bronze of oak leaves,
flickering in the failing sunlight as the breeze disturbed the
branches, or scrunching under his boots. The honeysuckle berries
glowed too: he knew better than to eat those, but there’d been
plenty of haw and sloe to sustain him as he journeyed. The hunger of
spring was well behind him in this fruitful autumn.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
The sun, too, was falling into a
mass of colour. Soon it would be dark, and he’d have to find a
place to light his fire, and to make his bivouac for the night.
Ahead of him the valley – already broad and shallow became yet
wider. Wraiths of mist rose ahead of him, glowing gold and red as
they caught the setting sun’s rays.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
Here was a stand of bushes,
overhanging the river bank, and ripe with fruit. He picked his way
around, enjoying the tartness of the berries as he followed the edge
of the stand into the wood, and then back, down and round where the
mists rose from the river. The river seemed wider, the opposite bank
invisible in the fog, as if his journeying with the river had brought
him to the edge of a lake. Perhaps tomorrow he’d see how big it
was: in any case, tomorrow he’d continue his journey round the
perimeter, whether that took an hour or a month.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
Just downstream of the bushes an oak
tree had fallen. He found himself wondering what storm could have
brought it down; the trunk, supported in the river by four branches,
seemed to be washed smooth, with detritus – grass, old leaves and
twigs – from the storms of last week still clinging to it and to
the twists of honeysuckle stalk. Yet the branches, well above the
waterline, still held coppergold leaves. He could see them, still
shining in the sun above the rivermist. He would sleep tonight in
the scar left by the tree roots. He would harvest the straight
blackthorn shoots for a shelter, and light fire – the first since
the start of his journey – against the rising moistness in the air,
and against the white light of the full moon.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
But first he sat astride the fallen
trunk, shuffled and leapfrogged along until he could peer into the
river; perhaps there would be trout in the shadow of the branches
that he could tickle for his supper. <i>It was as if the sap still
in her remembered the storm that brought her down: swaying and
rocking from side to side, backwards and forwards. His hands fumbled
for the honeysuckle stem that twisted around her – not that he
needed a bridle to stay seated: whatever wind had brought her down
here, kept alive in her thoughts, she contained in her own strength.
Nor did the bridle give him any control. Her memory of the storm
dictated her movements. Even the mists swirled around her, pricking
his skin, yet she stayed, anchored to the lakebank as she reared and
plunged, sometimes out of the water, sometimes almost completely
submerged, soaking him to the waist in the cold river. Her moving
became increasingly violent, imagining, no doubt, the building up of
the storm, until at last he could grip the smooth skin no more, and
he found himself, </i>still clinging to the honeysuckle, in the water
beside her…</div>
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<i>-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
Cold. The fire glowed still, all
but dead, but still the only colour in this world of white. It had
been a long enough job on this shortest of days to collect firewood
amongst the salt-marshes. His hands still bled from the thorns. And
he had not collected enough for warmth through this night. Snow,
driven by an ice-cold wind, stung his flesh. He stood up. The sky
was scattered with stars, like frozen shards of ice. The blowing
snow was just spindrift, a thin layer of biting ice particles,
swirling angrily in the gale, yet no more than waist- high, piling
into drifts around any irregularity in the ground. Yet, standing up,
he could see the dim shapes of the hills he had journeyed down, and
the other way the sea, flickering with reflected starlight. Here his
journey would stop.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
He was glad of that. He’d already
lost the river, which had split into a morass of creeks, mudbanks and
tidal rivulets. Some were frozen, so the scrambling down and across,
although exhausting was easy. But others, more frequent as he neared
the sea and salt, had not been: he was filthy with stinking mud, and
the shrieking laughter of the seagulls had accompanied each fall.
He’d found himself wondering if he could trap and roast one over
his fire.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
The pond he’d bivouacked near had
been frozen. The wind had whipped the ice clear of snow, except for
one drift. Even as he watched, he could see it move as the wind blew
its load of spindrift across the crest.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
And so he <i>mounted her pure-white
back, and felt her anger surge within her. Not anger at him: anger
at the cold that froze her so. She punched at the ice,
ineffectually, then reared, brought both fist smashing onto, through,
the ice of the pond. She surged forward, pounding the frozen
surface. His feet and knees, soaked from her splashing, numbed as he
pressed, as tight as he could into her waist: he tried to dig his
fingers into the flesh of her shoulders, and saw with alarm the cuts
to his hands, made as he gathered firewood earlier, open up and
bleed. And still she moved into the water, pummelling, rearing and
plunging to shatter the ice that bound the river. Her own fists were
bleeding: the blood swirled in the water and splattered the snow as
she advanced. He leaned forward, lying flat across her back,
wrapping his legs around her, and gripping her wrists as they plunged
again and again into the numbingly cold water. And suddenly she
stopped.</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<i>He had never controlled her. Yet
she stopped. Watched as the two bloods – his and hers mingled,
then flowed under the ice in some current through the centre of the
pond. Then she turned, and bore him gently back to the riverbank.</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
********</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-88751476592873570522013-04-07T03:14:00.000-07:002015-03-29T10:37:19.677-07:00Adiranthe 13 - FinalEleria smiled to herself at the rather inglorious picture her former captor made, forced to all fours, saddled and bridled and just waiting for her. Glaring, but what could he do about it? She held all the power and she knew it.<br />
<br />
She stepped forward and took the reins, swung her leg over and sat down in the saddle. Just as she did so, Kardan did indeed try to move, she felt his strong muscles bunch under her in what would have been an attempt to throw her off backwards. But the magic prevented him. Oh, this was glorious!<br />
"Bad pony," Eleria laughed, "I said stay still!" She smacked his backside hard. She felt his muscles gather again, but to no avail. He tried to curse her through the bit.<br />
<br />
She slid her feet into the stirrups, settling her weight easily in the ornately tooled saddle, and took up just the right tension in the reins. It was almost like being astride a real pony, in a way that just a bare back horsey ride from a friend would not have been. In the saddle she was comfortable and secure, that and the bridle giving her total command. It put her utterly in control.<br />
She could feel his greater strength waiting tensely beneath her, all restrained energy, wanting to get rid of her, but unable. Fun!<br />
<br />
"Lets put some of that energy to good use!" Eleria sang, "forward, pony!" She jabbed the spurs against his thighs twice, lightly, mockingly, even though the verbal command would force him through the magic of the silk.<br />
He began crawling forward under her! Somehow his obedience was surprising, even though she knew he literally had no other choice. She sat, feeling the gentle swaying movement through the saddle.<br />
<br />
She reined him almost automatically as they neared the turn into the passageway, just as she would her real pony, Dapples. In other words, quite a gentle command, not force. Unfortunately the steed she was riding took no notice. So she used the reins to quite literally pull his head around. It wasn't that hard. And for good measure, she dug her right spur hard into his hip, causing his back half to instinctively move away from that leg even as his head was pulled around. Before he knew it, he was turning, under her control, without the silk having compelled him. He growled at her and tried to slow, and she laughed and forced him forward down the corridor. Between silk strips and spurs, he could literally not disobey.<br />
<br />
"You might as well settle into a nice steady gait here," she told him. "There's a long way to go especially at your turtle like pace."<br />
<br />
The Goblin King was, of course, not feeling very good about himself. Anger and humiliation warred within. To be defeated, robbed and <i>ridden</i> by this slip of a girl...! And worse, to have her make him obey her this way! The ignonimity! And yet, he knew he could not escape what was happening to him. What options did he have? To wait and see if he could catch her off guard when she was not using the silk to control him? perhaps throw her. She had lured him - he hated to admit it - into a false sense of security once before. So now he would pretend his obedience, and eventually she would give him an opportunity. He told himself that, as he carried his rider submissively through his own domain.<br />
She wasn't that heavy, and of course he was stronger than she, but it was still hard work, he was breathing faster as he moved along, and she heard it.<br />
"Aww, is this hard work?" Eleria said tauntingly. "Lets try a canter, shall we?" And Kardan found himself cantering awkwardly, more awkwardly than agile Eleria had, shuffle-jumping his hands forward, then his knees, then his hands, in an embarrassing parody of a canter. "Faster!" Eleria called, this was fun! Her spurs found his thighs again, once, twice, and poor Kardan was going all-out underneath her as she bounced lightly in the saddle. After only a short distance it robbed his breath quickly, and even through his trousers, his knees were beginning to feel sore. He didn't want to admit it but he would have loved to stop.<br />
<br />
But she wouldn't let him! It wasn't until his breath was burning in his lungs that she finally pulled him up with the reins. She laughed to hear him panting under her. She lifted herself up a little in the stirrups, and bounced her weight on his back several times, letting him feel the impact of her weight right through his body, before forcing him on yet again, at a walk now, reveling in his breathlessness.<br />
"Keep going, little pony," she mocked, "we're not even in the caves part yet!"<br />
<br />
In a short while, she reined him firmly around into a different passage, this one didn't lead to the caves that would take them outside, but rather to an area where the Goblins resided.<br />
As she had hoped, a Goblin came skittering along, and she reined her human steed to a halt. "Rear up!" she hissed, pulling hard on the reins, and he did, with her balanced easily in the saddle, then came back down again to all fours when she pushed her weight forward.<br />
The Goblin stopped and its eyes practically boggled out of its mis-shapen, pallid head as it took in the scene.<br />
"On your knees, filth!" commanded Eleria, and she took Kardan's magical necklace from where it hung round her neck, and held it up menacingly. The stunned beast fell to its knees, bewildered by the strange scene.<br />
"I have defeated your master," she said, and it looked down at its sweaty, horse-bridled, humiliated King. Kardan glared at it and his muscles bunched, trying to grunt something through the bit at the goblin, but Eleria pulled his head back hard, ruining the attempt. She ordered the goblin, "You will bring my real horse, the dappled grey, out to the surface and wait for us there. If you do not, your miserable life will be worse than your master's here."<br />
The goblin stammered and hesitated.<br />
Eleria held up the necklace once more, as if to wield its powers. "Now!"<br />
It ran.<br />
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Eleria sighed. "Being King is hard work," she said, relaxing in the saddle. "Now carry me to the surface, slave."<br />
Growling unintelligibly through the bit, Kardan obeyed.<br />
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During the arduous trek through the halls, tunnels and caves, the Goblin King tried a couple of times to throw his rider. The first time, he tried lulling her into that false sense of security, acting tired and obedient, then when he thought her guard was down, attempted to throw himself into a bucking fit. Sadly for him, the command of the magic prevented him. The second time, he thought her distracted as she gazed at the weird, strange twisted beauty of the caves around her, but again, to no avail.<br />
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Finally they reached the area of cavern where the very first showdown between them had happened, where Kardan had lain in wait and held up his stone in the darkness and practically blinded her with magical light. By this time, the Goblin Breath was truly near exhaustion, his muscular frame trembling and wet with sweat; it was quite a feat for anyone to carry a human weight that long.<br />
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"And thus it ends," Eleria said, half to herself and half to him, still in the saddle, as if he really were just her horse. "We have come full circle. This is where you meet adventurers who come to explore the supposedly empty Adiranthe, fight them and rob them... you are a thief too, really, aren't you, Goblin Breath? Shame you tried to enslave me. You weren't ever going to get away with that."<br />
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She dismounted him, and commanded the silk to keep him there on his hands and knees until nightfall. She removed first the saddle, then the bridle. He worked his jaw, relieving the ache that came from wearing it so long.<br />
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"Do not ever come back here, little pony slave," he growled at her. "I shall recover, and so will my magic, and you would not escape my wrath." The recovery part was true, for as well as the resources that lay beneath the ruins of Adiranthe, he still had the sorceress, whose powers he would use to enchant a new crystal to control the magics of the underground domain. "And you will always remember how I did indeed enslave you, and how you reacted to me, despite your fire."<br />
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"Ooh, the boy is trying to salvage his wounded pride," she taunted back, even though that last part had a small basis in truth. "Goodbye, Goblin Breath." And she walked away.<br />
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She found her way through the traps that she had come through to get here, having to tell herself to be careful; still high from her victory and a little shiver from the come down from adrenaline.<br />
Finally she reached the surface, and held her hand to her eyes, shielding them from the unaccustomed sunlight, looking around.<br />
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She saw a pair of figures, one smaller than her, one bigger and much more solid and four legged. A pang went through her heart. Dapples! She rushed forward, and indeed, it was the goblin she had intimidated, with her dappled grey pony.<br />
"Good. You are wise to have obeyed me," she told the goblin sternly when she reached them, one hand on the magical, crystal necklace round her neck. "Now go, and do not try to follow, or it will be the last thing you ever do."<br />
The goblin bowed its head and scuttled back to whichever tunnel it had come from. She watched until it had disappeared.<br />
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She felt a firm nudge - ok, more like a head-butt - and warm breath on her shoulder, and turned. Dapples regarded her curiously with his dark, liquid eyes, as if to ask her what the hell was going on.<br />
"Oh, Dapples, are you ok? Did they do anything to you?" She looked over her grey pony with concern, but he seemed fine. Overcome with emotion suddenly, the thief-girl threw her arms around her pony's neck, glad to have his solid warmth, glad for contact that did not involve battle.<br />
The horse snorted, as if to show amusement at his owner's nonsense. Eleria laughed through her little wave of emotion. "Oh, Dapples, we're rich. You're going to live in horsey luxury." And not feeling like riding right now, she collected her gear and led her grey pony away from the ruins of Adiranthe, talking to the animal about the riches they had won.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-90347328014071281602013-03-06T23:08:00.003-08:002015-03-29T10:37:19.679-07:00Adiranthe Ch 12 by PaladinThe name was just getting so unwieldy lol so has been shortened. Enjoy this, its <span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Paladin's last turn at Adiranth</span>e (with only the tiniest bit of guidance from me) before I take the reins again for the final turn.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kardan’s smile vanished, “I had hoped this foolishness was over. Since you arrived you have struggled against me and been defeated everytime. As much as I have enjoyed hearing your cries of submission and pleas for mercy I thought I’d tamed you enough pony.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria scowled as she thought of the times he had used his greater strength to dominate her and then to force her to yield to his demands that she carry him on her back. “I’m far from tamed,” she spat back, “and the only cries for mercy will be from you!” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kardan leapt up from his throne, one hand lashing out to grab her but Eleria was already springing backwards and the Goblin King’s hand swept through empty air. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria grinned at the surprised look on his face. She half turned and placed a hand on the small of her back. “You see this, Goblin Breath? Tonight was the last time your butt will ever sit here and this,” she slid her hand across her silk swathed rear, enjoying the way his eyes followed her movements. “This will be the last thing you see as I walk out of this kingdom of yours.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Before he could move after her Eleria turned, dived forward, landed on her hands and used the momentum to spring up driving her heels into the startled Goblin King’s chest.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kardan was thrown backwards, rolling until he crashed against his throne. He was up again in seconds and there was no sign of a smile this time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You crept into my kingdom to steal what you could, you were caught and told the conditions of your slavery which have been more than generous,” he growled.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You use your 'kingdom' as a trap for adventurers! You’ve used me as your plaything, riding me like a pony at your pleasure and you call that generous.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Compared to what I will do to you from now on, yes,” Kardan moved slowly towards her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria tried to circle around him but the Goblin King swiftly cut her off. He moved with a quickness that belied his size. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Now little pony I will break you to my will. If you think I’ve used you for my pleasure so far then you're mistaken... There are many parts of my kingdom that I’ve yet to see from the comfort of your back. You will learn love your saddle and your position under me and as for an end to your slavery that will be many years away if ever.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria’s eyes flashed with anger and she felt the enchanted silk shift and tighten around her body making her feel stronger and surer. “You’re wrong Goblin Breath. Not only will I be free of you by the end of this day but you will carry me out of this pit of a kingdom with a saddle on your back and a bit firmly between your teeth.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kardan roared with laughter, “I’m going to enjoy hearing you beg little pony while I sit on your chest so that I can see the defeat in your eyes.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria nodded, “just remember you’ve framed the terms of this challenge.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kardan paused a moment, taken aback by the firm tone in her voice. Shaking it off he rushed her intending to overwhelm her in one moment.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria dived under his arms, sprang to her feet and lashed out, kicking at the back of his knee. The Goblin King crashed to the ground but managed to half-turn and throw a huge backfist that only Eleria’s magically enhanced reflexes enabled her to avoid. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He got to his feet and closed on her once more. Eleria slapped away each attempt to capture her. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kardan sped up his attacks, trying to stun her long enough to get a firm grip on her so that his greater weight could come into play. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria’s confidence grew as she easily evaded him and she began striking back in earnest. She slipped under a wild swing and struck him in the ribs as she slid past. Eleria sprang up to her feet with blinding speed and launched a side kick at the turning Goblin King’s chest. As he’d done in the past Kardan caught her foot diffusing some of the impact but before he could take advantage Eleria twisted and leapt up, her free foot striking him a stunning blow. She landed low and as balanced as a cat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kardan stumbled back, shaking his head to clear it. He was breathing hard and the collection of short, sharp blows he’d received were taking their toll on his stamina. Her feral grin as she watched him trying to recover nearly drove him forward into yet another wild attack. Of course that was what she wanted. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kardan watched her cautiously. How was it that she was suddenly moving so swiftly and hitting with a force she’d never demonstrated before? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria rose gracefully from her crouch. She stretched as if unconcerned by his presence and Kardan found himself staring as the tight silk emphasised the muscles and softer curves of her body.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">‘Silk!’ The Goblin King gasped as the answer hit him. ‘The little wench had found a way to use the power of the magical silk against him.’</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“This game has been diverting but it’s over now little pony,” he growled.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria sniffed and stood with her fists on her hips. To emphasise her defiance she raised one hand and gestured for him to come forward, if he dared!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You will stand there without moving!” Kardan commanded as he imposed his will on the magical strips of silk.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Goblin King broke into a rumbling laugh as he watched the thief-girl’s panic as she realised she was trapped. She struggled to break free of the magic as he approached and Kardan savoured the moment as he approached slowly. His little pony’s eyes filled with tears as she realised she was helpless.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Close enough now he took a fist-full of her black silk bodice and pulled her closer to him, enjoying the feel of the silk and her equally soft skin against his hand. He ran his free hand slowly down her back, pausing as he reached the gentle curve he’d so recently ridden. Kardan laughed, “this, little pony and this,” he slid his hand down around the curve of her backside, “are mine and I will have the pleasure of feeling beneath me any time I command it.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria looked up at the Goblin King her eyes remarkably dry of tears and a crooked smile on her face. “There’s something you should know about your magical silk.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kardan’s eyes narrowed in suspicion but he was too slow to react. Eleria trapped the hand holding the silk and caught his elbow with her free hand. She yanked hard on the elbow twisting him off balance then swept his foot. Kardan crashed to the floor. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Goblin King gasped as the silk strips slipped from between his fingers, reforming into Eleria’s bodice. The thief-girl planted a foot on his chest and Kardan could feel the enhanced strength in her legs pressing down on him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Ready to start begging for mercy?” Eleria asked.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kardan grabbed her ankle and tried to twist her foot away from him but Eleria simply pressed down harder. Changing his attack the Goblin King tried to spin and sweep Eleria’s weight bearing leg.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria reacted instantly, springing backwards onto her hands and then over onto her feet. She tutted and waited with her hands on her hips for him to clamber back to his feet. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As he got up Eleria rushed in and caught his hands, intertwining fingers. She waited until he’d gathered his senses and began to squeeze and push. So many times she’d looked up at him as he’d used his height and strength to dominate her now the tables were turned. Eleria allowed him to struggle briefly before driving him down to his knees. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She giggled in a girlish way as he glared up at her, mainly because she knew it would drive him mad.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kardan suddenly dropped onto his backside. The sudden change tipped Eleria slightly forward but it was enough. The Goblin King rolled onto his back and as Eleria flew forward he thrust his legs up. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria was shot up to the high point of an arc and then slammed down to the floor on her back. She barely heard the air blast out of her lungs. With a growl Kardan rolled and came to a stop firmly seated on her chest. “Enough games wench.” He raised himself up and dropped his full weight squarely down on her chest, his weight forcing out what little air remained in her lungs. His shins bore down, grinding into her arms. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Goblin King shifted his hips as if trying to find a comfortable spot astride her breasts. Then he brought his knees in and began squeezing the sides of her head. “Feel like begging yet little pony? I hope not because I’m not finished with you yet.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kardan slid forward until his thighs framed her face. He grabbed a hand-full of hair and forced her face into his groin, again depriving her of the air needed before she could mount a resistance. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria could feel her captor’s excitement as he ground her face into his groin. The magical silk had protected her from injury but they hadn’t been able to stop her lungs from emptying. Now she was dazed and struggling to focus. She gasped for air as Kardan’s thighs tightened. ‘Work damn you,’ she ordered her body but nothing changed. She could feel her awareness fading and knew that if she passed out now she would awaken stripped of her advantage and helplessly at her captors mercy. Her Master’s mercy she corrected herself because she knew Kardan would crush all resistance from her after this rebellion.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If her body wouldn’t respond perhaps the magic in the silk would. She sent the last fading remnants of her will into the silken strips. Her legs jerked then acted without her muscles. They curved up and kicked out throwing the Goblin King off her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria gasped for air and pushed herself over onto her side. She could see Kardan slumped over by the wall but he was already starting to stir. ‘Up’ she ordered and her body slowly obeyed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria swayed but she could already feel the magic seeping back into her muscles.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kardan roared and lurched to his feet. He swung about and charged at the thief-girl. He could see she was unsteady on her feet and hoped a final charge would drive her back to the ground. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria stumbled, seemingly unable to steady herself, unprepared for the ferocity of the Goblin King’s attack. Kardan threw himself at her. As his arms swept out and around to engulf her dazed expression hardened.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria turned into his charge, dropping her weight and grabbing at the nearest arm. Her technique was far from perfect but subtlety was not needed. As his body connected with hers she pushed up with her hips and pulled hard on the arm in her grip.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The impact threw Eleria to the ground but the Goblin King crashed, out of control, destroying his throne. Eleria pushed her self up on one arm and watched in amazement as her opponent stirred. She got up and staggered over, kicking broken pieces of throne out of her way. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Goblin King shook his head and glared up at her, “I will crush you,” he said but his voice was hoarse and unsteady.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria stepped over his prone body and without warning jumped up. Her full weight landed on Kardan’s chest and as his head bobbed forward she drove her fist into his jaw. The Goblin King went limp.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria got up and retrieved Kardan’s jewel inset spurs. With a thiefs instincts she moved around the room evaluating, selecting and discarding. She chose only items easy to carry but of the highest value. A section of wall caught her attention, “too easy,” she muttered. Within moments a panel slid aside and a dragons hoard of gems trickled through her fingers. “Why live like a noble for a few months when I can buy my own castle?” She glanced over at the unconscious Goblin King, “let’s consider this payment for all my troubles shall we?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As she walked back towards the shattered throne her eyes fell upon the exquisitely tooled saddle that had so recently been strapped to her back. A king would pay a fortune for his spoilt daughter to ride in such a saddle. Eleria looked over at Kardan, but first it would be put to a better use.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kardan awoke to find his head buzzing and his jaw aching. The thief-girl! He tried to look around but found himself unable to move. Kardan realised he was staring down at the floor between his hands. He tensed his shoulders and pushed until the tendons stood out in his arms but he remained where he was.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“The interesting thing about your magical silk,” said a voice from beyond his view, “is that even a few strips seperated from the main group can still be controlled.” Eleria crouched down and lifted his head, “which means that with a few strips of silk I can control you.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kardan struggled again but the magic held him fast. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I don’t expect you’ll beg for mercy and I don’t have the time or inclination to force it out of you. Instead I intend to leave your kingdom, much wealthier than when I arrived, and you will carry me the whole way.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria stood and collected the saddle. She briefly held it so that Kardan could see it and then dropped it onto his back before cinching it place. The Goblin King trembled with unexpressed anger. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria crouched back down in front of him, in her hands she held the bridle. She raised an eyebrow and tapped the bit with one finger. “You can voluntarily open your mouth or...,” she left the threat unspoken. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Goblin King growled low, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. Eleria laughed, “naughty pony,” she chided, “now open your mouth!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kardan struggled but could not overcome the magic that bound him and in short order the bit was placed between his teeth and the bridle fixed in place. Eleria looped the reins over his head and studied the scene critically, “something’s missing,” she snapped her fingers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eleria sat down where Kardan could see her, “I can’t ride a naughty pony without spurs can I?” she asked innocently. She bound the spurs to her heels. “What do you think?” She spun one of the rowels and laughed. “Time to go pony.”</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-4836472278637872042013-02-18T23:28:00.000-08:002015-03-29T10:37:19.661-07:00Beneath the ruins of Adiranthe. Part 11 (by Paladin)<br />
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Editors Note - you should read the last parts of Chp 10 before the first part of this :) Paladin takes it in a cute direction, I thought. Go Eleria!</div>
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*****</div>
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The Sorceress wore an emerald chemise which gave her freedom of movement and outlined her figure. She’d removed all jewellery and had unbound her hair. The blond sauntered to the middle of the chamber and stood waiting with her hands on her hips.</div>
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Eleria stood opposite her and although she wanted to punish the sorceress for her humiliation in the feast-hall she didn’t want to take all her frustrations out on the woman. She also didn’t want to reveal to Kardan the extent to which she could now control the magic of the silk strips.</div>
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“A test of strength to begin?” the blond suggested. She raised both hands, palms outwards. Eleria shrugged and matched the gesture. Their fingers were quickly entwined. </div>
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“A pity you’re feeling so weak,” the sorceress whispered. “In fact you already know your rightful place is on your knees.”</div>
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Eleria shook her head as if struggling against a compulsion to obey.</div>
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“Begin,” the Goblin King commanded.</div>
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The sorceress began squeezing and trying to use her slightly greater height to force Eleria’s hands back. Eleria gasped as she felt herself slowly being forced back and down. She tried to step back and circle around to give herself some room but the sorceress cut her off and with a wide grin applied even more pressure. Eleria collapsed to her knees with a sob as the blond woman towered over her. </div>
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“Submit now and I’ll not hurt you too much,” the sorceress licked her lips as she looked down on Eleria. “Continue to struggle and I will punish you, then I will sit astride your face until you’re ready to beg to submit to me.” The sorceress moved close enough for Eleria to feel the woman’s thighs touching her face.</div>
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“There is a third choice,” Eleria growled. She gathered her strength and surged to her feet. In a single move she rose to her toes then drove the sorceress down to the floor. The woman wailed as her fingers were bent backwards.</div>
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Kardan’s laughter echoed around the chamber.</div>
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Eleria broke their fingerlock but before the sorceress had recovered she caught the blond’s wrist and stepped around and behind the kneeling woman. Eleria pushed the blond forward and sat enough of her weight on the sorceresses’ back to keep her there. She then twisted the wrist she’d captured until it was high up the other woman’s back.</div>
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The sorceress screamed in pain and tried to dig the nails of her free hand into Eleria’s leg. After a brief struggle Eleria trapped that wrist as well. She rocked her hips forward and rode the blond to the ground. </div>
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As Kardan had once done to her she sat in the small of the sorceresses back and pulled the woman’s arms backwards, stretching her like a bow. Now it was the blond’s turn to sob in agony. </div>
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Eleria continued to hold the sorceress in that position until she felt her opponent’s struggles grow weaker. She knew if she held her here the woman would submit, after all she had when Kardan had done it to her, but that wouldn’t be enough after all the woman’s taunts. Eleria released her opponents arms and the sorceress collapsed to the ground.</div>
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Eleria stood the reached down to take a handful of blond hair. She dragged the woman to her feet. The sorceress threw a weak punch which Eleria easily blocked. She then whipped her arm around locking the blond’s elbow. Eleria then straightened her own arm. The sorceress screamed and rose up onto her toes to try and relieve the pressure.</div>
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Eleria released the lock, stepped in close and spun, throwing the sorceress over her shoulder. The blond landed hard on her back the wind driven out of her. Eleria slowly walked around her opponent, making it clear to Kardan and the woman on the ground that she was fully in control.</div>
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The sorceress tried to slowly rise but Eleria placed her foot on the woman’s chest and pushed her back down to the ground. “Submit?” she asked.</div>
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The sorceress spat at her, “I don’t submit to gutter trash thieves.”</div>
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Eleria smiled and removed her foot, “so glad to hear it I didn’t really want this to end too quickly.”</div>
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Eleria again dragged the blond to her feet then waited. The sorceress grabbed Eleria around the waist trying to crush her to force the air out of her lungs or to smother her with her ample breasts. </div>
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Eleria allowed the woman a moment of hope before allowing the woman to take her full weight on her arms. The Sorceress snarled, squeezing harder, thinking Eleria was weakening.</div>
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Eleria laughed and swung her legs around the woman’s body. She kicked hard behind both knees and the sorceress dropped to the ground. Eleria pushed hard off the floor and drove the blond backwards landing heavily on top.</div>
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Eleria quickly pinned the sorceress's wrists to the floor and straddled her chest. “Well?” she demanded.</div>
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Her opponent tried to look away but Eleria caught another handful of hair and pulled her head back around. “I quit the battle,” the sorceress answered.</div>
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Eleria looked to the Goblin King who shrugged gestured to indicate that he would leave it in her hands. Eleria looked back at the sorceress. It wasn’t enough she decided.</div>
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Eleria slid forward until her thighs framed the blond woman’s face. She repaid the earlier slap with one of her own! “This challenge is to a submission, you don’t get to quit it. You submit or to quote you will be made to beg to submit.”</div>
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The sorceress bucked but quickly gave up when she realised Eleria couldn’t be so easily unseated. “Lord Kardan she cried. “Surely you can’t mean for this guttersnipe to treat me like this?”</div>
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Kardan considered the scene before him for a long moment before answering. He loved the sight of the sorceresses body helplessly pinned beneath Eleria as much as he loved the dominant pose Eleria held with her silk clad behind firmly placed on the sorceresses chest and throat, her shins pressing down on the blond’s arms and her own hands resting on her hips. It was not an image he would quickly forget.</div>
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“As much as it pains me to do this my dear sorceress but you did in fact frame the conditions of this challenge yourself and my pretty pony, who appears very comfortable astride you by the way, has every right to demand your submission. I would suggest, that unless you have some some strength in reserve to allow you to escape, that you carefully consider your position under my pony and remember what you threatened her with could easily be visited upon you.”</div>
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The sorceress glared up at Eleria, “you wouldn’t dare.”</div>
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Eleria laughed and ran her fingers through her hair to show her complete control of the sorceress and her disdain for any resistance she might show. She bounced on the blond’s chest, enjoying each groan and grimace, using her thighs to ensure the sorceress was forced to look up at her.</div>
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Eleria paused, “once I would never have considered it. I would much rather have beaten your pretty face black and blue but right now I’m not above humiliating you with your own threat, in fact...,”</div>
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Eleria shifted forward and dropped her butt on to the sorceresses face, smothering the woman’s snarl of outrage. The blond’s struggles were short-lived and she went very still. It was an unusual feeling to be in such a commanding position on top of another woman. </div>
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Eleria had no doubt that she would have been utterly humiliated if it had been done to her and knew that for someone so used to dominating others it would be an even more intense defeat. She moved back onto the woman’s chest. </div>
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The sorceress looked up at her without a trace of her usual arrogance. “Well?” Eleria demanded.</div>
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“I submit,” </div>
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Eleria gave her an amused look, then moved as if to sit astride her face again.</div>
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“Please,” the sorceress cried, “please I beg you to accept my submission.”</div>
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Eleria laughed and patted her beaten opponent’s cheek. She stood and ordered the sorceress onto all fours. Eleria stepped over the blond and without taking her eyes off Kardan she slowly lowered her weight onto the woman’s back. The sorceress made no protest even when Eleria caught up her hair and drummed her heels against her thighs.</div>
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Eleria rode her slowly towards the Goblin King’s throne and only reined her in once they were right in front of Kardan.</div>
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The Goblin King watched it all with an intensity that reminded Eleria that her objective of distraction was certainly being achieved. </div>
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“Sorceress you have been fairly overcome in combat and have submitted, you are now bound to my service for one month. Do you accept this?”</div>
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“Yes Lord Kardan.”</div>
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“And to seal this,” Eleria added as she dismounted. She placed her foot on the sorceresses head and pushed it down until the woman’s lips met Kardan’s boot. </div>
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The Goblin King smiled, “you are dismissed sorceress.” The kneeling woman vanished. “And now, what to do with you my victorious pony, hmm?”</div>
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Eleria collected the sorceresses emerald necklace and placed it around her own neck. She sauntered back up to the waiting King and placed her arms around his neck. Eleria gave him a light but soft kiss on the lips. She backed away from the throne.</div>
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“Now, now we fight for my freedom.” she said.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-4088373065126136902012-12-23T22:29:00.000-08:002015-03-29T10:37:19.655-07:00Christmas Story - By Unferth!"Christmas" - By Unferth<br />
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“<span style="font-size: small;">Shall we dance?”
She had stretched, ever so slightly onto her toes, so that her words
came as a breath in his ear, her perfume sweet to his nose. As he
hesitated, she brushed her lips against his “or perhaps you’d
like to hold me as I dance or” – she pirouetted, graceful even in
her high heels, so that she stood finger-tip apart from him, head
tilted in question “would you just like to watch me?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">He looked away,
awkward. He’d not been surprised when she’d said earlier that
she was a dancer, she’d moved with a lithe elegance, the black of
her dress catching the flaring and flickering as she lit candles in
the flat. “I’m afraid I can only manage Gangnam Style – and
that badly!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Her head tilted again
as she smiled– he couldn’t decide if he found the mannerism
irritating or endearing. “We should put some music on, anyway.”
She dropped his hand, turned and quickly traced the rack of CDs with
her finger. He couldn’t see the title, just the red sleeve and
smiling santaclause on the cover before she opened it, pulled out the
CD and left the open case on the TV, and kneeled down to the CD
player beneath. He watched her hemline rise – he still couldn’t
see if the sheer of her thighs came from stockings or tights – and
her skirt pull taut over her buttocks. “I don’t have any PSY”
She turned, dropped her hands to the carpet “but Gangnam Style it
is. You sit astride me!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;">From the speakers, a
keyboard played a simple waltz rhythm
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BjmGbI-Mnys">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BjmGbI-Mnys</a></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
“<span style="font-size: small;">I’ve never danced
Gangnam to Saint Cliff!” Gingerly, he stepped over her, eased
himself gently into the small of her back</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
“<span style="font-size: small;">Me neither” she
twisted her head round, so he could see her smile “Do you mind
sitting a bit further back? Don’t want to damage myself”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
“<span style="font-size: small;"><i>The child is a
king…”</i></span><span style="font-size: small;"> he felt her rock beneath him,
backwards and down, </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>“…The carollers
sing…”</i></span><span style="font-size: small;"> and forwards again, </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>“..the
old is past…”</i></span><span style="font-size: small;">; back again: her bottom
must have been pressed against her heels: his knees bent, his thighs
nestled into the wide gold belt round her waist, and he rested his
fingertips on her shoulders so that the straps of her dress peeped
out between his fingers </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>“…there’s a new
beginning…” </i></span><span style="font-size: small;">as she pivoted forward again,
he felt her muscles tense beneath his fingers. “…</span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Dreams
of Santa…” </i></span><span style="font-size: small;">his hands slid over her, so
that her shoulders cupped in the palm of his hands</span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>
”… dreams of snow…” </i></span><span style="font-size: small;">and, as she
rocked forward again, he let her lift his feet off the carpet, let
his fingertips flow across the warm sculpture of her shoulder bones.
“…</span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Fingers numb…” </i></span><span style="font-size: small;">with
his weight fully supported on her back, he could better feel the
satin of her skirt as it slid between her hips and his thighs</span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>,”…
faces aglow” </i></span><span style="font-size: small;"> He moved forward as she did,
then, gripping her tightly between his knees leaned forward further,
so he was almost laying flat on her back, his hands gripping her arms
just above her wrists.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
“<span style="font-size: small;"><i>Christmas time,
Mistletoe and Wine…” </i></span><span style="font-size: small;">He’d expected her
to rock backwards again</span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>, “…Children
singing Christian rhyme..” </i></span><span style="font-size: small;">and was slightly
unbalance as instead she swayed her hips</span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>.
“…With logs on the fire…” </i></span><span style="font-size: small;">from left
to right in time to the singing:</span><span style="font-size: small;"><i> “…and
gifts on the tree..” </i></span><span style="font-size: small;">he heard her sharp
intake of breath as he momentarily squeezed harder with his knees “…</span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>A
time to rejoice in the good that we see” </i></span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
“<span style="font-size: small;"><i>A time for
living, a time for believing…” </i></span><span style="font-size: small;">He was
ready for the change this time, sitting straight, his palms on the
cool smoothness of her dress back, his fingertips on the warmth of
her skin </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>“…A time for trusting, not
deceiving…</i></span><span style="font-size: small;">” his feet brushing the floor
as she rocked, slowly backwards, then forwards again </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>“…Love
and laughter and joy ever after…” </i></span><span style="font-size: small;">He
wondered if, in the next verse</span><span style="font-size: small;"><i> “…yours for
the taking, just follow the master.” </i></span><span style="font-size: small;">he’d
be able to kiss the nape of her neck, just beneath the knot of
almost-black hair.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
“<span style="font-size: small;"><i>Christmas time,
Mistletoe and Wine Children singing Christian rhyme…”</i></span><span style="font-size: small;">
Then he realised, as he enjoyed the sensation of her hips, swaying
beneath him in time to the chorus, that the back of her neck was
stationary. </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>“…With logs on the fire and
gifts in the tree…”</i></span><span style="font-size: small;"> So he leaned forward,
squeezing her waist, gripping her wrists, and gently touched the
vertebra of her neck with his lips. </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>“…A
time to rejoice in the good that we see</i></span><span style="font-size: small;">”
Her gentle moans of pleasure as he kissed again counterpointed, in a
dusky contralto, the melody of the song.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">***</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
“<span style="font-size: small;">I’ve set the CD so
that it only plays one track at once” she explained, in the silence
after the choirboy’s solo. He stood up: she stood up, stretched,
then wrapped her arms around him again, pushed her body into his.
“You enjoyed that, didn’t you? Again? But this time you can
have reins! Its not proper Gangnam without reins.” She stepped
back, reached to the back of her head and removed one, two three
hairclips, and waves of hair cascaded down her back. As she turned
quickly on her toes, to put the clips next to the CD box on the
television, her hair flowing in the candlelight, seeming black
against her pale skin, rich chocolate against the black of her dress,
and casting a dark shadow across her belt. She tilted her head
again, laughing. “Why don’t we up the stakes? If you can stay
on my back as I dance, you choose the next track. If you can’t, I
get to choose?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
“<span style="font-size: small;">I don’t know which
track is which”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
“<span style="font-size: small;">Ah, but I do! And
it’s my flat, so I’ll make the rules up to give myself some
advantage!” She dropped to her hands and knees again “Come on,
think of a number from one to – er twenty, I think. But not three.
Cliff was three.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
“<span style="font-size: small;">One”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;">He sat astride her
again as she pressed buttons under the TV. Then those chords
</span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MzczoqLBWAY">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MzczoqLBWAY</a>
<span style="font-size: small;"> “A good choice! If I was standing up I’d have my
air guitar out.” Then suddenly her head was shaking, her body
writhing in time to the music. He couldn’t catch her hair, and the
smoothness of her back offered nothing, so he hooked his fingers into
the gold of her belt, braced his knees into her waist with his feet
and hung on as her upper body thrashed and shocked to the music.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
“<span style="font-size: small;"><i>What will your
daddy do…”</i></span><span style="font-size: small;"> She paused: the only movement
was her breathing, heavy from her exertions </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>“…When
he sees your Mama…”</i></span><span style="font-size: small;"> and he took the
opportunity to lean forwards, grab handfuls of her hair </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>“…Kissin'
Santa Claus?..”</i></span><span style="font-size: small;"> and pulled it tight,
hoping that the reins she’d offered would control her ” </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>“
…Ah ah”</i></span><span style="font-size: small;"> “Ah ah” – she sang along
and as the music picked up the tempo again – she’d evidently
caught her breath - “Are you hanging up a stocking on your
wall?...” not headbanging now – his hold of her hair stopped that
“…Are you hoping that the snow will start to fall?...” but
rocking, twisting “…Do you ride on down the hillside in a boggy
you have made?...” shaking and singing, suddenly rearing “…When
you land upon your arse then you've been Slade.” </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;">How she turned so
quickly after he’d fallen of her back he didn’t know. He managed
a rueful smile “I’m not sure that’s quite the right lyric”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
“<span style="font-size: small;">I threw you!” the
singer’s cry of “Merry Christmas” became her cry of triumph!</span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;">***</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The gold belt joined
the hairclips on the television: her hemline dropped ever so slightly
“Can’t give you too many things to hold on to! Ready for the
next round?” She dropped to her hands and knees again, her dress
more fluid now that the belt did not restrain it. “And it’s my
turn to choose. Lets have thirteen!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
“<span style="font-size: small;">Unlucky for someone”
He sat, carefully on her back, gathered handfuls of her hair, and
gave her ribs an experimental squeeze with his knees as she pressed
the buttons on the CD player.
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VCEZEOYdfwo">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VCEZEOYdfwo</a></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
“<span style="font-size: small;"><i>DaDaDaDaDaDaDaDaDaDaDaDaDaDaDaDa”
</i></span><span style="font-size: small;">her hair held her head still, but her
shoulders shook violently to the music until the straps of her dress
pulled to guitar tightness… </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>“DaDaDaDaDaDaDaDaDaDaDaDaDaDaDaDa”
</i></span><span style="font-size: small;">and at the cymbal splash, she arched her
back. </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>“Santa Claus is coming to town”</i></span><span style="font-size: small;">
And suddenly her head reared towards him: instinctively, he grabbed
hold of her, almost letting go of her hair, then feeling the softness
of her breasts push against his hands as she dropped back to all
fours “</span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Santa Claus is coming to town” </i></span><span style="font-size: small;">This
time, his face was filled with her hair, her perfume: he scrabbled
with his feet to stay seated. </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>“You’d
better watch out, you’d better not cry, you’d better not pout,
I’m telling you why.” </i></span><span style="font-size: small;">He was more – or
less ready for her this time, holding her shoulders through her hair,
letting his legs take much of his weight, and able to enjoy the
sensation of her back pressing against him…</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
“<i>He's making a list…” </i>She
moved more gently now – perhaps tiring: he slipped forwards
slightly, watching as the dress rucked and crinkled above her waist<i>
“…And checking it twice…” </i>and pinned the hank of her
hair to the back of her neck with his hand…<i>” …Gonna find out
who's naughty and nice…”</i><span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span><span style="font-size: small;">and
squeezed her with his knees, and very gently tapped her buttocks.
</span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>“Santa Claus is coming to town” </i></span><span style="font-size: small;">That
gave her energy!</span><span style="font-size: small;"><i> “Santa Claus is coming to
town” </i></span><span style="font-size: small;">But he was ready: keeping his
balance. Another tap on her arse – definitely not tights! And
this was a dance he understood. He would choose the next track!</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-52865092291839203032012-12-03T00:07:00.002-08:002015-03-29T10:37:19.670-07:00Chance Meeting - Epilogue (Paladin)<br />
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Chance Meeting Epilogue</div>
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A small crowd waited across the lobby for the next elevator to arrive. I walked out of the breakfast lounge and paused at the fringe. A few of the business men glanced my way but without my suit I doubted many placed me as the one who’d left with the blond they’d all been salivating over. </div>
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Now thoughts of my blond pony girl were far more interesting than contemplating the opinions of overweight middle management types. My blond had fought then submitted to me on the mats. Even now I could hardly believe the ease with which she’d slipped into the role I’d offered her. If the wrestling had been the opening of her mind, then riding her back to my room had been a revelation. </div>
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I had physically exhausted my blond pony and then forced her on with the deliberate intent to break her will. As I’d repeatedly dropped my weight onto her oil slicked back and slipped up her spine she’d gone beyond play, beyond fantasy and had finally given me her power and control. In that moment I had felt the intoxicating power of knowing she’d surrendered completely and would obey any direction, any whim I cared to indulge.</div>
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I’d held that power in my hand as firmly as I’d held her hair and then I’d released her. That strange mix of submission and freedom had flooded her senses. </div>
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It was really too soon to be thinking back on last night, my body was responding far too quickly.</div>
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A hand touched my arm, startling me out of my memories. A girl around nineteen or twenty stood next to me. It took me a moment to recognise the red hair of the girl who had encountered me mounted on my blond. Without the cocktail dress and make-up she looked younger than she had. She was wearing a hooded sweatshirt zipped down to show a hint of a blue sports top and her hair fell down her back in a long, single braid.</div>
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“Did you do it?” she asked.</div>
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“Do what?” I offered her nothing.</div>
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She looked around but no-one was paying us any attention. “I know it was you in the elevator.”</div>
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“Do you?”</div>
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“Well you were wearing a suit and sitting on top of a blond’s back at the time but yeah I’m pretty sure.”</div>
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I smiled as the doors opened and moved forward. The redhead caught my arm again. “This one’s full, you should wait for the next one.”</div>
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“It’s not that full.”</div>
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She shrugged, “okay I don’t mind carrying this on in a small room full of other people.”</div>
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I frowned but let the doors close. “So what is it you want to know?”</div>
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She moved a little closer, “did you ride her all night?”</div>
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“For a fair portion of it, yes.”</div>
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“Did she end up being your pony thing?”</div>
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“My ponygirl slave, yes she did.”</div>
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“She was weak anyway.”</div>
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“Really?” I looked her slowly over, noting the tone and shape of her body.</div>
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“Yeah, I’ll bet I could have kicked her ass and made her my slave easily enough.”</div>
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I smiled but said nothing. Although the thought of the two of them fighting it out for dominance was a pleasant tingling thought.</div>
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“What did you make her do?”</div>
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“Apart from wrestling her and riding her?”</div>
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“Yeah did she have to, you know” she glanced around.</div>
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“No she didn’t have to but when she submitted to me it was a natural way of showing she accepted my dominance.”</div>
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“You couldn’t dominate me,” she challenged. Slowly she unzipped her sweatshirt. The blue sports top ended just below the curve of her breasts, revealing a toned stomach and tiny lycra gym shorts. “I’m supposed to be going to the gym but,” she left the sentence unfinished.</div>
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I decided in an instant to see just how far this girl’s bravado would take her. </div>
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“Take off your sweatshirt.”</div>
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She hesitated for a moment then pushed it back off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. She placed her hands on her hips and stared defiantly at me. She was a little shorter than my blond and more obviously muscled, plus she has the absolute certainty and confidence in herself that only comes with youth.</div>
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Riding her would be so challenging but that would make victory even more exciting.</div>
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“Get down on all fours.”</div>
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“Here? But we’ll be seen.”</div>
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I shrugged, “the blond was brave enough to risk being seen.”</div>
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It was amusing watching the conflict cross her face. She didn’t want to be embarrassed but overriding that she didn’t want to think that my blond ponygirl was stronger or braver than she was.</div>
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Slowly she crouched down, almost as if she was reaching to get her sweatshirt. Then her knees touched the polished marble floor. Without realising it I was holding my breath, watching her intensely. She lowered herself until she was fully kneeling, then with an exhaled breath she rocked forward. The sound of her hands landing seemed overly loud but there she was on all fours in front of me.</div>
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Her back looked strong and the natural curve of her spine promised a yielding but powerful seat. The soft curve of her breast contrasted with the firmness of her stomach and the muscles in her shoulders and arms. She was built to be ridden!</div>
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The elevator doors slid open.</div>
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Before I could hesitate or change my mind I stepped over her and dropped my weight heavily onto her back. She gasped but recovered so quickly, her back literally thrusting back up under me. </div>
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I caught up the long braid and drummed my heels against her thighs. She sprang forward and I clamped my thighs along her sides to steady my balance. We hit the entrance to the elevator in such a rush that I had to lean back and check her forward motion with her long braid. </div>
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As the doors closed she spun without warning. I wrapped my legs around her waist and squeezed. She reacted by spinning the other way, then bouncing her back up and down.</div>
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Power. She was all power and attitude. She stopped facing the doors. The reflection showed her chest heaving with the exertion but the look on her face was undaunted. </div>
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I could feel the muscles tensing under me. I pulled her head back, “save your energy pony, you’re going to need it.”</div>
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She resisted, moving restlessly under me despite the tight grip I maintained on her head. “I’m not your pony yet,” she growled.</div>
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I laughed. This girl would fight to the end. She wouldn’t submit just because she was tired or unable to throw me. I would have to impose my will on her at all times, any let up and she would take her chance. Adrenaline pumped as I looked to the battle ahead.</div>
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“Oh you’ll get your chance to prove that.” Keeping a tight grip on her hair I reached out and pushed a button. She quickly tried to move out from under me but I’d expected that and just as quickly had my weight centred on her back again.</div>
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“Where are we going?” She demanded. Then she paused, “did that blond slave put up as much of a fight?”</div>
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“Up to the roof. Why so determined to better her?” I asked genuinely interested.</div>
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Some of the tension went out of her and I let a length of braid slide between my fingers. “When I first saw you siting on her back I didn’t know if I should be amazed, shocked or if I should call the police. I mean you don’t usually see a girl in her underwear being ridden in an elevator. Then you made her talk and you seemed so powerful. I wandered what would make her want to be under you like that. Then she gave me a look and I knew she was telling me to back off cause you were hers.”</div>
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“I’m surprised you even cared,” I interrupted.</div>
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She nodded, “I’ve always been too competitive but right then I just wanted to give that blond slave the beating of her life. I wanted you to watch while I beat her down and made her cry and admit that I was the better, stronger girl and that you should be trying to ride me.”</div>
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I drew in a deep breath, I really didn’t know what to say and at that moment my heart was pounding.</div>
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“Why are we going to the roof?”</div>
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“Lots of space and pads and the first classes don’t start until midday today.”</div>
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She moved and my legs tightened instinctively, “just seeing if you were awake,” she laughed. “I’m not going to let you win,” she added.</div>
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“I’d be very disappointed if you did,” I replied.</div>
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“We’re nearly there. I want you to tell me something like you told that blond.”</div>
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I understood what she meant. I reached forward and ran my hand up her neck and lifted her chin. “I’m going to ride you pony. I’m going to dominate and control you and when you’re begging me to stop and let you rest I’m going to keep riding you until your muscles are quivering and shaking.” </div>
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She was trembling under me and I could tell from the look in her eyes it was with excitement not fear. I whispered into her ear, “I will ride you until you collapse under me and then I will put you on your back and sit on your chest. That way I will be able to look into your eyes while you’re submitting to me. Once you have admitted that you’re beaten and that you’re my obedient ponygirl slave I’ll let you up and then I’ll ride you and you’ll obey my every command.”</div>
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The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. I grabbed at her braid and tightened my legs as she exploded out into the sunlight. I whooped and brought my hand down firmly on her backside. the battle was on! </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-2110416625717358502012-11-21T23:00:00.000-08:002015-03-29T10:37:19.548-07:00Beneath the ruins of Adiranthe part 9 - by Paladin<br />
I have dibs on the very ending, but Paladin wrote this and the next two or three parts, I enjoyed reading them very much indeed and hope you all do too. ~Susan<br />
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With no-one to observe her, Eleria brought the mirror out from behind the screens and studied her reflection. It was, she had to admit, a remarkable use of magic. The silk followed every contour of her body. Eleria half turned and rolled her hip, she gave her backside a pat, ‘damn but the black silk makes my ass look good. It would actually make a very effective thieves garb if it wasn’t for the neckline.’</div>
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Eleria studied the bustline critically. Too much skin would reflect even a glimmer of light, potentially waking a sleeping mark. The silk bodice quivered slightly as she continued to look at her reflection. “Perhaps more of a halter-top,” she mused. “It would cover more of my chest while leaving my arms free.” </div>
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In the mirror she watched stunned as the silk strips wove themselves up, forming the top she’d imagined. Eleria gasped and her carefully built up image vanished. The silk quickly reverted back to it’s original design. </div>
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The magic in the material had responded to her thoughts, she was sure of it. Eleria concentrated on the boots. In response the ridiculously high heels shrank. She let the image go and the heels shot up quickly enough to nearly throw her off balance.</div>
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Eleria tried again and the silk responded more quickly becoming the kind of outfit suitable for stealthy movement and nefarious deeds. With a little practice she could hold the image in the back of her mind while walking, then running. Finally she launched herself into the air, tumbling then landing lightly. She jumped again and lashed out with a spinning kick that whistled through the air. Eleria landed in a low crouch. She sprang backwards, landed on her hands and balanced easily. Eleria transferred all her weight to one hand and performed a smooth one-handed press-up. As she dipped a second time she allowed her self to roll forward and back up onto her feet.</div>
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Easy! All too easy. Kardan was right the magic enhanced all her strengths and not just the ones he thought would benefit him most. Eleria clamped down on her elation. He couldn’t suspect anything until the right moment when she would use the magic against him, defeating him and winning her freedom.</div>
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For a moment she allowed herself to picture revisiting all her humiliations back on her captor. How would it be to throw him to the ground and look into his frustrated face as she straddled his chest, pinning him to the ground and demanding he submit. Or to ride him through the stone corridors of his own realm until he collapsed exhausted under her. Eleria grinned, oh he would be exhausted all right. She would drive him on till he begged her to get off, then on again until he promised her anything just to be allowed to rest. Then when his limbs shook and his back sank beneath her she would force him to carry her on until he collapsed and admitted she had utterly defeated him.</div>
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Eleria clenched her fists. Kardan obviously hadn’t expected her to discover the secret of the silk or even more likely he hadn’t known her will could be imposed through the magic that infused the material. </div>
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She strode, confident for the first time since her capture, to the door. When she’d been learning her trade her teacher had encouraged her to learn how to use every tool at her disposal. Kardan might be powerful, might be lord of his domain but he was still just a man and Eleria knew how to manipulate that weakness. She allowed the silk to revert to it’s original form then opened the door. “I wish to speak with your master and you will take me to him, now.”</div>
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Whether it was the commanding tone in her voice, her neckline or pure shock the goblins bowed and led her away. </div>
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They led Eleria to the most ornately carved set of double doors she had yet seen. Her guards spoke quietly with the door guards who kept looking at her. With a sigh she brushed through them and pushed the doors open. </div>
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As Eleria barged into Kardan’s personal chambers a part of her mind couldn’t help but assess the value of the objects that lay scattered around. Wealth that could keep a thief in luxury for years lay within easy reach everywhere she looked. Her fingers itched.</div>
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The guards rushed in behind her. Spears blocked her way and Eleria put her hands on her hips, “Kardan!” she yelled.</div>
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A half dressed Goblin King strode in from another chamber. He smiled, “I don’t remember summoning or requesting your presence.” He waved the guards away.</div>
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Eleria let her gaze move slowly up his body, not bothering to hide her attention. She gave Kardan a lazy smile that she could see confused him. He was also physically appealing which would make her subterfuge that much easier.</div>
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Eleria lowered her head but looked up at him through her lashes. Submissive but sweet, nothing like her usual defiance.</div>
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Kardan frowned then crossed to a chair. He dropped his weight into it. “Well you came to see me so speak. Tell me what brings you here?”</div>
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Keeping her head bowed Eleria stepped through the circle of guards. Once clearly in Kardan’s view she slowly, very slowly, dropped down to her knees.</div>
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Kardan’s eyes widened, “leave us,” he ordered and the goblins left in swift order. “Now what is this about?”</div>
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Eleria ignored the question but raised her head to look at the Goblin King, knowing he couldn’t help but look at her cleavage. Once she had his attention she began to crawl, slowly, towards him. She emphasised the shift of her shoulders and sway of her hips as she crawled.</div>
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Kardan had shifted forward in his chair, his chin resting on his hand as he watched every movement. “I’m not sure what...,” his voice trailed away as she drew closer.</div>
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Eleria stopped before him. She lowered her head a softly kissed his bare feet. She easily felt the shudder of delight that passed through his body. Smiling wickedly to herself, knowing he couldn’t see her expression she again lowered her head. Lightly she drew her tongue across the soft skin of his feet. Tracing curves and lines as Kardan gasped and made soft moans of pleasure.</div>
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Eleria rose without a sound and took his boots from beside the chair. Gently she helped him into them. Then she took up his spurs. Silver and jewel inset she could live like a noble for months off the pair of them. </div>
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Eleria straightened up so that she could look Kardan in the eyes. Lightly she placed the rowel of the first spur against her cleavage. As Kardan watched, unable to tear his eyes away, she rolled the golden points up between her breasts to her throat, up over her chin to her lips. She kissed the rowel allowing her lips to press softly against the metal. Eleria bowed back down and fastened the spur to a boot.</div>
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Eleria took up the second spur and with a teasing look she repeated her earlier action. As the golden rowel met her lips though she raised the spur higher and tilted her head backwards. Her tongue slipped from between her lips to caress the points. Eleria’s tongue curled delicately around the golden disc then flicked back setting the rowel spinning. She fastened to his boot.</div>
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With a final teasing look Eleria dropped forward onto all fours and turned away from Kardan making sure her hips rolled emphasising her silk wrapped behind. She positioned herself on all fours the very image of a submissive pony. As if stretching she rolled her shoulders and then let the movement flow through her body. </div>
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Eleria heard Kardan stand up and move towards her. His hand came down on her shoulder. As he traced it down her back she arched and dipped like a cat. His hand came to a halt on her backside and she could feel the heat of his skin through the silk as his fingers followed the curve of her behind. </div>
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Kardan stepped over her without speaking. He lowered himself gently, allowing his weight to settle into the curve of her back. Before he could speak or act Eleria rocked forward. As she did she lowered her chest towards the ground, pushed up then rolled her back feeling Kardan move up and down with the movement. Eleria continued to sinuously roll and move her body, constantly keeping Kardan moving, pressing up against him then dropping him deeply into her. For his part Kardan said nothing but his breathing grew quicker, shallower. He rode her with each movement, making no attempt to influence what she did.</div>
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Eleria increased the pace of her movements and Kardan’s body responded to the pressure moving against him. Eleria grinned to herself. Physically she was finding this easy and although she was on all fours it was her who was actually in control.</div>
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She sped up, slowed down and then using her enhanced strength lifted him higher than before. She dropped her back as deeply as she could and felt Kardan sink into her back and he groaned. She did it again, faster this time and Kardans spurs finally found her thighs. “Faster,” he commanded.</div>
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Eleria grinned again, “yes Master,” she said breathlessly, although she felt fine but he expected her to be struggling by now. </div>
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“Command me Master,” she pleaded as she sped up. “Make me your slave, ride me until I please you!” She moaned as if at the last vestiges of her strength. </div>
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Eleria felt Kardan’s muscles tighten dramatically. His breathing became a loud roar as he reached the pinnacle of his excitement. Eleria stopped and sagged as if exhausted. She let her head drop as she felt Kardan lean forward to hug her. “I have no idea what brought this on,” he whispered into her ear, “but I would happily trade a kingdom for a slave such as you.”</div>
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He stood and Eleria rose to her feet also. She crowded close and kissed his chest, “a slave you might free one day if you are pleased with her,” she murmured into his chest.</div>
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Kardan chuckled, “an interesting change of tactics my little pony and one which I think will serve you much better than your customary defiance.” He held her at arms length, “I need to quickly refresh myself but when I return I should again find you saddled and ready to be ridden.” He raised an eyebrow as if expecting her to protest.</div>
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Eleria simply dropped back onto all fours, “I am ready Master,” she said. </div>
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As Kardan left she watched him go, walking out of the room with an arrogant swagger. “I’m ready all right goblin breath,” she whispered to herself.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-18986239746136980052012-11-11T21:13:00.000-08:002015-03-29T10:37:19.545-07:00Beneath the ruins of Adiranthe Ch 8 - By Paladin<br />
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Surprise! Paladin has taken a hand in writing Adiranthe. A gauntleted hand? Should we be worried??</div>
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This does not start directly where the last chapters finished, you could imagine a couple of days later.</div>
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*****</div>
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Eleria could hear the flap, flap of leathery feet. Goblins! she was beginning to despise the sight and sound of them. Goblin Breath’s obsequious minions constantly padded up and down the corridors outside her room. Eleria glared around her room, cell more like it! There was nothing left to hurl. They’d taken it all and if she’d dared throw any of her bedding the little fiends would have happily left her to sleep on the stone floor.</div>
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She stretched and could tell her muscles were back to their normal fluid strength. Her captor hadn’t made any demands of her in days. No demands that she play the role of his pony as he arrogantly rode her throughout his underground kingdom. No wrestling matches that would end with him sitting astride her body laughing down at her. The thought reminded Eleria of other feelings his attentions had brought but she ruthlessly pushed them away. </div>
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Soon he would make a mistake and she would be free. Every physical challenge honed her strength, every contest between them gave her opportunities to study his skills, to find a weakness.</div>
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The door opened and her guards trooped in. “The Master commands your presence,” one hissed. </div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Eleria sneered, “he’s not my master.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
The guards stood like statues, waiting. Eleria knew her patience would run out before theirs did so she stood and walked through the doorway. Her guards fell in step. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
If she was honest with herself she would have admitted that although the lack of attention from the Goblin King had given her body time to recover it had also given her time to become very bored.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Eleria was a thief by choice as well as by natural ability. Any other life would have been stifling and dull.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
The guards halted before a large door. Without waiting for her them Eleria threw the door open and strode in. The room was something of a surprise. A large folding screen blocked off one corner of the room while the largest stone bath Eleria had ever seen dominated the centre. Steam rose up from the bath carrying with it the scent of roses. She turned to find her captor observing her from the comfort of a throne-like chair.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
“You wanted to see me?” she made it sound like a challenge not a question.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
He raised an amused eyebrow, “slaves are summoned not requested.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Eleria bristled, “I’m a captive not some piece of meat on an auction block.”</div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Kardan laughed. “Strip!” he ordered.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Eleria shot him a look of pure hate, “bite me goblin breath.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
He laughed louder, “if it would make you more compliant I would but for now you will strip and then bathe.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Eleria frowned. It didn’t quite sound like he was about to take advantage of her so what was he up to. “Why should I?”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Kardan wrinkled his nose, “you smell,” he commented and gestured towards the bath.</div>
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Eleria’s eyebrows shot up, any retort was swallowed by the shock of his statement. “I what?” she demanded.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
He shrugged, “you smell and I simply thought you’d enjoy the chance to bathe.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
As quickly as possible and without making it too obvious she evaluated his statement. After days of living underground and the physical demands placed on her it was no surprise she was a bit fragrant. “Fine but I’m only doing it because I want to. I suppose you’re going to watch?”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
He shrugged and smiled, “one of the privileges of being your captor I suppose.”</div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Eleria turned her back on him and quickly stripped off her brief underclothes. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Kardan watched intently as Eleria climbed the steps to the broad lip of the bath. Steam rose to wreath around the soft curves and toned muscles of her body. She dipped a toe in a sighed at the temperature of the water. Eleria half turned to offer him a wicked smile knowing he’d be watching. Then she slowly lowered herself into the water.</div>
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Eleria felt the heat from the scented water sink deep into her bones. She allowed herself to slip beneath the surface before rising pushing her hair away from her face. On the stone lip opposite were jars and soaps. Eleria took her time testing and enjoying each offering. </div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Kardan watched without speaking, allowing her to take whatever time she wished. Eventually she slipped beneath the surface one last time before rising and turning to face him. Her skin glowed and beads of water ran down her face to trace fascinating lines across her shoulders and down the curves of her breasts.</div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Eleria coughed, “my eyes are up here.”</div>
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With a jolt Kardan realised he’d been staring, barely breathing, like a youth seeing a beautiful girl for the first time. Eleria ran her hands through her hair and laughed as Kardan’s eyes darted between her eyes and her chest.</div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
“So what happens now?”</div>
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Kardan pointed to the large screen, “you’ll find everything you need behind there.”</div>
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Eleria took her time leaving the bath, a distracted captor after all was a more easily defeated captor.</div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Behind the screen she dried herself and combed out her hair in front of a large crystal mirror. Curious she opened a large chest filled with what appeared to be long strips of black silk embroidered with silver thread. ‘Beautiful,’ she thought, ‘but hardly useful.’ She dropped a length to the floor. It quivered and slid across the stone towards her. More strips emerged from the chest.</div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Eleria fought her panic and fought to move but her feet appeared glued to the warm stone floor. The silk strips rustled as they swept across the stone before spiralling up her legs. Silk whispered as it swept in a gale of activity around her body. </div>
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‘Magic,’ Eleria silently cursed.</div>
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<br /></div>
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When the silk tempest ended Eleria stared amazed into the mirror. Tall silken boots rose above her knees while strips criss-crossed around her thighs and seemed to outline her muscles as the strips clung to her skin. Eleria frowned, the silk seemed to cling even more tightly around her backside. From her hips the silk strips wove tightly around her waist, rising to form an intricate bodice with an almost indecent amount of lift.</div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Black gloves covered her hands to her elbows and the last silk strip appeared to have swept her hair up and threaded itself through a long single braid that fell to the middle of her back.</div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Eleria stormed back out from behind the screen, “what she growled is the point of all of this?”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Kardan steepled his fingers and looked at her with admiration open on his face. “Stunning,” he said.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Eleria smiled for a moment before remembering how angry she was supposed to be. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Kardan smiled. “Tonight is a special celebration, exotic foods, wines, guests of great importance. As host and lord of this realm I must make an impression and you will help me do so.”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; min-height: 21px; padding: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
“Am I meant to wait on you hand and foot, smile at your every inane joke perhaps.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
“Oh I have a much better job for you my lovely little thief but first the final part of your outfit.” He waved a hand and perfectly on cue a goblin appeared carrying a magnificently tooled, black leather saddle. It’s proportions were perfectly measured to fit Eleria’s back and the pure silver tracery pressed into the leather matched the elaborate designs in her outfit.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
“I am not.., you are not putting that thing on me!” </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Kardan raised a single finger and the silk tightened, a gesture and the magic in the silk bent her legs, dropping her to her hands and knees.</div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Eleria cursed, but the magic held her firmly in its grasp! Kardan walked around her enjoying her position from all angles. He chuckled and bent down beside her. You will find that when you don’t fight it the magic in the silk augments and magnifies your natural strength. </div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Kardan took the saddle and placed it gently in the curve of Eleria’s back. He stood back, made a small adjustment then at a gesture a strip of silk bound the saddle tightly to her body. </div>
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Kardan placed one foot in a stirrup and with a smooth motion mounted. Eleria felt his weight settle onto the saddle, hearing the soft creak of leather. Strangely his weight, which would normally have drawn a low gasp of effort from her, seemed diffused and somehow lighter. </div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Kardan took a firm hold of her long braid and kicked his heels against her thighs. Eleria started forward, instinctively wincing as she expected the hard floor to bite into her knees and hands. There was no pressure, no hard stone. The boots and gloves absorbed each motion as if she were crawling over the softest furs. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
He kicked her again, harder this time but although she felt the pressure she felt no pain. In fact she felt stronger and crawled more quickly. “Faster pony,” Kardan’s hand smacked her backside.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Eleria gritted her teeth, fine he wanted faster she’d show him faster. Eleria moved from a scrambling crawl to a rocking canter. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Kardan roared with pleasure as he guided her around the room by her braid. The saddle ensured his position on her back remained perfectly positioned while the stirrups gave him the balance he needed to ride her like a real pony. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
He reined her in tightly and she responded immediately. Kardan could just feel her sides swell as she breathed deeply and for a moment he wished he was astride her without the saddle or any other barrier between them. Perhaps when the feast was over he would try this again but with significant modifications to her magical silk outfit.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Kardan reluctantly dismounted. He released the magic that bound the saddle and Eleria and she stood up. “Impressed?” he asked.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
She snorted and looked down at her outfit, “at least it’s self cleaning.”</div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Kardan smiled and ran his fingertips gently along her jaw. He resisted the sudden but powerful urge to trace the line down her throat to her bodice. “Tonight you will help me make a grand entrance. Eat, rest and be ready when I summon you.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
After Kardan left Eleria waited until his minions had brought food and drink in and then left. “I’ll be ready all right goblin breath!” </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
Despite the extra weight of the saddle on her back she’d carried Kardan with little effort and carried him at a remarkable speed. The magic in the silk truly had enhanced her own strength. Now she needed to discover what other advantages 'goblin breath' might have unexpectedly given her.</div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #454545; padding: 0px;">
*****</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964142098703434964.post-81609669744930874952012-11-05T02:24:00.001-08:002015-03-29T10:32:08.696-07:00The Complete Story ListEDIT, The blog owner is on partial hiatus from the Internet but hopes to see you all soon. Here are the stories.<br />
<br />
Updated Feb 2015. Please tell me if you'd prefer each story chapter to open in the same window, or in a new window/tab. Currently, they open in a new window.<br />
<br />
There are stories here by 6 different writers. This story list is getting quite long now!<br />
<br />
If you have a story you'd like to see on this Blog, then email it to me ( I will get around to posting it, even if it takes a long time!)<br />
susandejong2003@yahoo.com.au<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">By Susan</span></i><br />
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<br />
<b><u><a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2014/06/short-story.html" target="_blank">Short Story (just by itself)</a></u></b><br />
<b><u><br /></u></b>
<b><u>Saraya's Bet:</u></b><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2014/01/sarayas-bet-chapter-1.html" target="_blank">Part 1</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2014/01/sarayas-bet-chapter-2.html" target="_blank">Part 2</a><br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2014/01/sarayas-bet-part-3.html" target="_blank">Part 3</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2014/01/sarayas-bet-part-4.html" target="_blank">Part 4</a><br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2014/01/sarayas-bet-part-5.html" target="_blank">Part 5</a><br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2014/06/sarayas-bet-final.html" target="_blank">Part 6 Final</a><br />
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<br />
<b><u>Jason's Wheels:</u></b><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2014/01/jasons-wheels-part-1.html" target="_blank">Part 1</a><br />
<br />
Part 2 is a Work in Progress<br />
<br />
<br />
<b><u>Jockeying for Position:</u></b><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2013/12/story-jockeying-for-position-chapter-1.html" target="_blank">Part 1</a><br />
<br />
Part 2 is a Work in Progress<br />
<br />
<br />
<u><b>Beneath The Ruins of Adiranthe:</b></u><br />
<u><br /></u>
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/05/beneath-ruins-of-adiranthe-part-1.html" target="_blank">Part 1</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/05/beneath-ruins-of-adiranthe-chapter-2.html" target="_blank">Part 2</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/06/beneath-ruins-of-adiranthe-part-3.html" target="_blank">Part 3</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/08/beneath-ruins-of-adiranthe-part-4.html" target="_blank">Part 4</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/11/beneath-ruins-of-adiranthe-part-5.html" target="_blank">Part 5</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2012/01/beneath-ruins-of-adiranthe-part-6a.html" target="_blank">Part 6a</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2012/02/beneath-ruins-of-adiranthe-part-6b.html" target="_blank">Part 6b</a><br />
<br />
Part 7 Currently being re written/tweaked<br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2012/11/beneath-ruins-of-adiranthe-ch-8-by.html" target="_blank">Part 8</a> (written by Paladin, edited by Susan)<br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2012/11/adiranthe-part-9-by-paladin.html" target="_blank">Part 9</a> (by Paladin)<br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com.au/2013/01/beneath-ruins-of-adiranthe-part-10-by.html" target="_blank">Part 10</a> (by Paladin)<br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com.au/2013/02/beneath-ruins-of-adiranthe-part-11-by.html" target="_blank">Part 11</a> (by Paladin)<br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2013/03/adiranthe-ch-12-by-paladin.html" target="_blank">Part 12</a> (by Paladin)<br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2013/04/adiranthe-13-final.html" target="_blank">Part 13 FINAL</a> (By Susan)<br />
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<br />
<br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">By Paladin</span></i><br />
<i><br /></i><a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2015/02/mr-ps-revenge-by-paladin.html" target="_blank">Mr P's Revenge (part fiction part non)</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2014/12/story-yasmins-point-of-view-by-paladin.html" target="_blank">Yasmin's Point of View. Sequel to Saraya's Bet</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2013/04/hay-barn-ponygirl-story-by-paladin.html" target="_blank">Hay-Barn Ponygirl - Short story</a><br />
<i><br /></i>
<u><b><br /></b></u><br />
<u><b>Casey the Pony-girl:</b></u><br />
<u><br /></u>
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/08/casey-pony-girl-part-one.html" target="_blank">Part One</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/08/casey-pony-girl-part-two.html" target="_blank">Part Two</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/08/casey-pony-girl-part-3.html" target="_blank">Part Three</a><br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/08/casey-pony-girl-part-4-final.html" target="_blank">Part 4 Final</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<b><u>Breaking In the Bronco:</u></b><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/08/breaking-bronco-by-paladin-part-1.html" target="_blank">Part One</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/08/breaking-in-bronco-part-2.html" target="_blank">Part Two</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/09/breaking-in-bronco-part-3-final.html" target="_blank">Part Three (Final)</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<b><u>Chance Meeting:</u></b><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/11/chance-meeting-part-1-by-paladin.html" target="_blank">Part One</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/11/chance-meeting-part-two-by-paladin.html" target="_blank">Part Two</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/12/chance-meeting-part-three-by-paladin.html" target="_blank">Part Three</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/12/chance-meeting-part-four-by-paladin.html" target="_blank">Part Four</a><br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/12/chance-meeting-part-5-final-by-paladin.html" target="_blank">Part 5</a><br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2012/12/chance-meeting-epilogue-paladin.html" target="_blank">Epilogue</a><br />
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<b><u>The Hotel</u></b><br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2012/02/hotel-part-one-by-paladin.html" target="_blank">Part 1</a><br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2012/02/hotel-part-two-by-paladin.html" target="_blank">Part 2</a><br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2012/10/the-hotel-part-3-by-paladin.html" target="_blank">Part 3</a><br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2012/10/the-hotel-part-4-final-by-paladin.html" target="_blank">Part 4 Final</a><br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2012/06/rodeo-challenge-short-story-by-paladin.html" target="_blank">Rodeo Challenge - Short Story</a><br />
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<u style="font-weight: bold;">Pony's Revenge</u> (A slightly different perspective!)<br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/10/ponys-revenge-by-paladin-part-one.html" target="_blank">Part 1</a><br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/10/ponys-revenge-by-paladin-part-two.html" target="_blank">Part 2</a><br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/11/ponys-revenge-by-paladin-final.html" target="_blank">Part 3 Final</a><br />
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<u><b>A Chance Encounter Revisited</b></u><br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2013/12/a-chance-encounter-revisited-by-paladin.html" target="_blank">Part 1</a><br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2013/12/a-chance-encounter-revisited-chp-2-by.html" target="_blank">Part 2</a><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">By M</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2014/12/story-first-ride-by-m-anonymous.html" target="_blank">A First Ride</a> (Part One)<br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">By Unferth</span></i><br />
<i><br /></i><a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2015/02/to-magazine-by-unferth.html" target="_blank">To a Magazine</a><br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2013/04/in-tangents-to-her-orbit-story-by.html" target="_blank">In tangents to her orbit</a><br />
<i><br /></i>
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com.au/2012/12/christmas-story-by-unferth.html" target="_blank">A Christmas Story</a><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">By Tonypony</span></i><br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2011/08/story-from-tonypony.html" target="_blank">"Wilson" A story about an unusual pony girl!</a><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">By Henry</span></i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<b><u>The making of a Pony</u></b><br />
<b><u><br /></u></b>
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2012/02/making-of-pony-by-henry.html" target="_blank">Part 1</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2012/02/making-of-pony-part-2-by-henry.html" target="_blank">Part 2</a><br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2012/02/making-of-pony-part-3-by-henry.html" target="_blank">Part 3</a><br />
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<a href="http://strangemisadventures.blogspot.com/2012/10/the-making-of-pony-part-4-final-by-henry.html" target="_blank">Part 4 Final</a><br />
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