Saraya's Bet Part 4

Saraya bent over further, her back now nearly horizontal with him still astride, her hands on her slightly bent knees, gasping for breath as she tried to recover. Her body longed to drop him, but after what had happened she didn't dare. Miguel just sat there amused for a minute or so.

"Walk a little like that" he commanded and touched his heels lightly to her. She obeyed without thinking and he smiled at the level of obedience he had brought her to.
It was difficult to walk while bent over that far under his weight. The balance was tricky, the load felt heavier and Saraya's exhausted muscles did not want to obey her. She staggered slowly forward under him.
"OK, straighten up a bit," he allowed. The girl straightened her torso to half-bent with a gasp of relief.

Then a giggle came from nearby.
"Look at that," Yasmin laughed, that truly mocking laughter that only the popular girls seem to know how to do, and that those who are less fortunate hear all too often. "Saraya the pony-girl!"

Somehow the other girl's tone snapped something within Saraya. It was one taunt too many. Fury flaring, not even thinking, she dropped to all fours in a surge of adrenaline, totally surprising her rider, slithering out from between Miguel's legs before he even knew what was happening.
She came at Yasmin who just looked on in shock, and tackled the other girl to the ground!

"Catfight! Catfight!" called the guys nearby and a small circle of people surrounded the two girls wrestling. Saraya's sudden tackle had given her the advantage and she had the popular girl mostly pinned.
"Get OFF me!" Yasmin protested, struggling, trying to dislodge her attacker. But Saraya, filled with adrenaline and determination, used Yasmin's struggles to turn her over onto her stomach, then pinned her with both her arms behind her back!
Soon Yasmin was still wriggling and swearing under her rival, but unable to get free with her arms held as they were. Both girls panting for breath. Saraya looked around at the faces staring at them.
A wild idea came to her. She smiled suddenly.
"Her turn!" she managed to say through the horse-bit. The way she had Yasmin pinned she was sitting astride her lower back, and Saraya pantomined kicking her heels against the outside of the pinned girl's legs.

"No way, get off me, you stupid bitch!" spat Yasmin, wriggling, but everyone watching laughed, Miguel too.
"You did tease her a lot," he chuckled as he eyed the struggling party girl. "I think it's only fair..."
He leant down and stripped the simple bridle from Saraya's head, and Saraya held Yasmin down while Miguel put the bridle on her instead!

Then they let Yasmin up. Her face was angry, glaring at both Saraya and Miguel. Saraya laughed. She still wasn't at all pleased with Miguel, but the opportunity for revenge on Yasmin was too sweet to be denied. So she watched as the stirrup belt and pad was transferred to the other girl, who struggled against it for a moment before giving in and letting it happen. A couple of the other young guys around hooted and demanded that they have a turn as the rider, but Miguel waved them off.

"A contest," he said to the two of them, having to speak loudly over the music and noise. His eyes gleamed. "We see how long your friend can carry me now. Then you again. If you can do better than her, the debt is absolved. If not, then she gets to ride on you!"
Saraya weighed the risk, then her eyes gleamed.
"Of course I'll take that," she flared proudly, "Yasmin's a weak little party girl!"
Yasmin glared.

But that glare was not to last. Miguel had her lean over and support herself on Saraya, and in moments he was mounted on Yasmin's back, his feet in the stirrups once more, feeling her slim young body adjust to the strain of carrying him.

With tentative steps Yasmin moved forward, very slowly, and protested something incomprehensible through the bit. Miguel prodded her lightly with the spurs... and the girl squealed with fright, moving sideways instead of forwards!
Saraya laughed. The man had barely even touched her rival with the aids and already she was jumping like a spooked horse!
The parade was moving now and Saraya walked along with it, alongside the 'new' horse girl and rider, feeling light headed and oddly calm. It wasn't just her now, which lessened her feeling of humiliation. Now it just looked silly. Particularly when it was her rival being the pony!
Saraya's thighs and backside still felt a bit heated from her own less than gentle experience, but with the leftover endorphins still flowing she found she didn't care that much. Especially not since she was going to win.

To be continued.

Saraya's Bet Part 3

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The town Parade was the biggest occasion of this rural region! Much music, noise, and shouting was going on. Girls and women were dancing and laughing raucously, everyone was drinking, and horses were being ridden through the streets. Occasionally one of the riders would ask their horse to perform a piaffe or similar move, only sometimes with success; many of the horses were sidling and shying at all the noise. But this was normal.

Three of Miguel's friends now rode their horses onto the main street. Miguel dragged his "pony" out of the pickup truck and led her along behind them. People laughed and pointed as they saw the pretty girl tacked up with stirrups, half-saddle and bridle! Saraya felt absolutely, totally mortified. She had always kept herself aloof from everyone, thought of herself as something better than the usual country peasant. Now she'd always be known as the horse girl... strange, clownish, bizarre. She would never be able to live it down!!

"Git on her back!" someone yelled and others laughed and shouted their agreement. Miguel gave an exaggerated bow and turned to Saraya.
"Put your hands on that rail there" he ordered. She obeyed, feeling dumb, but knowing there was no real alternative. "Bend your knees and bend over a bit!" he commanded.
She did so and closed her eyes, bracing herself as she bent, her hands tightening on the fence rail she held. The next thing she felt was him grab her shoulders and jump nimbly onto her back from the side!
She staggered under him for a moment, his rough mounting action unbalancing her momentarily before she managed to recover. Miguel laughed, holding on. "Not the strongest horse I've ever ridden!"

He wriggled around, finding the best position astride Saraya's back which was bent in piggyback position, settled his butt against the padded saddlebag attatched to her waist belt, and slipped his feet into the stirrups. Some people who were watching clapped and cheered them and many laughed at the somewhat comical sight of a girl being ridden like a horse! Saraya closed her eyes in shame.
Miguel now took the reins and pulled them taut; Saraya felt the bit's pull in her mouth. "Move away from the railing," he ordered, touching spurs to her thighs.
Saraya took her hands off the railing, firmed up her torso under him as best she could, and moved tentatively away from the rail, sidestepping a little before finding her balance under him. He felt heavy, but she found she could actually carry him this way.
"Good, my horsey, gooood," he crooned mockingly. She might be feeling awkward and uncomfortable, but the position was quite comfortable for him and he was enjoying himself, he felt dominant, powerful, amused at her predicament, all at once. "Now we ride!" And he lightly spurred her forward.
Slowly she moved forward in an awkward, unsteady walk.

Miguel sat her back as she walked, feeling her move under him, enjoying the feel of her between his thighs. It was definitely fun! With his feet high off the ground, she really was carrying him, although like last time he could tell that it was difficult for her.
Just for the fun of it he lifted himself up a little in the stirrups before easing himself back down again. She stopped, and he realised he'd accidentally pulled on the reins and maybe unbalanced her a little too. Concentrate, he thought to himself, loosening the reins and kicking her on lightly. The spurs (and the quirt he carried) felt good too in a strange way. He didn't really intend to cause skin damage or anything, but the power they gave him felt good in their own way.
He rode her slowly forward through the noisy street, towards where a few men on horses were. Gradually her movements became more confident as she found the best way of carrying him.

Everyone who saw them laughed and pointed and yelled out comments, "Look!" "He's riding a chick!" "There's a dude riding on a girl like a horse!!!"
Soon Miguel and Saraya were the center of attention.
They were pretty near two guys on real horses, the men had managed to get their horses to concentrate enough to do that stationary trot-dance on the spot that resembled a piaffe. Nearby came the sounds of traditional guitar music from someone's CD player, almost flamenco style, popular for the "dancing horse" stuff.
"Hey Miguel!" "Cute horse!" "See if you can make HER dance!" and similar calls came from the people around them.

Saraya groaned through the bit, carrying him like this was hard enough. She knew she couldn't dance properly with him on her back. And she didn't WANT to dance with him on her back in front of everyone, either!! Being ridden in front of everyone was already bad enough! She stopped, refusing to move.
"Come on, horse," laughed Miguel atop her. "See the dance the other horses are doing? Like a shuffle. You dance like that now." And he tightened the reins and spurred her lightly at the same time. She shook her head, prancing and tossing and sidling around, so he repeated the command, also bringing his quirt whistling down across her backside.
Saraya yelped but kept fighting him, pulling back against the reins, wanting to do anything except just submissively give in! Her hands yanked at his legs, trying to pull them away from her torso and destabilise him.
WHACK! WHACK! The quirt came down in earnest now, quickly followed up by a jab of his blunted spurs to her thighs. The men watching the activity laughed and cheered Miguel on, wanting to see the rider break in his feisty "pony"!
Saraya's efforts to pry the strong legs from around her sides were proving useless, and the sting of his 'aids' was fast becoming too fiery to ignore... There was no other alternative but to obey! With a shudder and a groan Saraya began an awkward prancing on the spot, trying to lift her feet high. That felt almost impossibly difficult to keep up for long - so she tried a sort of shuffle-trot instead, transferring her weight from one foot to the other with a small bounce in each step although the "up" foot never totally left the ground. This was still hard, but possible. Without her knowing it, she was moving in a similar way to the real horses' piaffe.
"Ha! Yes, like that," Miguel encouraged her as he felt the soft little bounce. "Move those feet pony!" And he brought the quirt down across her backside again.
The sting was fiery, even through her shorts and Saraya obeyed without thinking, adrenaline charging through her body in response to the sharp command. She performed the bouncy shuffling trot on the spot, shifting her weight sharply from one foot to the other, left, right, left, right, her heart rate and breathing coming hard and fast with the intense exertion.

The onlookers laughed, "hey, she's doing it!" And indeed she was, dancing next to the two real horses. Miguel laughed and held tight, feeling the impact of each soft-heavy bounce through his backside, her movements were jouncing him softly up and down on her back with every step. It felt good. He leaned into her a little more. "This is good, pony," he hissed in her ear, "keep going! Dance!"

A minute or two more of this, and sweat began to run down Saraya's flanks as she kept up her shuffling trot-on-the-spot dance. It was exhausting! Already her body was starting to ache and protest intensely at the heavy weight astride her. She tried stopping for a moment, but her rider would not let her, pushing her on with the aids. She gasped. She couldn't stop, he wouldn't let her! Her feet picked up the pace again, her tired back still bent under her rider.

Miguel was enjoying the ride, the feeling of her rhythmic "trot" felt really good, and his very public dominance of one of the snootiest, proudest girls in town had everyone laughing and cheering. Her flagging strength somehow made it more enjoyable to push her on. Each time she slowed or tried to stop to catch her breath, he urged her on, even though he could hear her gasping for breath, feel her body tiring.
Finally the girl stumbled a little and he reined her to a halt.
"Okay, okay, easy pony," he said with a laugh. "You can rest."

To be continued!

Saraya's Bet - Chapter 2

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Saraya's Bet Part 2
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Saraya was not a happy girl. She had not been allowed to back out of her lost bet.

Miguel had dismounted, pulled her to her feet and led her out of the paddock; most of the guys who had watched now followed, suggesting all sorts of wild ideas from bridles and saddles to curb-bits to keep her in order, as well as more rude and lascivious ideas! To Saraya's horror Miguel had bantered along with them, even making suggestions of his own as he marched her to the stables!

She hissed in Miguel's ear as they reached the stables. "You are joking, right?? There is no way I can carry you through a parade! You cannot hold me to this!!"
Miguel had just looked at her and grinned. "You seem plenty strong enough to me, darlin', and we had a bet..."

They went to the big tack room where all of the tack and show gear for the Cavalo Preto horses was kept. As well as Miguel and a few other guys, there was one seventeen year old girl, Yasmin, who had always been  one of the most popular and flirtatious - and bitchy - girls at school. Now, Yasmin was laughing just as much as the men at the idea of Saraya being humiliated like this.
Also one of the older women from the homestead came in and stood in a corner of the room, watching, perhaps making sure that things did not get too wild.

Saraya stood mute and statue-like and very grumpy indeed as the others, including the boisterous younger girl, laughed and bantered about what to do with her. The idea seemed to be that Miguel would ride her piggyback style so that everyone would be able to see them. Saddles and bridles were discussed but it was clear that all of the horse things would be far too big for her.
"Put a strap round her waist and hang the stirrup leathers from that," said Yasmin wickedly. "And put a bit in her mouth and just buckle a strap around her neck."
Saraya glared at the other girl. Yasmin just smiled mockingly back at her and then turned to Miguel. "Can't have her misbehaving!" she chirped. "Oh, this is so funny."

"Mm, not a bad idea," Miguel said. And in the end, that was what happened, although it took more than a few minutes to make it work.

The bit was perhaps the worst thing. They used one for smaller ponies. Saraya had to open her mouth and let it in, which she refused to do, tossing her head away; one of the men had to use his fingers to make her open up. Once the bit was in her mouth, held there by a makeshift strap that went around the back of her neck and under her long black hair, Saraya could not talk. Just like a horse. Reins were attatched to the rings at the sides of the bit; one of the men tugged the left rein and her head turned without her even meaning it to. She tried to protest, but all that came out of her mouth was a muffled, garbled noise. The men and Yasmin all laughed.

Ten minutes later, Miguel led a very embarrassed and humiliated Saraya out of the stables. Stirrups dangled from a heavy belt around her waist; a padded saddlebag had been attatched to the belt at the base of her back to stop her "rider" sliding off.  She was bundled unceremoniously into the back of a pickup truck, and told to hold tight. And off to the parade they went, some of the men on their horses, everyone else either in pickup trucks or cars.

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Saraya's Bet - Chapter 1

On re-reading this, I noticed that I kind of borrowed an idea from Kanashii. Sorry, Lady K! But it's too much a part of the story to remove.
Here it is, re-published.

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It was early evening in the Brazilian countryside and the atmosphere was hot and buzzing. The town parade, a yearly festival the entire region looked forward to, was tonight. The big farmstead of Cavalo Preto was already half in party swing even just getting ready; the women were already dressed up for the night and many of the men were ready too. Noise, talk, banter, music, the sounds of horses and the smell of them and their leather and of smoke, all blended into a loud and festive atmosphere.

One of the riders, Miguel, a boisterous larrikin and well known fellow of the region, aged nearly forty, was warming up a large black Friesian horse of striking appearance, trying to get him into a rhythmic trot-dance; the horse was side stepping and snorting and dancing at all of the noise. Many of the horses going in the parade later would be rearing and bucking and there would be much laughter as their riders tried to get them under control (or fell off!)

Some of the guys and a few younger women sat on the fence around the little paddock, watching and calling out advice and jeering at their friend.
"He should throw your butt back where it belongs" jeered one older teenager. This caused much laughter around the ring.
"Yeah, that would be fun," called out one young woman's voice, strong and derisive and not entirely joking. "It's not like that's real horse dancing, anyways. I've seen my six year old nephew do it better!"
"Saraya!" hissed another girl, trying to shush her.
Miguel laughed, a deep rich laugh and turned the big Friesian to face the young woman who had baited him. "Really?" he said, apparently unpreturbed. He reined the big black horse and with a touch of his spurs, made it rear in front of her.
Saraya tossed her long dark hair and glared at him. "You do not impress me! The younger kids perhaps, but not anyone with half a brain! I agree with the boy - the horse should throw your butt in the dirt!"
"Saraya, you should not have had wine, it has made you mad, you know his family could call in your daddy's debt...!" hissed the other girl next to her. But too late.
Miguel's eyes darkened in his swarthy face, then they lightened and he let out a hearty laugh. "Maybe you can get what you want in both ways," he said with a grin. "Want to get rid of your debt, little girl?"
Saraya's eyes flashed with anger at being called "little girl", she was fully eighteen and thought very highly of herself, and was very short-tempered and stubborn as well. And she loathed this man for being part of the gambling scam that had gotten her family into debt.
"I am just as much adult as you are, probably more, and would welcome any chance to get rid of this debt which my family should never have been subjected to in the first place," she hissed.
"If you could win free of the debt by seeing me get thrown in the dirt as you apparently wish, my lovely, would you?"
"And just how would that be possible?" Saraya said with a sneer.
"Honey, you get to throw me in this dirt yourself, right here and now!"

All of the males who were watching laughed.
Saraya did not. "Is that another joke? Or do you mean it? I throw you, you wipe out the debt? As simple as that?"
"I mean every word," said Miguel with a grin. "You get down on all fours and I sit on your back. If you can throw me, as I know you wish to, I shall wipe out the debt. Everyone here has heard my words, so I can't go back on it."
"Saraya, don't!" hissed the other girl next to her.
But Saraya wasn't listening, she was loyal to her family and this sounded easy. She was stronger than she looked, and she was not some dumb horse, it should be easy to throw this annoying man off her back and wipe clear a debt that her family should never have been subjected to. The two glasses of wine she'd had earlier lent fire to her blood as she nodded.
"Then I accept! I shall enjoy making a fool of you!"
Miguel's black eyes flashed with amusement and fire and he held out his hand. Solemnly the dark-haired girl shook it.

"What about if she loses, Uncle Miguel?" laughed a sixteen year old boy from elsewhere on the fence.
"I'll tell about that in a moment, but I won't add to the debt too much," Miguel said with a smile. "I am always magnanimous in victory. I certainly won't ask her to make love with me, it would be like making love with a viper!"
"As if I would ever accept such an outdated, abusive proposal!"  Saraya snapped in response.

Miguel laughed. "You're about to be a lot closer to me than you would like," he said. "Get down off that fence, horsie girl. Time for our little ride." He handed the reins of his horse to one of the other guys.
Saraya blushed, realising that she would indeed have to let this hated man ride on her back in front of everyone. That was embarrassing. But it was the only way. She tossed her dark hair and threw off her little jacket, leaving her in denim shorts and a fitted t-shirt, and jumped down from the fence.
"It will be fun to see you in the dirt," she spat and slithered down into an all fours position, waiting.

Miguel surveyed her. She was one of the most gorgeous girls in the region - if not for her constant viper tongue and misplaced superiority and complete lack of warmth or humour, which had kept the boys away from her. Her body was firm and lithe, slender where it mattered, but curvy and ripe in all the right areas, and her thighs and shoulders looked strong like a dancer's. She looked rather wonderful on all fours, her back had an inviting, natural downward arch which also made her firm behind look even lovelier and more round, and he smiled at the anticipation of riding her.
He swung his quirt through the empty air as he stood beside her, making her jump. Then he swung one foot over - realising he still had his spurs on, and amused at the thought - and sat carefully down astride her back.

Her back bent a little under him and he lifted his feet up straight away, letting her feel his full weight, enjoying the feeling of him pressing into her, so close, fitting into the curve of her back, his legs around her, somehow the feeling was very intimate. The onlookers were laughing and yelling out amusing advice, but his blood was suddenly pounding in his veins at just how good this felt.

He was a strong and fit man, not overweight but definitely not feather light at 175lbs, and he could tell she could really feel it and that it wasn't as easy as she had perhaps thought, her breathing quickening as she held his full weight. He made no move to make it easier, his feet off the floor and his knees around her, and he gave an experimental little bounce. Her back flexed and rebounded a little under him.

"Well little mare, now you get to try to throw me, and if you manage it, I wipe all the debts. If not, I get to ride you instead of my big Friesian in the parade, an' you still owe me..."
Even distracted by the tough job of carrying his weight, Saraya blushed beetroot red at the thought. It would be utterly humiliating, everyone in the streets would be laughing at her and cheering him, she'd be a total laughingstock. She had to throw him!!

He wound one hand tightly in her long black hair, tightened his knees and thighs around her ribs enough to make her gasp, then brought his quirt down on her shorts-clad buttocks with a loud whack. Saraya yelped and lurched upward in a half rear, pulled and goaded both at once. Miguel leaned forward and dug his spurs into her thighs, not hard enough to cause damage, but enough to make her gasp and propel herself forward!

Whoops and catcalls sounded from the onlookers as the girl started bucking and lurching under him, trying to throw him off her back!
She soon discovered that simply bucking her back up and down was just producing an energetic undulating movement, which was very easy to ride. He clamped his legs around her and the quirt came down again, and she span, trying to make her body do what she'd thought she would be able to do, trying to leap and turn and buck in circles like the rodeo broncs. But his weight hampered her far more than she'd thought and he moved with her, making it near impossible to throw him, even when he wobbled he managed to stay on and regain control. His spurs jabbed her again, once, twice, almost as if to taunt her. The onlookers laughed.

Desperate not to lose, breathless, humiliated and embarrassed, Saraya slowed down and tried to make her brain think rather than just blindly reacting. What else could she do??
She tried rearing over backwards; this was stymied by Miguel throwing his weight forward against her upper back and shoulders so that she fell back to all fours instead and nearly went down. Then she tried charging forward as fast as she could - a very fast crawl, she didn't even think to try cantering - and then she stopped suddenly and dropped the front half of her body.
This almost, ALMOST worked. The man's weight shot forward along her back... but he managed to stop himself coming off and hauled himself back into position astride her.
Saraya bucked half heartedly a few times more, then stood still, panting, totally out of breath, her limbs trembling after the wild exertion with the weight of a grown man on her back. It had only taken minutes but she had no energy left, her muscles burned and her body longed to have the weight gone.
Miguel sat upright astride her, used her hair to pull her head up and back, and raised his whip hand victoriously into the air, to the whoops and cheers of the onlookers.

A Chance Encounter Revisited Chp 2 by Paladin

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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.

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.

“Now try rocking slowly backwards and forwards,” I instructed.

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?”

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.

I leant forward, “how does that feel?”

“Fricken cold,” she laughed.

“Stay still,” I instructed her.

“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. 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.

“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.

“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.”

“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.

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.

I slid forward until my thighs framed her face. “Do you know what you have to do now?”

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. 

“Do you think I’ve ridden you properly now?” I asked.

She frowned, “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Umm because you’ve ridden me until I collapsed and then you sat on me and I had to kiss your thighs.”

“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.

“Why isn’t it the right answer?”

“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.

“What do I do?” she asked.

“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.

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.

She looked up at me and smiled, “I want to obey you,” she said. I felt fire rush along my nerves.

 “Why do you want to obey me?” I asked my voice growing hoarse with excitement.

“Because I want you to ride me. I want to be your pony girl.”

“What do you want me to be?”

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.”

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!”

A Chance Encounter Revisited, by Paladin (Chp 1)

A Chance Encounter Revisited Chp 1

“Are you here to surf or just to perv?”

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.

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.”

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.”

“Family types eh? Shouldn’t you be in a classroom somewhere?”

“Uni’s been out for a couple of weeks now,” she replied.

“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.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked with the kind of grin that let me know what she was assuming.

“Something very different from what you would be guessing.” I told her. “Nothing dangerous,” I added with a laugh. 

“Coke,” I offered her a can from my chilly bin. She looked it over carefully then sat down.

“Doesn’t look like it’s been tampered with so I doubt I’ll wake up in the boot of your station wagon.”

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.”

She smiled and took a long drink while I looked along the empty beach. “You don’t surf alone do you?”

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?”

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.”

“Boring,” she decided. “You must be able to have more fun than that?”

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.

“But what?” she raised a cheeky eyebrow.

“But my idea of fun requires a very specific type of personality.”

“I don’t get it,” she took another drink.

“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.”

She bit her lip and looked a little nervous. “I’m not sure if that’s me,” she said.

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.”

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.”

“Ponyplay.”

She frowned, obviously not sure what I meant.

“I enjoy riding women like they’re ponies.”

“You mean like on all fours?”

“Yes the girl is on all fours and I sit on their back and ride them.”

“Weird.” She glanced over her shoulder as if imagining me sitting on her back. “Why do you like that?”

“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.”

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.

“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.”

The surfer girl was watching me intently now, her can of coke forgotten.

“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.”

“So then she’s submitted to you,” she said.

“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.”

“What about the girl a couple of months ago?”

“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.

 “I’m not even sure if I could hold you’re weight,” she said a little hesitantly.

“Would you like to try? If it’s too hard you only have to say so and we’ll stop.”

“How do we start?” she asked.

“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.”

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.

“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.”

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.

“How does that feel?” I asked.

“Nowhere near as hard as I thought. Did I make a sound when you first sat on me?”

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?”

She responded by taking a few small steps forward then stopped. “How was that?’

“Pretty impressive actually. If you’re feeling brave lets try something a little harder?”

“Okay. Are you actually enjoying this?’

“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.

“Sorry I thought you wanted me to stop.”

“That’s okay. Lets try something else. How high can you arch your back?”

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. 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. 

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.

“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.

“This gets tiring pretty quickly doesn’t it?” She asked me.

I stayed sitting comfortably on her back.

“Am I still carrying you or are you riding me now?” She asked when I didn’t respond.

“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.”

“And I look great in a bikini,” she added.

“You do look great in a bikini,” I agreed. “But, no I’m not riding you yet. Do you want me to?”

She paused thinking about it.

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.

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!”

Hay-Barn Ponygirl - Story by Paladin

Hay-Barn Ponygirl

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.

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!”

I released her arms and smiled as she pouted. 

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.

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.

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. 

“Now that I’m pinned what are you going to do?” she asked with a naughty glint in her eyes.

I slowly began unbuttoning the rest of her shirt. I quickly realised that she had a cute baby-doll t-shirt on underneath.

“Guess you’re going to have to try and pin me again aren’t you?” she laughed.

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. 

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.

“Hey!” She protested, “you haven’t pinned me yet.”

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.

“Two,” and Sasha bucked again.

“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.

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. 

“Enjoy that?” Sasha asked with a big grin.

“Almost as much as I’ll enjoy that top of yours coming off.”

She laughed, “and what will you do then?”

I leant back against her thighs as if considering.

“I suppose I could give you a little pony ride,” Sasha suggested. “Just a short one though.”

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. 

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.

“Do you want your pony ride now?” Sasha suggested.

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.

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.

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.

“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.

“Right little pony it’s obviously time to break you in and show you whose the Master here.”

“I’m only giving you a short ride,” Sasha protested.

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.

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.

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. 

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.

“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.

“What now?” Sasha groaned. “This was just supposed to be a short ride.”

“Well you know how to shorten it,” I told her.

“Okay I submit you’re the best.”

I didn’t get off, “Say I’m the best wrestler”

“Yes you’re the best wrestler,” she answered.

“And you’re my slave.”

“What, no way.”

I swiped her butt with the crop.

“I’m your slave,” she wailed, “now can you please get off?”

“Now can you please get off what?”

“Now can you please get off Master.” She quickly replied.

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. 

“I gave you a good ride Master,” she said.

“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?”

“No Master,” Sasha whispered.

“Time to show me how well you can submit,” I told her. “You can start by licking and kissing.”

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.

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. 

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.

Sasha’s lips and mouth closed around me and I felt her tongue move like a wave against me. 

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.”

I heard a muffled squeak but her head moved more quickly and my breathing responded. I tugged on her hair, “whoa girl, slow now.” 

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.  

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. 

“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.

The world seemed to go white. The physical pleasure mixed with the exquisite pleasure of dominating Sasha combined.

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. 

Now that pony,” I told her, “was a great short ride.”