*****
The following appeared in the Agony Aunt column of the July edition of the magazine Gurlz’N’Boyz:
Dear Auntie Audrey,
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!
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?
Yours puzzled
Izzi
~
Dear Izzi,
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.
Do keep in touch, dearie, and tell me how you get on
Luv
Auntie Audrey.
*****
The following appeared in the Agony Aunt Column of the September edition of the Magazine “Gurlz’N’Boyz:
Dear Auntie Audrey,
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.
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!
So thanks for your advice!
Izzi
~
Dear Izzi
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!
Luv
Auntie Audrey
*****
The following appeared in the Agony Aunt column of the November edition of “Gurlz’N’Boyz”
Dear Auntie Audrey
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!
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.
Best Wishes
Izzi
~
Dear Izzi
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!
Luv
Auntie Audrey
*****
The following appeared in the “Gurlz seeking Boyz” column of the December edition of “Gurlz’N’Boyz”
“Wild rodeo gurl seeks cowboy to tame her”
*****
Sunday, 22 February 2015
Saturday, 20 December 2014
Story: "Yasmin's Point Of View" by Paladin
Hello, all. Paladin has written another story, this one is like a sequel to Saraya's Bet, but it is from Yasmin's view. Enjoy,.. and again, sorry it took so long to get back to post it here.
**********
Yasmin could hear the
sounds of the festival beginning. Soon the music, the crowds and the
dancing horses would fill the streets, moving through the township
until everyone reached the market plaza in the centre.
She could hardly
believe a year had passed since the last festival. There had been
times when Yasmin had wondered if that night had really happened. Her
rival had dared to challenge one of the local champions and Miguel
had made her pay firstly by riding her on all fours in a corral and
then when she’d failed to throw him Saraya had to carry him during
the festival in the place of his horse.
Yasmin remembered her
mixture of surprise and delight at the sight of Saraya on all fours
with the weight of a man bending her proud back. She’d cheered when
Miguel had plied his quirt to the arrogant girl’s backside. Yasmin
had been surprised as anyone though when Saraya had continued to
struggle and she’d seen Miguel waver when considering riding Saraya
further which is why she’d not only suggested he saddle her up but
had gone along with the men to make sure it happened.
It had been so
difficult not to laugh continuously at the sight of the oh so proud
Saraya with a horses’ bit between her teeth and stirrups hanging
across her back. Yasmin had to give Saraya some credit for how well
and long she’d carried Miguel for though. Yasmin flushed
remembering the man’s weight on her own back. The pressure forcing
her forward while the reins in his strong hands pulled her head back.
The way he’d controlled her with the strength of his legs and the
sting of the quirt on her own behind.
That had all been
Saraya’s fault! The little witch had slipped Miguel’s grasp and
attacked her in front of everyone. Yasmin was certain she could have
beaten Saraya in a fair fight but the other girl had been astride her
back before she’d had a chance. Miguel had sided with Saraya then
but Yasmin wasn’t surprised. Why would he have given up the chance
to another attractive girl underneath him. She’d felt how excited
he was from the moment his weight had settled firmly on her back. At
first she’d resented it all. Hated the thought that Saraya was
laughing at her, hated that all her friends saw her in such a
humiliating position, hated that the man sitting on her back like
some king was loving every moment.
Yasmin had quickly
found that Miguel could control her as easily as he had Saraya. She’d
realised then that fighting him was playing into her opponent’s
hands. Yasmin had decided that it was no different from taking a guy
she wanted off another girl... It all came down to who was willing to
use everything she had to get what she wanted. Yasmin smiled at the
memory. She’d thrown all she had into performing for the crowd and
driving Miguel wild. Saraya on the other hand had tried to maintain
control of the situation and her dignity. Yasmin chuckled, Saraya’s
dignity hadn’t saved her from being voted the looser by the crowd.
Yasmin had been
desperate to defeat her rival and had thought the moment the crowd
had cheered her name would have been the best feeling imaginable.
She’d been wrong. In fact that moment was easily eclipsed by the
rush of primal power she’d felt when Saraya’s resistance had
crumbled and the girl had submitted under her.
Yasmin had felt
Saraya’s submission in every fibre of her body. The flood of
adrenaline that had raced through her while the other girl had bucked
and fought peaked when the fight ended and Saraya had obeyed her
twitch of the reins and leg pressure. Yasmin had always dominated the
other girls in the town with the force of her personality but this
power over another girl, especially over a snob like Saraya, was
unequalled. No wonder Miguel had felt so excited when he’d ridden
on her back.
Some had probably
thought Yasmin would let her defeated opponent go once she’d won
and Yasmin had considered it before mounting the girl but as she’d
ridden Saraya in the festival; the cheers of the crowd, the delicious
feeling of Saraya’s back under her and the soft moans from her
mount had driven that thought well and truly from her mind.
Yasmin had made her
pony dance, trot and perform intricate dressage movements. All the
while enjoying the physical sensation of being mounted on Saraya’s
back and having the leather reins in her hands controlling the other
girls every movement. By the time they’d reached the plaza and
completed a lap of honour Saraya was trembling under her but more
importantly to Yasmin, Saraya was totally obedient.
To show the crowd who
was the better girl and who was the obedient pony-girl, Yasmin had
ridden the lap of honour without holding the reins. At the last she’d
stood up in the stirrups with her fists up in the air.
The whole ride had been
captured by her friends on their phones and all she needed to do to
recapture the moment was to hit play on the smartphone in her bag.
Tonight though wasn’t the time to revisit that victory.
Yasmin took the time to
make sure she was ready for tonight’s celebration. She wore
polished black, boots that came up to her knees and dark, skin-tight
leggings that showed all the right curves. A lightweight, white
cotton shirt tied up just below her breasts allowed the curve of her
back and the lean muscles in her stomach to be seen. The single
button allowed a generous view of her curves and neckline. She had
kept her long hair back in a ponytail so that nothing would obscure
the lines of her athletic body. Pins secured a glittering tiara that
rested just above her brow. Princess of the Festival, Yasmin loved
the title and the privileges that had gone with it. It amused her that the riding dancing game on the streets that night had started a 'princess' title. Hers.
Also in the room,
taking time to ensure nothing was out of place were two girls a year
younger than her who hoped to take her title. Yasmin sneered, none of
them deserved to be Festival Princess.
“Are you ready
Princess?”
Yasmin turned and
critically ran her eye over Miguel’s outfit. She had been very
specific about what he was to wear so that nothing would detract from
her. She nodded her approval of his clothing and to show she was
ready. Yasmin stretched enjoying the admiring glances she received
from the men in the room and the envy in the eyes of the girls.
Yasmin bent at the
waist and took hold of the dancer’s rail set before the mirror. She
watched intently as Miguel produced an elaborately tooled belt and
cinched it tightly around her hips. The belt flared in the middle
covering the small of her back but not detracting in anyway from her
toned waist. The other girls were quickly copying her.
Miguel then attached
matching stirrups to the belt and placed a delicate bit and bridle
over her head, careful not to touch a hair on her head. He drew the
reins over her head and with a smile he could not hide he mounted
Yasmin. He felt the girl adjusting her stance, moving until she felt
he was perfectly seated on her back. He drew the reins up and guided
her out of the room. The other girls similarly mounted followed. The
young men seated on them showing a mixture of nerves and excitement.
Yasmin looked across at
her opponents and measured each one. Soon they would enter the
festival. Soon each girl would experience fully the weight and
control of a rider on their backs. The blond would not look her way
and Yasmin doubted she would last. The second girl glared back at
her. Yasmin smiled, ‘that one’ she thought. When the crowd had
once again declared her the winner and Princess of the Festival she
would ride the dark haired challenger like she’d ridden the
arrogant Saraya. The excitement was already building in her.
Miguel’s
quirt lightly grazed her behind urging her forward but it was
unnecessary. Yasmin gave a playful toss of her head and began to
dance.
Story: "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.
Hope you enjoy M's story, and sorry it took so long to get back here to post it,
*************
Hope you enjoy M's story, and sorry it took so long to get back here to post it,
*************
PART 1
What just
happened????
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…………..
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.
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
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!"
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.
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!!
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
I heard a voice say
You better hold on!!!!
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………….
What happened?!?!?!?
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?!?!?
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………………..
TO BE CONTINUED!
Friday, 6 June 2014
Short story
"Bend your back, down, relax it."
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.
"Stay there," he said.
He stepped up on a part of the gym bench. And swung astride her back. Naked.
She braced to hold him. Her little muscles trembled at the start. She wasn't nearly his size.
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.
"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."
He was rewarded with a little shiver.
"Lift your arms up and put your hands on the bar there."
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.
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.
"Arch up."
She strained, and arched her back up with his full weight astride it,
"Arch down."
She arched it down again.
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.
"Giddy up!"
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.
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.
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 she who had caused this big man to feel so crazy with want and desire, that she 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!
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.
Ohh, yeah... 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.
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.
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.
"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.
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.
He drove his hips against her little back as climax overtook him. Groaning.
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.
He laughed. "Poor pony," he said, and kissed her on her sweaty head. "I rode you too hard."
THE END
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.
"Stay there," he said.
He stepped up on a part of the gym bench. And swung astride her back. Naked.
She braced to hold him. Her little muscles trembled at the start. She wasn't nearly his size.
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.
"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."
He was rewarded with a little shiver.
"Lift your arms up and put your hands on the bar there."
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.
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.
"Arch up."
She strained, and arched her back up with his full weight astride it,
"Arch down."
She arched it down again.
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.
"Giddy up!"
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.
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.
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 she who had caused this big man to feel so crazy with want and desire, that she 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!
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.
Ohh, yeah... 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.
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.
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.
"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.
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.
He drove his hips against her little back as climax overtook him. Groaning.
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.
He laughed. "Poor pony," he said, and kissed her on her sweaty head. "I rode you too hard."
THE END
Saraya's Bet Final
NOTE: Part 5 has been edited and should be read again before reading this part!
Tired, angry and humiliated, Saraya had no choice but to do her best. She couldn't bear the thought of losing.
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.
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.
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 not!
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.
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...
...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.
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.
Had she done enough?? Had she outlasted Yasmin? She had a sinking feeling...
She heard Yasmin's voice over the others, light, challenging and mocking. "So which pony was the best? Me, or her?"
"You were!" "Yasmin!" The calls were almost unanimous.
"Woo hooo!" Yasmin punched her hand in the air in a show of victory.
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!"
"A bet's a bet," said Miguel, and there was laughter in his voice. "The crowd has spoken!"
"Now she gets to ride you," taunted someone.
"No way...!"
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.
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.
Yasmin came up in front of her face. Mockingly she patted Saraya's sweaty 'mane', making the other girl glare mutely at her.
"You'd better be a good pony for me," she said."None of that nonsense you gave poor Miugel!"
There was more laughter from around them. Tired though she was Saraya swore through the bit at Yasmin.
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.
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.
"Giddy up, Horsey!" She kicked her 'pony' on, heels against upper thighs, almost mockingly.
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.
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.
"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.
"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.
Tired, angry and humiliated, Saraya had no choice but to do her best. She couldn't bear the thought of losing.
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.
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.
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 not!
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.
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...
...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.
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.
Had she done enough?? Had she outlasted Yasmin? She had a sinking feeling...
She heard Yasmin's voice over the others, light, challenging and mocking. "So which pony was the best? Me, or her?"
"You were!" "Yasmin!" The calls were almost unanimous.
"Woo hooo!" Yasmin punched her hand in the air in a show of victory.
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!"
"A bet's a bet," said Miguel, and there was laughter in his voice. "The crowd has spoken!"
"Now she gets to ride you," taunted someone.
"No way...!"
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.
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.
Yasmin came up in front of her face. Mockingly she patted Saraya's sweaty 'mane', making the other girl glare mutely at her.
"You'd better be a good pony for me," she said."None of that nonsense you gave poor Miugel!"
There was more laughter from around them. Tired though she was Saraya swore through the bit at Yasmin.
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.
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.
"Giddy up, Horsey!" She kicked her 'pony' on, heels against upper thighs, almost mockingly.
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.
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.
"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.
"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.
* * *
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.
Her family's debt, however, vanished after that night....
Tuesday, 21 January 2014
Saraya's Bet Part 5 (second last part)
Saraya watched as Yasmin now tried to do what she herself had done.
"You look so silly," she giggled, but no one heard her over the noise and music. It didn't matter.
Yasmin was stronger than Saraya had thought the party-girl would be. She wasn't yet faltering under her rider. But she couldn't do the dance! She just sort of stepped in clumsy rhythm, staring about her at the crowd that was staring at her, and squealed through the bit as Miguel 'encouraged' her on. He had a handful of blond-highlighted hair as well as the reins, and Saraya heard the quirt come down, more than once. She grinned. Now Yasmin was feeling the sting. Good! Serve her right!
"Come on pony! Dance now!" Saraya yelled tauntingly at Yasmin. Yasmin heard, and glared at her. And then suddenly her rival had all the motivation she needed. The girl had made up her mind.
It looked like it took every bit of energy and strength Yasmin had, but finally the girl started doing a tentative, shuffle jog, similar to her rival's, a little soft bounce to each step.
"Ha! Another dancing pony!" and similar cat calls came from the onlookers.
Yasmin's face started to become a mask of focus. It was as if she was now ignoring everything and everyone else. She danced in rhythm under her rider, clumsily still, but obviously trying very hard. She put everything she had into it. She held Miguel's legs tightly, almost passionately, as if clasping him even tighter astride her body. She even tried to make her steps graceful.
To Saraya's mounting nerves, Yasmin stayed in the zone far longer than she had thought the party-girl ever could. And when Yasmin's strength began to wane, rather than stopping, she put both feet on the floor and began to rock and grind her torso and backside back and forth under her rider, back and forth, up and down, in a very raunchy, erotic, un-pony-like motion, rather more like one of 'those' music clips. And Miguel, damn him, didn't chide her for this break in rules at all!! In fact he seemed to be laughing and enjoying himself.
And as Yasmin began to finally falter even in that, Miguel took back the control and drove her onward, the sharp little sting of the quirt bringing her back into the little dance several times.
Finally Yasmin's adrenaline ran out. She didn't just stumble, she collapsed. Miguel slid backward so that he didn't fall on top and injure her, even though he had an odd desire to ride her to the ground as she went down.
He helped Yasmin up, and very visibly made sure she was OK. Saraya glared... now Yasmin had him being properly nice to her? Just with a little bit of flashy behaviour? Oh, she loathed them both!
Miguel led the still bridled Yasmin over to her and escorted them to a fence. Yasmin pretended to whinny and prance beside her 'rider'.
Saraya laughed at her rival. "Look at yourself!" she said, wanting to embarrass her. But Yasmin just smiled through her bit, very sure of herself and not nearly as embarrassed by her little horsey roleplay as Saraya had hoped!
"That was very good, Pony Two," Miguel praised Yasmin as he removed the 'tack' from her. "Such sweet, passionate dancing! I wonder if Pony One can beat it?" He gave Yasmin a friendly smack on the backside. Yasmin squealed, but there was laughter in it.
Saraya said nothing, just giving her iciest look to them both. Inwardly, she was hoping that she could indeed do as well. She already had, it was true... but to win the stupid bet she had now made, she had to best Yasmin's effort. She felt so dumb for getting herself into such a very silly bet... at being the best horse!!
And she was worried. Her muscles were already tired. She believed herself stronger than Yasmin, but could she still beat her, having done so much 'pony' work already?
"You'd better do your best dancing, little pony," Yasmin now teased her sweetly. Of all things, she was now helping Miguel put the stupid bridle and 'half saddle' on Saraya. She did not like that at all. She must defeat Yasmin!
"Such a sweet, cute little pony she is," she laughed, and smiled at Miguel.
"Yes, she is," he agreed as he did the 'girth' up tightly. "Let's ride!"
Saraya, blushing, had to assume the position once more. Miguel swung up onto her back, and she braced her tired muscles grimly. He felt heavier than he had before. But she HAD to win. Had to!
Steeling herself, Saraya let go of the fence at the command of her rider - obeying him without even thinking, now - and tottered carefully back into the parade.
"You look so silly," she giggled, but no one heard her over the noise and music. It didn't matter.
Yasmin was stronger than Saraya had thought the party-girl would be. She wasn't yet faltering under her rider. But she couldn't do the dance! She just sort of stepped in clumsy rhythm, staring about her at the crowd that was staring at her, and squealed through the bit as Miguel 'encouraged' her on. He had a handful of blond-highlighted hair as well as the reins, and Saraya heard the quirt come down, more than once. She grinned. Now Yasmin was feeling the sting. Good! Serve her right!
"Come on pony! Dance now!" Saraya yelled tauntingly at Yasmin. Yasmin heard, and glared at her. And then suddenly her rival had all the motivation she needed. The girl had made up her mind.
It looked like it took every bit of energy and strength Yasmin had, but finally the girl started doing a tentative, shuffle jog, similar to her rival's, a little soft bounce to each step.
"Ha! Another dancing pony!" and similar cat calls came from the onlookers.
Yasmin's face started to become a mask of focus. It was as if she was now ignoring everything and everyone else. She danced in rhythm under her rider, clumsily still, but obviously trying very hard. She put everything she had into it. She held Miguel's legs tightly, almost passionately, as if clasping him even tighter astride her body. She even tried to make her steps graceful.
To Saraya's mounting nerves, Yasmin stayed in the zone far longer than she had thought the party-girl ever could. And when Yasmin's strength began to wane, rather than stopping, she put both feet on the floor and began to rock and grind her torso and backside back and forth under her rider, back and forth, up and down, in a very raunchy, erotic, un-pony-like motion, rather more like one of 'those' music clips. And Miguel, damn him, didn't chide her for this break in rules at all!! In fact he seemed to be laughing and enjoying himself.
And as Yasmin began to finally falter even in that, Miguel took back the control and drove her onward, the sharp little sting of the quirt bringing her back into the little dance several times.
Finally Yasmin's adrenaline ran out. She didn't just stumble, she collapsed. Miguel slid backward so that he didn't fall on top and injure her, even though he had an odd desire to ride her to the ground as she went down.
He helped Yasmin up, and very visibly made sure she was OK. Saraya glared... now Yasmin had him being properly nice to her? Just with a little bit of flashy behaviour? Oh, she loathed them both!
Miguel led the still bridled Yasmin over to her and escorted them to a fence. Yasmin pretended to whinny and prance beside her 'rider'.
Saraya laughed at her rival. "Look at yourself!" she said, wanting to embarrass her. But Yasmin just smiled through her bit, very sure of herself and not nearly as embarrassed by her little horsey roleplay as Saraya had hoped!
"That was very good, Pony Two," Miguel praised Yasmin as he removed the 'tack' from her. "Such sweet, passionate dancing! I wonder if Pony One can beat it?" He gave Yasmin a friendly smack on the backside. Yasmin squealed, but there was laughter in it.
Saraya said nothing, just giving her iciest look to them both. Inwardly, she was hoping that she could indeed do as well. She already had, it was true... but to win the stupid bet she had now made, she had to best Yasmin's effort. She felt so dumb for getting herself into such a very silly bet... at being the best horse!!
And she was worried. Her muscles were already tired. She believed herself stronger than Yasmin, but could she still beat her, having done so much 'pony' work already?
"You'd better do your best dancing, little pony," Yasmin now teased her sweetly. Of all things, she was now helping Miguel put the stupid bridle and 'half saddle' on Saraya. She did not like that at all. She must defeat Yasmin!
"Such a sweet, cute little pony she is," she laughed, and smiled at Miguel.
"Yes, she is," he agreed as he did the 'girth' up tightly. "Let's ride!"
Saraya, blushing, had to assume the position once more. Miguel swung up onto her back, and she braced her tired muscles grimly. He felt heavier than he had before. But she HAD to win. Had to!
Steeling herself, Saraya let go of the fence at the command of her rider - obeying him without even thinking, now - and tottered carefully back into the parade.
Thursday, 9 January 2014
Jason's Wheels - Part 1
This is a short story inspired by a picture on the German site Ridingboard.com, posted by a Mistress called Diana. I'd feel guilty, except that I am not using the photo, just completely and utterly stealing the idea LOL. It is also inspired by Tonypony as he is a ponyboy who sometimes switches roles, and by someone else who apparently loves the "donkey style" ride but would like the girl to actually move forward... It is not actually a femdom tale, though it begins like one, and the girl in this is not really all that submissive...
But I digress! On with the action.
**********
Jason walked through the beautiful Czech landscape. Idyllic, it was, peaceful even, all lush grass and deep forests, with lovely old barns and stables and a manor house in the middle of it all.
The peace was broken by the harsh crack of a whip and the sound of a man trying to contain his cry of pain. Jason shook his head ruefully. Only yesterday, that had been him, being ridden in sweet torment by one of the harshest Mistresses who frequented this mini-kingdom, or perhaps rather "queendom", in the countryside of the Czech Republic.
Jason - like all the other men who came here from all over Europe, Britain and elsewhere - was here of his own free will, and had paid a hefty sum of money for his stay. He had a love of being dominated by women, his particular fetish being ridden by a Mistress. During his week here, his fantasies and his limits had been met and even exceeded just a little by the experienced and sometimes merciless Ladies that owned this place. It had been paradise to him. A little bit full-on sometimes, but paradise nonetheless. He had been ridden more than he could ever have dreamed, and before coming here he had dreamed a lot. He had managed to please the two Mistresses who had had the use and training of him.
Just occasionally, very occasionally, he wished that he could switch roles and feel what it would like to ride one of these very sexy ladies instead, feeling her between his own legs as he playfully dominated her and rode her around a room for a little while. Having been ridden himself so much this week, having become much more comfortable with the Ladies who had dominated and ridden him so much, he had almost dared to ask one of them if he could try it, just for a minute to see what it felt like. But he had held his tongue, as this was truly a Femdom-only establishment, and it was plenty satisfying to have the Mistresses ride him.
As he walked toward the big barn that held all the riding tack, ponyboy carts, and other things, he was surprised to see a dark-haired girl aged of university student age, in normal casual clothes, sauntering across the fields towards the same barn. If she was a Mistress, she certainly was not dressed like it. In this erotic mini-world where all the women dressed in leather, riding gear, lace and PVC, this civilian girl looked totally out of place.
He followed her towards the barn. As they both neared the barn door, she turned and saw him.
"Oh, hey," she said in an Irish accent. "You'll be one of the ponyboys then."
"Um, yeah," Jason responded, unsure of how to act with this girl, was he required to speak to her as he would a Mistress or not?? "And... um, you are?"
"Oh, I'm Vanessa, I'm a leather-and metal-worker," she laughed at his discomfort. "Just a normal employee, neither a slave nor a Mistress. You can talk to me. You won't get in trouble unless you are rude or try to harm me."
"Did you say metal worker?" Jason said dubiously, the girl was not very tall despite looking fit and athletic in her tight fitting jeans, T-shirt and Converse shoes.
"Yes, I did," Vanessa said with a smile and a challenging look. They were in one of the tack-rooms now and she lifted a box full of metal stirrups and bridle-bits that looked to be very heavy with seemingly effortless ease and good lifting technique, carrying it over onto a large desk before beginning to sort the items.
"You are strong," Jason said admiringly, then kicked himself for stating the obvious.
But she seemed pleased by his compliment. "Thanks," she said with a wide smile. "So anyway... what are you here for?"
"I have to pick up an, um... set of wheels," Jason said. "I don't have to deliver it for an hour yet, but I got bored sitting around inside during my free time. I'm not actually sure what Mistress Ana meant."
"Ahh," said Vanessa. "I know what you mean, in fact I helped to make it. Can I show you?"
"Sure," Jason said and followed her to the cart section of the barn.
"What's your name, by the way?" she asked.
"I'm Jason, but all of the women here just call me slave," he said with a smile, making her laugh. She had a soft, pretty laugh. It was something of a relief after nearly a week of pure domination to speak normally to a woman again, even though he had loved his time here so far.
They walked past several small carts and chariots, till they stood in front of an odd three-wheeled contraption, two big wheels side by side with a strong bar set between them, another bar above that a little above his hip height, and one very small wheel in front. There were a few small straps and other bits on it, but the main design seemed fairly simple.
"Here is my baby," said Vanessa, stroking one of the big wheels. "The best push-buggy design we've seen here yet. A ponyboy and I made it together."
Jason realised what it was for. "I'm to push it while my Mistress rides me?"
"That's right," Vanessa chuckled, smiling at him sideways as she looked the contraption over. She moved in front of him, between the wheels, and looked back at him with what almost looked like a cheeky look to him, although she could have been just making sure he was paying attention.
She bent over and placed her hands on the higher bar, the one that was closer to hip height. "Like this," she said, rolling the contraption forward a few inches, then backward again.
Jason's mouth went dry. She looked rather nice bent over like that, her shoulders not quite a foot higher than her hips, her back arched in a soft "U" shape and her pert bottom sticking out. She turned and looked back at him again with her cute smile, and it seemed as if she was almost inviting him to ride her.
"Have, um. Have you ever tested it yourself?"
Vanessa stood upright once more. "Yes, I was the first rider, actually," she said. "and I've also pushed it myself. It was fun, you can go really fast, but it's boring to push it on your own."
She looked at Jason with a sideways glance again. Was she actually inviting him to ask her, or was he just misinterpreting signals that were not there??
"Do you think you are strong enough to carry a guy while pushing this thing?" He was careful to make the question sound light, but nerves made him clear his throat at the end of the question.
"Of course I am," she said as if he was being silly even asking that. Then she turned towards him, her eyes merry. "Why? Would you like to give it a go?"
She knows, Jason thought, I think she knows I want to try riding. And it seemed almost as if she wanted it too. This aroused him, the idea that this girl wanted to try it with him. Having seen her bent over with her hands on the wheeled thing, he knew his legs would hang down on either side as he sat astride her.
"Can I put stirrup straps on you?" he asked, keeping his tone playful. "I wouldn't want to go sliding off backwards as you pick up speed."
Vanessa laughed. "Sure!" she said. "But that's all, mind. No hard stuff."
She directed Jason to push the 'buggy' out into the field as she busied herself with finding the stirrups. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he heard Vanessa chuckle to herself, but she sounded like she was still enjoying herself.
She emerged from the barn wearing just her crop top, her jeans and shoes, and a strap around her lower waist from which a pair of stirrups dangled, banging softly against her legs as she walked. She blushed a little as she saw him staring at the stirrups and her bra.
"I hope I won't regret this," she laughed ruefully in her sweet Irish accent, then boldly walked right up to Jason and the push-buggy and bent at the waist, placing her hands into position and holding the bar as she leaned on it, her bare back curved in a soft "U" like a natural saddle for him to ride, her strong shoulders seemed just the right amount higher than her hips. She looked back at him invitingly once more. Confidently.
Jason surveyed her for a moment, and decided to lengthen the short stirrup-leathers so his legs would be more comfortable. Then he placed one foot in a stirrup, holding tight to her back, and swung himself up into the "saddle".
She faltered a little as his weight pressed on that one stirrup, but righted herself as he sat astride her back. This felt wonderful, feeling her body warm and breathing and bracing under him and between his legs, her back curving under his groin; and when both his feet were secure in the wide Western-style stirrups, and his hands gripping her dark "mane" like reins, he felt a little thrill of power and control over his girl-horse.
"Are you OK down there?" he asked.
"Yes, I'm fine," she said, a little breathlessly. "You are heavy, but not too bad..."
"OK then... Giddy up, pony!" Jason said and kicked his heels against her thighs as if she really was a horse. She laughed and started walking, pushing the 'buggy' in front of her.
*************
But I digress! On with the action.
**********
Jason walked through the beautiful Czech landscape. Idyllic, it was, peaceful even, all lush grass and deep forests, with lovely old barns and stables and a manor house in the middle of it all.
The peace was broken by the harsh crack of a whip and the sound of a man trying to contain his cry of pain. Jason shook his head ruefully. Only yesterday, that had been him, being ridden in sweet torment by one of the harshest Mistresses who frequented this mini-kingdom, or perhaps rather "queendom", in the countryside of the Czech Republic.
Jason - like all the other men who came here from all over Europe, Britain and elsewhere - was here of his own free will, and had paid a hefty sum of money for his stay. He had a love of being dominated by women, his particular fetish being ridden by a Mistress. During his week here, his fantasies and his limits had been met and even exceeded just a little by the experienced and sometimes merciless Ladies that owned this place. It had been paradise to him. A little bit full-on sometimes, but paradise nonetheless. He had been ridden more than he could ever have dreamed, and before coming here he had dreamed a lot. He had managed to please the two Mistresses who had had the use and training of him.
Just occasionally, very occasionally, he wished that he could switch roles and feel what it would like to ride one of these very sexy ladies instead, feeling her between his own legs as he playfully dominated her and rode her around a room for a little while. Having been ridden himself so much this week, having become much more comfortable with the Ladies who had dominated and ridden him so much, he had almost dared to ask one of them if he could try it, just for a minute to see what it felt like. But he had held his tongue, as this was truly a Femdom-only establishment, and it was plenty satisfying to have the Mistresses ride him.
As he walked toward the big barn that held all the riding tack, ponyboy carts, and other things, he was surprised to see a dark-haired girl aged of university student age, in normal casual clothes, sauntering across the fields towards the same barn. If she was a Mistress, she certainly was not dressed like it. In this erotic mini-world where all the women dressed in leather, riding gear, lace and PVC, this civilian girl looked totally out of place.
He followed her towards the barn. As they both neared the barn door, she turned and saw him.
"Oh, hey," she said in an Irish accent. "You'll be one of the ponyboys then."
"Um, yeah," Jason responded, unsure of how to act with this girl, was he required to speak to her as he would a Mistress or not?? "And... um, you are?"
"Oh, I'm Vanessa, I'm a leather-and metal-worker," she laughed at his discomfort. "Just a normal employee, neither a slave nor a Mistress. You can talk to me. You won't get in trouble unless you are rude or try to harm me."
"Did you say metal worker?" Jason said dubiously, the girl was not very tall despite looking fit and athletic in her tight fitting jeans, T-shirt and Converse shoes.
"Yes, I did," Vanessa said with a smile and a challenging look. They were in one of the tack-rooms now and she lifted a box full of metal stirrups and bridle-bits that looked to be very heavy with seemingly effortless ease and good lifting technique, carrying it over onto a large desk before beginning to sort the items.
"You are strong," Jason said admiringly, then kicked himself for stating the obvious.
But she seemed pleased by his compliment. "Thanks," she said with a wide smile. "So anyway... what are you here for?"
"I have to pick up an, um... set of wheels," Jason said. "I don't have to deliver it for an hour yet, but I got bored sitting around inside during my free time. I'm not actually sure what Mistress Ana meant."
"Ahh," said Vanessa. "I know what you mean, in fact I helped to make it. Can I show you?"
"Sure," Jason said and followed her to the cart section of the barn.
"What's your name, by the way?" she asked.
"I'm Jason, but all of the women here just call me slave," he said with a smile, making her laugh. She had a soft, pretty laugh. It was something of a relief after nearly a week of pure domination to speak normally to a woman again, even though he had loved his time here so far.
They walked past several small carts and chariots, till they stood in front of an odd three-wheeled contraption, two big wheels side by side with a strong bar set between them, another bar above that a little above his hip height, and one very small wheel in front. There were a few small straps and other bits on it, but the main design seemed fairly simple.
"Here is my baby," said Vanessa, stroking one of the big wheels. "The best push-buggy design we've seen here yet. A ponyboy and I made it together."
Jason realised what it was for. "I'm to push it while my Mistress rides me?"
"That's right," Vanessa chuckled, smiling at him sideways as she looked the contraption over. She moved in front of him, between the wheels, and looked back at him with what almost looked like a cheeky look to him, although she could have been just making sure he was paying attention.
She bent over and placed her hands on the higher bar, the one that was closer to hip height. "Like this," she said, rolling the contraption forward a few inches, then backward again.
Jason's mouth went dry. She looked rather nice bent over like that, her shoulders not quite a foot higher than her hips, her back arched in a soft "U" shape and her pert bottom sticking out. She turned and looked back at him again with her cute smile, and it seemed as if she was almost inviting him to ride her.
"Have, um. Have you ever tested it yourself?"
Vanessa stood upright once more. "Yes, I was the first rider, actually," she said. "and I've also pushed it myself. It was fun, you can go really fast, but it's boring to push it on your own."
She looked at Jason with a sideways glance again. Was she actually inviting him to ask her, or was he just misinterpreting signals that were not there??
"Do you think you are strong enough to carry a guy while pushing this thing?" He was careful to make the question sound light, but nerves made him clear his throat at the end of the question.
"Of course I am," she said as if he was being silly even asking that. Then she turned towards him, her eyes merry. "Why? Would you like to give it a go?"
She knows, Jason thought, I think she knows I want to try riding. And it seemed almost as if she wanted it too. This aroused him, the idea that this girl wanted to try it with him. Having seen her bent over with her hands on the wheeled thing, he knew his legs would hang down on either side as he sat astride her.
"Can I put stirrup straps on you?" he asked, keeping his tone playful. "I wouldn't want to go sliding off backwards as you pick up speed."
Vanessa laughed. "Sure!" she said. "But that's all, mind. No hard stuff."
She directed Jason to push the 'buggy' out into the field as she busied herself with finding the stirrups. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he heard Vanessa chuckle to herself, but she sounded like she was still enjoying herself.
She emerged from the barn wearing just her crop top, her jeans and shoes, and a strap around her lower waist from which a pair of stirrups dangled, banging softly against her legs as she walked. She blushed a little as she saw him staring at the stirrups and her bra.
"I hope I won't regret this," she laughed ruefully in her sweet Irish accent, then boldly walked right up to Jason and the push-buggy and bent at the waist, placing her hands into position and holding the bar as she leaned on it, her bare back curved in a soft "U" like a natural saddle for him to ride, her strong shoulders seemed just the right amount higher than her hips. She looked back at him invitingly once more. Confidently.
Jason surveyed her for a moment, and decided to lengthen the short stirrup-leathers so his legs would be more comfortable. Then he placed one foot in a stirrup, holding tight to her back, and swung himself up into the "saddle".
She faltered a little as his weight pressed on that one stirrup, but righted herself as he sat astride her back. This felt wonderful, feeling her body warm and breathing and bracing under him and between his legs, her back curving under his groin; and when both his feet were secure in the wide Western-style stirrups, and his hands gripping her dark "mane" like reins, he felt a little thrill of power and control over his girl-horse.
"Are you OK down there?" he asked.
"Yes, I'm fine," she said, a little breathlessly. "You are heavy, but not too bad..."
"OK then... Giddy up, pony!" Jason said and kicked his heels against her thighs as if she really was a horse. She laughed and started walking, pushing the 'buggy' in front of her.
*************
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