by Sean O'Kane
“Move your feet back. Now hollow your back, Purdy. Good girl. Stick you arse out nicely.” He moulded her to his preferred stance and then stood back.
From behind she presented a fine sight. Her thighs were long and looked to have good muscle tone, her hips were wide and well rounded, the buttocks fleshy but firm and deep. Nestling just beneath them was the dusky lipped pouch of her vulva, Brian noted with pleased amusement that the lips were already slightly engorged and open. Her waist was trim and her back rose gracefully from it to the fairly broad shoulders. As she bent forwards, so her heavy breasts swung ripely beneath her chest. As he surveyed her she turned her head and gazed solemnly at him with her large brown eyes. Altogether she was a superb package, promising the full range of pleasures a gladiator was able to offer her master; endurance in the fight, endurance in dungeon sessions and ecstasy in every entrance to her body.
Brian moved forwards and unzipped his flies.
“You’re going to need lubricating, Purdy, so let’s get started!”
Her cunt was surprisingly tight so he could only assume that she had been uncooperative for some time and had succeeded in fending men off for maybe weeks or months even. And even as he slid himself in and out for a while until she was opened up and ready for him, his admiration for her increased. He just hoped that her bonding with him would see her through the undoubted thrashing that Josh Cordell would hand out.
But that worry faded slightly as he achieved smooth penetration and Perdita’s cunt caressed the hard shaft invading it. For a few moments he was content to watch her hump then hollow her back, swing and rotate her hips sensuously before he felt the pressure start to rise right at the root of his cock. Then he grabbed her hips roughly and began to lunge into her carelessly, seeking the neck of her womb. Perdita threw her head back as she shook under the onslaught and accepted her new master with high pitched moans and mews of delight as she felt him spurt thick, hot gobbets of sperm deep inside her.
After a few brief moments to savour the quality of the orgasm, Brian pulled clear of her and turned to the mound of tack at his feet. Bending down he selected first of all the studded breast straps, then he set about clipping her wrists together behind her back before he turned her and backed her up to the fence post and passed a hobble chain round it before fastening it to her ankles, thus preventing her from kicking. As he worked he was aware that she could see the shiny little spikes that lined the straps and they occasionally bumped against her skin but she kept quiet and docile. When Brian straightened up her eyes were even larger than normal but steady and clear. However, when he took her collar off and replaced it with the higher one that all the ponies wore and which was connected to the tit straps, she bit her lip as the straps themselves fell across the prominent and vulnerable hills of breastflesh and he could imagine the chill of the steel points hinting at the torments to come. Still she held herself calm and he was able to encircle her right breast first, just holding the tongue of the strap in the buckle, prior to tightening. Already he could feel the weight of the breast and she would be experiencing the first pricking from the studs underneath. Brian glanced up before he went for the one strong pull that was the only way to introduce a slave to studded tit straps. Give it to her full on and then let her adjust. Perdita was staring down at her breast and the thick leather strap, her eyes wide but unflinching.
“Steady, there girl. Hold steady now…..” he whispered, then bracing himself he yanked the strap through to the fourth hole and fed the spike of the buckle into it before tucking the tongue neatly into its loop. All was done in a fraction of a second, then he stood back. Perdita was on tiptoes, her face contorted into a grimace, her teeth bared, but no sound escaped her. Immediately he could see that she was going to make a splendid dressage pony. The breast responded perfectly to stringent bondage; swelling out fully from the constricted root but retaining much of its impressive size – unlike so many which became remarkably small when constricted.
He shushed and stroked her for a moment, running his hands down her quivering flanks and patting them gently until she calmed somewhat, then he moved to the left breast and repeated the dose. This time, although she made no move to try and kick, she couldn’t help letting out a low growl as the points bedded in but even then she refrained from any verbal protest. Brian was impressed by her restraint but now he turned his attention to her crotch. She watched warily, her cruelly gripped breasts rising and falling with her stressed breathing, as he unfolded the belt with its studded crotch strap, dildo and butt plug. First of all he merely fastened the belt around her waist, standing close to her and encircling her with his arms to fasten it. As he did so she rested her head briefly on his shoulder and wriggled against him sensuously, making throaty little purring noises as she did so.
“Steady Purdy!” he warned her. For a ponyslave to presume any acquaintance closer than that of animal to owner or trainer was unacceptable but Brian couldn’t help smiling above her bent head as he felt the swollen nubs of her nipples brush his shirt front. He reached down and gave one tit a warning squeeze before she earned herself any further punishment. As he crouched down in front of her and prepared to lube the plug, he was still smiling though. He was getting more and more confident that Perdita was going to repay Carlo’s confidence.
Brian held her labia, still slimy with his seeping spend, open while he pushed the butt plug into her vagina and soused it thoroughly in the warm swamp of the recently fucked passage. She made no move to either try and close her legs or demur in any way and Brian was able to slip it out then replace it with the dildo quite easily. Then he stood up and using the ring on the front of her collar he bent her forwards slightly before he reached down behind her and pulled the plug up until it was lined up with her anus. Twisting it back and forth and applying gradually increasing force, Brian watched as the sphincter muscles slowly surrendered to the blunt nosed, sperm-slicked implement. From somewhere down by his waist he heard Perdita give a strained grunt as she felt her passage stretched wider and wider. Briefly Brian wondered whether she was anally virgin. She would be a rare prize indeed if she was, he reflected but he put that to the back of his mind as he applied more pressure and screwed the widening cone deeper into her until at last the distended mouth of the anus reached the base of the plug and closed around the neck of the flange with a grateful kissing movement. He stood her up, her eyes watering considerably and leading her by her collar ring he urged her into a walk. In an ungainly waddle at first she allowed herself to be led in small circles and after a few minutes she seemed to realise that the discomfort of the studs reached a peak which was an almost pleasant counterpoint to the exciting shifting inside her as her body moved around the twin shafts impaling her. Her movements relaxed and her stride lengthened into the graceful gait that Brian had hoped a long-legged specimen like her would be capable of. Once that was accomplished it remained only to buckle on the bridle and bit. Again she was docile and well behaved as the bit was slipped into her mouth and she champed at it, accustoming herself to the harsh taste. Brian fed the bulk of her thick hair through the aperture between the straps at the back of the bridle and then buckled it fast at her nape, approving of how the ponytail hung, thick and lustrous, but not too far down the strong back. For driving around the park it was considered a bit too showy to fit real horsehair tails to the butt plugs, that was restricted to dressage events at gymkhanas or the occasional garden fairs The Lodge held. However, Brian felt, looking at her that Perdita would wear the green and gold CSL plumes on top of her bridle when she turned up for Josh Cordell. Leading her by her reins over to the trap and positioning her between the shafts he petted her again as he clipped her wrists to the shafts and then stood back once more. She kept her eyes lowered but held herself proudly erect and with shoulders back none the less. She was an enigma; rebellious – mutinous even – but now suddenly placid and displaying a knowledge of what was required from a pony slave that completely contradicted her previous behaviour. He reach
ed out and put his hand round one of her breasts, revelling in the feel of the smooth skin, tight and firm in its constriction. She tensed as she watched his fingers. Slowly he tightened his grip, sinking his fingers into the pillow of flesh and pushing it back against the spiteful ring that constricted it. Perdita daintily lifted one foot and stamped but made no noise until he did the same with her other breast and fetched a bit-distorted moan from her. Brian had no interest in knowing whether it was a moan of lust or pain – or both. What was important was that she made every effort not to interrupt whoever was enjoying her. Giving her a congratulatory smack on her rump he climbed aboard and picked up the driving whip from its clip.
“Walk on, Purdy,” he said and gave her the customary back and forth flicks across the shoulders. Immediately she took the strain and bending forwards began to pump her legs as she broke the trap free of the soft earth on which it was standing.
“Go on, girl! Put your back into it!” Brian encouraged, following up his words with stronger flicks of the whip as slowly the rig headed back to the path. Once there he smacked the lash down across each shoulder this time, hearing the cord smack home on the tightly held breasts. Perdita’s head reared back but she kept up her efforts and within a couple of paces her bare feet were getting better grip on the tarmac of the path. Once the wheels of the trap were on the path as well then with the whip as a stinging reminder of her master’s will, Perdita was soon up to a trot. Whether or not she had ever worn studded tack was still an unknown but she had certainly been run between the shafts of a trap before. Without having to be whipped to it, she lifted her knees high and kept her head high too, her neck arching prettily to show off her thick ponytail as it bounced on her back. She responded quickly to the slightest tug on the reins, turning her head just slightly to right or left as she was steered. But what delighted Brian most was that when he took her onto grass again and turned her sharply, she crossed her legs - right in front of left on a left turn and vice versa on a right turn - in the correct dressage manner in order to make the driver’s ride as smooth as possible.
There was only one cloud in the sky.
How would she respond to the level of whip she would undoubtedly get from Josh Cordell? Brian didn’t dare flog her too hard yet, she would need to start out relatively unscathed. All he could do was be as rough as he could, he wrenched the reins and made her head jerk round at each command to turn right or left. He delivered deft flicks of the whip around her hips, making the cord bite at her labia. Apart from flecks of saliva flying from her mouth as she tossed her head, she didn’t show any signs of distress or allow herself to be distracted from pulling as strongly as she could.
At last he steered her back to where Penelope was waiting, fidgeting at her hobble and champing on her bit irritably. It wasn’t often that a pony was tacked up, whipped and run hard then hobbled and ignored while another pony got all the attention.
“Whoa, Purdy! Good girl. Good pony!” Brian whispered as he stopped her and dismounted, stopping to stroke her hip and smack her rump affectionately as he made for Penelope, smiling.
“Feeling ignored are we, Penny?” he teased, stroking a hand down across her breasts, trailing it down across her stomach and then stopping it just above the junction of her long thighs. From behind her bit came a whmper and Brian felt her shiver with lust.
“But what sort of attention do you want, eh? Whip or fuck? Or both?” His hand stroked her thigh but moved around towards her buttock rather than towards her sex. As far as the hobble would allow, Penelope lifted a foot and stamped. Brian tut tutted.
“Well, it’ll have to be the whip for that! Afterwards we’ll see….”
He unclipped the hobble and unlooped her reins before clipping her wrists to the loop at the back of her collar. Instantly she turned away from him to offer her back and presented for the whip. She spread her legs wide and hollowed her back so that Brian had full access to her back, buttocks and shoulders but could also see her cunt.
Brian stood back and shook out the whip, then using proper overarm throws rather than flicks he lashed her, lacing her back with a ladder of pink ridges then making her buttocks quiver and ripple. After twenty or thirty satisfying strokes he was fully erect, his cock straining against his trousers as he moved. Penelope’s cunt was wide open, the pretty inner lips quivering as she adjusted her stance and shuffled her feet to help diffuse the pain of the whip. Brain moved in to free her wrists and place her hands against the trunk of the tree, her back still hollowed but now to present her cunt properly.
Brian glanced across to Perdita as he unzipped his flies again. Her eyes were wide but she gave no sign of envy or jealousy as she watched her newly won master prepare to fuck another slave in front of her. Progress indeed, Brian thought as he held Penelope’s labia wide open with the fingers of one hand and guided his cock home with the other. Fucking a freshly whipped female from the rear so that he could torment her welts with his fingers while he rammed into her, cramming every last inch of his shaft home as roughly as it pleased him to, was one of Brian’s chief delights and he erupted inside Penelope after only a few dozen thrusts. Had he not reached around her and ground his thumb hard against her clitoris she might not have climaxed in time but as it was, she gargled and spluttered behind her bit as he came inside her.
He pulled clear immediately and walked over to where Perdita still stood between the shafts of the trap. She didn’t need telling and as he approached she spread her legs and bent forwards so that her mouth was waiting for him as he reached her. He had only to unbuckle the bridle and slip it off then she began to lick assiduously, clearing him of the thick traces of his emission and the spicy outpourings of Penelope’s cunt. By the time she eagerly sucked the softening helm of his cock into her mouth, and began to tongue it, he felt himself begin to swell and harden again. He settled himself in preparation for the orgasm he knew was coming and to begin with he held Perdita’s shoulders as he began to rock his hips back and forwards, allowing her head to ride his thrusts. Having so recently come, it took her a further few minutes of hard work with her tongue to coax another orgasm from him but eventually he felt the pressure build beyond the point of no return and then he shifted his grip to either side of her head and held her steady while he mouth fucked her in earnest. Perdita made no move to protest but it was only the fact that he had recently spent himself inside Penelope that she was able to swallow fast enough to keep up with his climax when it finally came.
Brian lounged contentedly in the trap as Penelope trotted them home, her thighs glistening with the aftermath of her fuck. Behind them Perdita trotted, freed from her bridle and licking her lips appreciatively. He put Perdita back in her stall before whipping Penelope back into the yard and turning her over to the grooms. Then he went in search of whoever was running the book on the forthcoming wager.
Chapter 13
As he had suspected, Dandy Macintyre was acting as bookie and had Brian not been in such high good humour he might have been insulted by the odds he got on Perdita finishing the course. But the prize money would be sweet.
For the rest of the morning he worked with Carlo and the rest of the gladiators. Ox and Trouble were wrist suspended out on the first tee for the day. At least once a week they were sent there for what Carlo referred to as ‘practice’. By the first tee, down a slope from the car park at the front of the house, a tall sycamore grew, slightly apart from a long copse which separated the first and the eighteenth fairways. From one of its branches Yuri and Ivan had slung two ropes which were knotted around steel rings at their lower ends. To these Ox - and Trouble since she had arrived - were tied, with their feet just able to touch the ground. Each slave held a sturdily lashed flogger in her teeth. As the members queued to tee off, they were invited to flog both slaves as hard as they cared to. It was an ideal way of warming up for golf and Carlo was of the opinion that as both slaves were principally whip fodder in the arenas, regular days spent doing nothing but being flogged could only harde
n them up. It seemed to be something of a self-fulfilling prophecy because Ox was in almost constant demand for dungeon duty due to her now almost limitless ability to take the whip. And the more she was flogged there, the more she could take at the tree, but Trouble, now docile and totally in lust with her sisters in slavery to the extent that she was even becoming a fairly enthusiastic fuck, was showing great promise and catching up fast. On that morning, Brian took both slaves out and mounted them, then he returned to run the assault course with Cherry and after that wrestle with Jet and Blondie. Patti drove El Tigre in the specially weighted trap until, at lunch, she staggered back into the yard, almost dropping between the shafts and scored with countless welts from Patti’s whip.
Brian took Perdita her lunch and afterwards allowed her out of her stall to watch Jet, Cherry, Blondie and Tigre at boxing practice. Carlo approached this with his usual brutally simple logic. He reasoned that the greatest handicap a female boxer could take into the arena or the slave pens was fear of the studded corset and thong she wore. Secondly he knew that the body has a very short memory where pain is concerned - the female body especially so; otherwise there would be a lot of only-child families, he was fond of observing. Therefore the way to make outstanding boxers was to constantly remind the slaves of the levels of pain the studs could cause. This removed the fear factor and lessened the chances of a masochist allowing herself to be surprised by the pain to the extent where it tipped into orgasm. This was a frequent occurrence in the arenas and eagerly watched for by the crowds. It meant that a fighter was completely disarmed by her own dazed pleasure and her opponent could play with her for quite a long time before delivering the coup de gras.