A Taste Of Amber

by Penny Birch

  Moving her down the slope at a run was mildly exhilarating, but even at a sprint we moved far more slowly than a real horse would have pulled a buggy. I took her round again and on the second lap began to appreciate something that Henry had told me but which I had not really understood.

  Controlling a pony-girl produces a slow, steady build-up of sexual tension. Just seeing a beautiful girl in her harness is exciting, as is the thought of controlling her. Actually doing so makes one’s pleasure build and build, reaching a peak far greater than if one had merely satisfied one’s initial lust. I suppose the same is true of any form of drawn-out sex play, but it is especially effective with a pony-girl. It’s fun to drive a pony-cart anyway, but there is the constant view of one’s pony-girl’s bare, bouncing bottom. She can be made to pose, too, perhaps kneeling in a position that not only looks exquisitely humble and submissive but parts her buttocks to reveal her fanny and anus. She can be caressed and teased, and can do nothing to dictate where her mistress’s fingers go or how intimately she is fondled. Then there are the more subtle expressions of dominance, such as feeding her by hand, watering her from a bottle, and putting her in ribbons and other pretty things. Finally she can be mounted, still in bondage, and brought to orgasm.

  Of course, mounting her really takes a cock to fill her with, which I naturally didn’t have. Not that I would have to go without my ultimate pleasure, and various ways of making the best of Ginny’s tongue were going through my head as I steered her in a last circle and drew her to a stop beside Henry.

  ‘What course shall I take, then?’ I asked.

  ‘It seems sensible to go for a short one on the flat,’ he answered. ‘Take her out through the arch that leads to the drive, around the house, and back through the garden to here. That was always our short sprint course. Jean always used to manage about a minute and a half, but that was pulling me, so you’d better be able to do better than that.’

  ‘What was the record?’ I asked.

  ‘I’ll tell you when you’ve tried it,’ Henry answered.

  ‘Fair enough,’ I told him. ‘Rise then, Ginny.’

  She rose again and responded to my rein and whip commands until I had her lined up at the point indicated by Henry. At the touch of my whip she took off at an impressive pace, sprinting down the drive so fast that I had to clutch the sides of the pony-cart. Turning across the front of the house nearly spilt us, but she managed to control our weight. The tyres crunched on the loose gravel where the car was parked, little stones flying up to either side of us.

  I remembered to urge Ginny on as she made for the narrow arch that led into the garden, but still didn’t feel secure about letting go with my hands. I knew I wouldn’t look very elegant or commanding hanging on for dear life but, fortunately, there was nobody to see. For all the mental control of being in charge of a pony-girl, physically one actually feels more secure when in harness, which I suppose must also be true with real horses.

  Ginny took the arch at full speed, brushing clematis against my face. Beyond was the garden, a large lawn studded with round flower beds and crossed by a geometrical design of pressed gravel paths. To get to the far arch by paths we needed to make for the centre of the lawn and turn sharply back on ourselves. I pulled at the reins to steer Ginny to the right, but she took no notice, instead bumping the cart up on to the lawn and making directly for the arch.

  ‘Hey! Not on the lawn!’ I called, once more nearly getting unseated by the bump when we crossed from path to grass.

  Ginny took no notice, sprinting straight for the arch, turning hard through it and crossing the imaginary line by Henry’s chair at full speed. Only then did she slow, wheeling the cart around and responding to my reins when I drew on them to bring her to a stop.

  ‘Fifty-eight seconds,’ Henry remarked, snapping the case of his stopwatch shut as he rose from the chair. ‘A good time, but if you will excuse me I believe I heard Amber say something about the lawn.’

  ‘You’re in trouble,’ I told Ginny as Henry’s broad back vanished through the arch. ‘From me as well as Henry, disobedient girl. Kneel and stay in position.’

  Ginny knelt, allowing me to climb out of the cart and follow Henry into the garden. As I had expected, two ruts ran across the lawn where the wheels had sunk into the earth that was still wet from the application of a sprinkler.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ I said, walking up beside Henry and putting my arm on his shoulder.

  ‘It’s no great matter,’ he replied, returning my friendly gesture with an arm around my waist. ‘Indeed more than one race has been won by the same manoeuvre. If you look carefully you will see that the lawn still dips a little despite years of rolling.’

  ‘We don’t need to tell Ginny that, though, do we?’ I suggested.

  ‘My thoughts exactly,’ Henry replied. ‘Does she have any particular favourite fantasy we could turn into a punishment?’

  ‘Not as such,’ I admitted. ‘She’s really into showing off and being the centre of attention. She used to attract the lads at her farm by making sure they got a glimpse of her in the nude or something, as if by accident.’

  ‘Something of an exhibitionist, eh?’ Henry replied. ‘Well, I know what do with girls like that. What about physical punishment and so on?’

  ‘I’m sure she’d be willing to try, but I don’t think things like sexual humiliation get to her the way they do to me. It wouldn’t be fair to say her tastes are simple, but they’re more down to earth, perhaps. Still, I’m sure she’d enjoy having her bottom warmed, and I’d enjoy doing it to her.’

  ‘Then do so,’ Henry answered, ‘and tell her it’s her punishment. Try the course twice more first and, after you’ve beaten her, take her around the estate but make sure you’re at the place where the track doubles back by the copper beech at … let me see … four-thirty.’

  ‘Fine,’ I agreed. ‘What are you up to?’

  ‘That,’ Henry announced, ‘is not for you to worry about. Just make sure she knows the stop word.’

  We walked back to the yard, finding Ginny still kneeling obediently on the ground. Other than my brief and hot-tempered use of the quirt on Ellen Campbell’s bottom, this was my first chance to punish a friend. On the other hand it was something I’d always fantasised over and, if spanking Susan had been my favourite fantasy, then giving Ginny the same treatment came not far behind.

  ‘Right, young lady,’ I told her as Henry and I approached. ‘Two more circuits and then I’m going to teach you not to disobey me. You’ll also have to atone to Henry for driving across his lawn.’

  Ginny bowed her head, a gesture so submissive and yielding that I began to wonder if she had been picking things up from Susan. I knew that they’d been to bed together a couple of times after I’d been expelled, and that Ginny had more than once given the smaller girl the spankings she craved. From Ginny’s behaviour it looked as if she also might have caught the bug of enjoying physical punishment on her own bottom.

  After not two but three more circuits Ginny managed to record a time under a minute without using the lawn as a short cut. We tried once more but she was obviously beginning to tire and was slower. Henry then told us that the best-recorded time was forty-nine seconds and that for beginners we had done extremely well. That improved my confidence, especially as it was Ginny’s first time as a pony-girl.

  ‘Time for your punishment, then,’ I announced when she was once more kneeling in the yard, only now breathing hard and slick with sweat. ‘Before I start you should know that to stop it you just have to say the word red, or yellow if you want me to slow down. Now, I’d really like to teach you a lesson by thoroughly humiliating you, but I know you’d just enjoy it if I made you suck Henry’s cock, and you’re going to lick me later anyway. Instead, I’m going to give you a good, old-fashioned spanking and then a few strokes of my whip to give you something to remember.’

  I unfastened Ginny’s wrist straps, pulled her to her feet and marched her into the scullery. Henr
y followed, making himself comfortable against an old-fashioned mangle as I pulled a chair out and gestured for Ginny to get over my knee. She went down, lying over my legs with her hands touching the ground on one side and her feet on the other. I put my arm around her waist in the same way Henry had used to hold me down when he first spanked me. Ginny sighed as I put a hand on her bottom. Her flesh was damp and prickly from her exertion, her bottom full and fleshy, the cheeks a little open to show a tuft of golden hair between them. She was shivering, and so was I as I wobbled her cheeks under my palm. The sensation of having her over my lap was exquisite. Nude but for her harness, her lovely bottom stuck up for my attention, posed for me to punish at my leisure.

  ‘You’re so lovely, Ginny,’ I said, forgetting to be dominant in my sheer lust for her, ‘and I’m going to spank you so hard.’

  With that I set to work, bringing my palm down hard on my friend’s naked bottom. She squeaked and her bum bounced, then again as my hand smacked down a second time. I tightened my grip on her waist and delivered the third, then the fourth, delighting in the way her bottom wobbled with each smack and was growing pink from my attentions. I set in with a will, making Ginny kick her legs up and down and squeal out protests through her gag. It was great, my sole regret being that I hadn’t had a chance to take down her panties and make her suffer the shame of having her bottom laid bare. Actually that would have had little effect on Ginny, but I would have enjoyed it anyway. The physical sensation of being soundly spanked was certainly having an effect on her, though, with her legs kicking up and her body writhing under my restraining arm. Her whole bum was red, the cheeks now coming further apart as she wriggled. I smiled up at Henry, who returned a satisfied grin as he stroked a very conspicuous bulge in his trousers with one hand.

  ‘Yellow! Yellow!’ Ginny finally squeaked through her mouthful of leather. ‘Amber, you’re so rough! Ow, my poor bottom!’

  ‘Sorry,’ I said, ‘but you deserved that, and I did so enjoy it. Let’s see how you enjoyed it.’

  I slipped a hand between her legs without warning, drawing a squeak from her as my fingers found the dampness of her fanny and then a long sigh as I slid my two longest fingers deep inside her. She was wet, swollen and ready from the excitement of what I had done to her.

  ‘You’re soaking, you dirty little tramp,’ I chided her. ‘Well, there’s only one cure for that.’

  ‘Amber!’ she squealed as I set to work again.

  Only when the palm of my hand started to get sore did I finally stop, rolling Ginny off my lap to lie panting on the floor, her bright-red bottom stuck out towards Henry. Spanking her had turned me on so much that I was ready to come, despite not having once touched myself. Throughout the pony-carting I’d been getting slowly more and more worked up, and now I was at boiling point. Another detail from my fantasies suddenly sprang into my mind, and it was something that might successfully humiliate Ginny.

  ‘Play with yourself,’ I ordered, standing up.

  Ginny didn’t need telling twice, immediately rolling on to her back, opening her legs wide and starting to masturbate shamelessly in front of us.

  ‘Show her your lovely cock,’ I told Henry.

  Ginny pulled her head up, continuing to rub at herself as Henry undid his fly and pulled out a nearly erect penis. I stepped over and took it in my hand, tugging at it until it was rigid in my hand.

  ‘That’s huge,’ Ginny breathed in awe.

  ‘Is it?’ I asked Henry.

  ‘So I’m always told,’ he replied.

  ‘It is,’ Ginny assured us. ‘Slip it in me for a bit, please, Henry.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ he answered.

  He went slowly down on his knees, his cock rearing up towards Ginny’s open fanny. She reached forward and took it in her hand, stroking and pulling, then putting the head to her vagina as he moved forward. She groaned loudly as it slid inside her, rolling her legs up and catching her own ankles. Henry began to move into her, pushing her thighs back against her tummy with each forward motion. I could see it going in, Ginny’s sex stretched wide where the great thick shaft went into her. Her eyes were shut and her mouth was clamped around her bit, biting hard into the leather. Looking at her beautiful face with its expression of absolute ecstasy added an urgency to my intentions and also an exquisitely rude detail.

  ‘Don’t come in her!’ I demanded, struggling to get my trousers down.

  ‘I shan’t,’ Henry puffed, taking hold of Ginny’s legs and starting to fuck her slowly and evenly.

  She sighed, opening her eyes again as I pulled off my panties and boots together. Turning her face to me, she pushed the bit out of her mouth and stuck her tongue out to me, her eyes fixed on my bare fanny.

  ‘Like I said,’ I addressed Henry, ‘don’t come in her; pull out and come on me.’

  He moved back, his cock popping out of my friend’s fanny to stand proud and glistening with her juice. It was more than I could resist not to taste it and I went down, opening my mouth for him to guide it in. The flavours of cock and fanny mingled in my mouth. I sucked greedily for a bit before pulling back and mounting Ginny, presenting Henry with my naked upraised bottom spread wide in front of him.

  ‘Come all over it,’ I demanded.

  ‘I’ll spank it if you don’t stop being bossy,’ he answered, and the next instant a hard smack landed on my bum.

  I looked around to find that he was masturbating himself over my bottom while he spanked me, gently but firmly. I started to kiss Ginny, our tongues meeting as my bottom bounced under another slap. Ginny’s arm went around me, hugging me into her as I was spanked. It was gorgeous being held lovingly and beaten at the same time but, before I could really get into it, I heard Henry groan and felt his come splash between my open bottom-cheeks, warm and wet.

  Rising and turning before Ginny had a chance to realise what I was doing, I positioned myself over her face, paused an instant to let her appreciate what was about to happen, and then sat squarely down on her face, spreading my bum-cheeks as I lowered myself. She gave a muffled squeak and then was silent, unable to protest with my bottom on her face.

  ‘Lick it,’ I ordered, ‘and you’re not to come until I have.’

  Henry had sunk back on his haunches and was looking on in delight as I rubbed my come-spattered bottom directly into Ginny’s face. Her mouth was against my bottom-hole, her hands going back to her fanny.

  ‘Is she doing it?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ I answered, gasping the words out as Ginny’s tongue tip began to lick at my anus.

  I started to dab at my clitty. Ginny was actually doing it, licking my bottom, her tongue eagerly lapping up Henry’s sperm. I paused to pull my top and bra up, needing to bare my tits so that I could play with a nipple. The tip of Ginny’s tongue was actually in my bumhole, wriggling about to give me the most exquisite sensation.

  Henry watched as the two of us played with ourselves, both fannies spread before him, both of us with our bodies naked and aroused, one girl licking his semen from the other’s bottom. He had left his cock out and was playing with it, stroking his balls and working a thumb up and down the shaft. Ginny’s tongue was well inside me and I was starting to come, the muscles of my bottom contracting against her face. I transferred my attention to her fanny as my climax began. One hand was cupping her plump mound, golden hair spilling out around her palm, two fingers holding her vaginal lips apart so that she could use the knuckles of the other hand to rub at her swollen clitoris. My own vagina started to pulse, my anus tightening, actually around Ginny’s tongue. Her pretty, kissable mouth was open around my bumhole, smeared with sperm and my juices. The firm pink tongue that had been intertwined with mine moments before was now pushed into my anus, probing me, filling me.

  I screamed Ginny’s name as I came, pressing myself hard against her face, my head thrown back in ecstasy. It happened twice more, smaller peaks with my screams of pleasure subsiding to gasps and then sighs. Ginny immediately started to rub harde
r at her own clit, licking at my bottom ever more fervently. My bottom-hole felt so sensitive that it was hard to stay in place and let her lick it, but it would have been cruel to dismount when she was about to come. I didn’t have long to endure it, though. Her legs came up and squeezed together around her arms, I felt her taking a desperate breath beneath me, and then her tongue was pushed back inside me and she was coming, bucking under me, licking as if she was trying to eat me and thrusting her hips up in little jerks. If she knew just what a sight she was making in front of Henry then she obviously didn’t care, no more than I had done moments before. Finally her jerks and squirms stopped and I climbed off, grinning at Henry. He raised his eyebrows in return, clearly impressed.

  ‘I told you she was dirty,’ I remarked, proud that my friend had lived up to the image I had built of her.

  We had made the rudest, most uninhibited display in front of him, getting completely carried away and doing things that would have been unthinkable had it not been for the slow build up of pleasure provided by the pony-carting. Ginny and I discussed this while we washed. She admitted that she hadn’t really seen the point at first but had been willing to play on the grounds that anything I was so keen on had to be worth a try. Actually being put in harness had converted her, making her realise not only how good it felt to be under the control of a lover but also how much opportunity it gave for showing off. The aspect of making an exhibition of myself had been only a minor part of the thrill for me, and it was evident from what Ginny was saying that her pleasure, while no less intense, was very different to mine. We agreed that it takes imagination to appreciate pony-girls as a form of erotic play, but given that first bit of imagination the possibilities are endless.