And as he methodically beat her breasts Beauty gasped and whimpered and drooled about her gag as her eyes became misty with tears, but she did not attempt to pull away from him. For his part Danny did not rush. He savoured each blow, testing the heat he had beaten into her mammaries, noting the sparkle of tears in his eyes. He was enjoying himself as he should but he also cared how she felt. It was all very controlled, deliberate and very masterful. She decided that Danny was stronger than he looked. He was hurting her but under his hands it did not feel like ordinary pain. Beauty felt herself growing hotter and she realised her pussy was beginning to dribble. She recalled it had been nearly two days since she had last had an orgasm: before the treadmill incident. That was a long time for a healthy slavegirl to go without
And then Danny stopped, leaving her swaying on her heels with her simmering breasts throbbing. The bulge in his trousers was very pronounced. He pulled her bit out.
‘Who am I?’ he asked.
‘You are my master,’ Beauty responded.
‘Will you obey me as you would your mistress?’
‘Yes, Master.’
‘Get on the bed...’ he said sharply.
‘Yes, Master.’
It was a far less elaborate bed than Samantha’s but it did have retractable chains built into its corner posts. Danny chained her legs wide, freed her wrists and stretched out her arms and re-clipped her cuffs to the headboard.
For a moment he stood over her spread-eagled body, looking her over hungrily. Then he stripped off his clothes. He was more lightly built than Sam but he was no weakling, with slender hard muscles and a wiry physique. By now his penis was standing up stiffly and it was certainly not undersized.
Grinning like a schoolboy he mounted her, taking his place between her legs and sliding his shaft into her slippery wet, eager passage. She clamped her sheath about him and he began to ride her. Beauty delighted in the feel of a man’s cock inside her again. She still loved Sam’s pussy and the dildos she had used on her, but there was nothing quite like having a real flesh penis plunging like a piston in her slippery hot depths.
And then Danny did something that many masters never did and was to her far more intimate than coupling. Inflamed by his growing passion he kissed her hard on the lips.
They came together, she bucking so hard with her ponygirl strength that she almost threw him off her, and for a timeless interval Beauty felt she had touched the sky.
* * *
They talked as Danny lay resting on top of her, their naked bodies sticky with sweat.
Beauty was perfectly happy to lie bound under him, supporting his weight, still giving him the pleasure of her resilient flesh.
‘You were fantastic,’ he assured her once again with bubbling boyish sincerity. ‘I really envy Miss Samantha having you. You’re something special. And so strong! I’m glad I had you well chained down. I mean you’re not my first ponygirl. I’ve used several of the spare ponygirls at the stable when Mr Paring’s given permission. But it’s not the same as owning your own girl in your own home, as Tess Harrow and her friends keep reminding me. It’s all right for them. They’ve got rich parents...’ Danny’s face clouded. ‘Mine... well we’ve had problems.’
‘I’m sorry, Master,’ Beauty sympathised while at the same time feeling strangely superior. One thing a slave did not have to worry about was money problems. Somebody in Irontown would always be ready to find a position for them. They were never short of people ready to make use of their abilities.
But Danny’s natural good humour returned swiftly. ‘Anyway I’m working at the stables which is great, but it means I’ve got to save for things. It’s a shame there’s no money in ponygirl riding. It really is only for the rich.’ He looked at Beauty thoughtfully. ‘I don’t want to sound selfish, but part of me hopes Samantha stays away until after the cup. Maybe this is the only chance I’ll ever get to ride a girl as good as you.’ He checked the bedside clock. ‘And I’ve got to be getting off. I’m due at the stables this afternoon. I’ll have to work first but when I’m done I can give you a proper ride.’
* * *
Danny was dressed and Beauty was cleaned out and was fit once more to be seen in public, which was to say her hands were cuffed behind her once again, a leash was clipped to her collar and she now had a pair of sandals on her feet. Her breasts still simmered gently but it had been a precise beating and her skin was unbroken and so evenly flushed that it did not show. She felt acutely aware of her mammaries and her nipples stood up hard and proud, lifting her rings clear of the lower curves of her breasts.
Danny looked her over with pride and satisfaction. Then he took a padlock out of his pocket. Squatting in front of her he drew her labial rings, still a little slippery with her juices, together and snapped the padlock through them. She felt its weight tug on her delicate flesh as it hung heavy against her cleft.
‘I read that it makes a girl feel she belongs to a master more if she knows he has the only key to her pussy,’ he explained. ‘That entrance to your body is for my exclusive use from now on. You’ll wear the padlock in public when there’s nothing else filling you. What does it feel like?’
Beauty felt a thrill of helpless anticipation even as her juices began to seep through her now pinched sex mouth. The degree of his control over her had just been raised a notch. It seemed that Danny could be surprising in his own way.
‘Exciting, Master,’ she said.
A gate at the bottom of the garden of number twenty-three opened onto the service alleyway. Looking both proud and slightly self-conscious, Danny led Beauty through it. He was of course taking her out into a public space while naked and leashed but thanks to the industry and ingenuity of Shackleswell’s founding fathers, during her journey to the stables she would not be seen by anybody except Irontown citizens.
At one end of the alley there was an ornate cast iron and glass canopy that sheltered the head of a flight of spiral stairs that wound down deep into the ground. At the bottom was a long electric-lit tunnel well below street level. A handful of people were in sight, a couple also leading naked slavegirls.
The end of the tunnel opened out into a small, neat, white-tiled underground station. Loops of the narrow gauge rails peeled off from the outsides of the straight through-line to form the platform stops. A low bridge over the line connected the two halves of the station. The signs on the walls read: POTTERY LANE and: CIRCLE LINE
After the loop rejoined the mainline at either end of the station it vanished into the mouths of low tunnels, far smaller than those used by regular underground trains. A few dozen people were waiting for the next train. Danny nodded politely to a few he evidently knew by sight and took a seat on a bench. Beauty knelt beside him, aware of the curious and appreciative eyes upon her and the weight of the padlock in her sex.
A few minutes later there came the smooth click clack of wheels and a train emerged from the tunnel on their right, turned off the through line and pulled up at the platform. Danny rose to join it, leading Beauty after him.
The train comprised three low, lightweight, open carriages. The rear carriage had simple metal lattice frame sides while the first two had solid sides and were each fitted with three rows of comfortable double seats. The rear carriage was floored with black sponge rubber matting and had two rows of six phalluses rising vertically up from the floor. Its sides were hung with chains and fastening rings. Five girls were currently occupying the carriage, each squatting down impaled on a phallus with their leashes clipped to the frame rings. At the rear a guard rode on a small fold-down seat. As the train drew to a halt he climbed out into the platform and checked the passengers were entering and leaving the train safely.
But it was the engine that was the most striking, and Beauty thought the best, feature of the train.
It was powered by a pair of naked, sweating slavegirls who wer
e secured side by side and face down within a cylindrical metal frame a little like the boiler section of an old-fashioned steam engine. This rested on four rail wheels, the front pair smaller than the rear. The girls’ arms were stretched out in front of them and cuffed to the frame that carried the front buffers and lamps. The girls’ chests and stomachs rested on padded trays to which they were firmly strapped. The rings of their dangling, glossy breasts were threaded through by a horizontal rod that linked them to the frame of the engine. Their legs were cuffed to sets of bicycle-like pedals and heavy gears that were connected to the rear set of larger drive wheels.
Behind the girls sat the driver in an open cab above the rear drive wheels. Before him was a bank of controls that connected to the wheel, gears and his living pistons. Ribbed power control rods, functioning like throttles, were inserted up the girls’ greased rectums with warning spiked pads mounted behind them. Each notch signalled a required increase in speed.
Danny took Beauty to the cattle truck, removed her pussy padlock and saw her settle over a phallus before clipping her leash to a tether ring. Then he took his seat in the forward carriage.
When all was ready the guard blew his whistle and waved his flag and then returned to his seat. The driver pushed the power rods forward and the girl pistons began to pedal. They moved off slowly at first, clicking over the points to return to the main line. But as they plunged into the tunnel they were picking up more speed, and all cleanly and noiselessly without expending any electricity, coal or oil. As Rowland had discovered a century and half earlier, it was remarkable how large a mass could be moved by female muscle power alone it if was applied at its greatest efficiency via pedals and gears to loads moving on smooth rails with minimal gradients.
As they speeded up Beauty could feel the familiar slight vibration of the wheels and the click of joints and points transmitted up inside her by her phallus on which she was impaled. It was a happy feeling. She felt connected both to the girls powering the engine and the whole web of secret underground lines. The girl-powered railway network under Shackleswell was one of the wonders of the city. She did not for a moment think the girls powering the engine were oppressed. They knew that while they were working hard they were serving an important and useful purpose. They were a perfect representation of Rowland’s principles: female bodies and muscle power carefully controlled and directed to keep goods and passengers moving swiftly and efficiently about the city.
They changed trains at Needlemakers onto the Furnace Green line. This stopped at Foundry Halt. Here Danny took charge of Beauty again and led her out of the station. They ascended a square spiral of stairs and emerged from under another ornate canopy situated in an enclosed garden next to the stable entrance with its own discreet gateway leading into the premises.
Once inside the stables Danny led Beauty to Parings office. The stable owner flashed a rare reassuring grin at him.
‘Fillister has explained everything, so you don’t have to tell me how you came to be in charge of his daughter’s prize ponygirl. In all honesty I’m not unhappy she’s gone. This pony has great potential, but I’m afraid Samantha Fillister has not got what it takes to really make the most of her.’
Beauty felt a pang of disappointment on her mistress’s behalf. Sam was not a bad rider.
‘You, on the other hand, might have,’ Paring concluded.
‘That’s very kind of you to say so, Mr Paring.’
‘You know I don’t flatter or swell heads. I tell it like it is. We’re not busy at the moment so why not harness Beauty up and take her round the jump course? I want to see how well you work together.’
Ten minutes later Beauty felt Danny’s weight for the first time transmitted through the harness and phalluses of a hobby horse as he sat behind her straddling her hips. He squeezed her breasts reassuringly as he reached round to gather up the control handles. Then, with Paring striding after them, he guided her out of the yard into the paddock.
Danny took her on a circuit of the perimeter first so he could get a feel for her rhythm. As he did so she was assessing him. He was a little lighter than Sam and so he was easy enough to pull. Also he steered her through turns with a steady hand. But how would it be over the jumps? She had been getting used to Sam’s weight and style of riding and they had been steadily improving their times. It was hard to make the adjustment to somebody else having such intimate control over her. At the same time Beauty could sense Danny was acutely aware of Paring’s eyes on them. The pressure was on them both, and despite what she had said to Danny her bottom was still sore. Well, she must simply ignore it.
She tried to surrender her will to Danny as she had been learning to do with Sam. While she supplied the power a pony must be utterly subservient to her rider when it came to the line they took about the course. Her skill came in hitting her stride exactly for takeoff and landing and keeping her feet under her as the wheels came down at her heels and the rig bounced and swayed.
Danny lined her up for the starting line. Paring was standing beside it holding a stopwatch. Beauty heard Danny groan under his breath. Suddenly the pressure on them multiplied.
Beauty gave herself up to Danny’s control. He was the master of her nipples and bit and all his commands would flow through them. All she had to do was obey them without thinking, leaving only the pacing of the takeoffs and the recovery upon landing for her to worry about. Her thighs strained as he called for more speed and they galloped across the start line.
It was a wonderful round! The angles Danny chose for each jump were tight and he swung his weight about that fraction faster than Sam. Hauling less weight up the hill was a definite bonus and Beauty felt she almost flew up it. As they cleared the water jump and flashed across the finish line she was sure they had done at least as well as the best round she and Sam had put in. But would Paring and his stopwatch agree?
Danny was patting her as he swung her round into a gentle trot. ‘Well done, Beauty! Well done...’
They returned to the line and Paring showed Danny his time. It was nearly a second better than the best she and Sam had yet achieved. ‘Keep going like that and you’ll be on the cup team,’ he said.
Beauty felt a thrill of excitement while Danny gasped. ‘Oh... thank you, Mr Paring. I’ll do my best.’
‘Now walk her round to cool off then put her on the walker for a couple of hours while you get on with your work. If you want you can have another go with her over the jumps later.’
‘I’d love that, Mr Paring.’
Paring returned to his office while Danny rode Beauty gently round the perimeter of the field. It was hard to say which one of them felt more elated. Danny kept patting and stroking Beauty. ‘You are so strong,’ he said. ‘Samantha is so lucky to own you.’
Having Danny riding her felt right, Beauty had to admit. So had Sam, of course, but in a subtly different way. One way or another she began to believe she would compete for the cup.
There was a small, high-hedged, secluded paddock gated off from the main field. It housed several exercise devices each sheltered by a large folding awning. The ground was covered with woodbark chippings, making it virtually an all-weather facility. Riders could leave their ponies there being mechanically exercised while monitored by a staff member.
The walker was a six-armed rotating frame mounted on a sturdy hollow central post. A pony’s collar could be clipped to the end of each arm. Leading the arms was a smaller sprung rod that hooked into the girl’s nipple rings. As long as the arms turned at a set rate air was pumped into a piston set in the central post raised. If the rate slowed the weight fell and pulled on the nipple chains to encourage them to speed up. A couple of ponies were already clopping round it at a steady pace.
Danny unharnessed Beauty from the rig. She felt the phalluses pulling out of her wetly and knew she had become aroused by her run. Of course Sam was used to seeing her lik
e this but this was the first time for Danny.
He ran a finger through her sticky cleft and then smelt her discharge. ‘Looks like you’ve been enjoying yourself.’
‘I have, Master.’
‘You should. I’ve never ridden a better pony. I think we can make this work.’
‘I’ll try my best, Master.’
He had just replaced her pussy lock when the thud of hooves the jingle of harness warned them of the approach of another rig. Tess Harrow and Silver rode through the entrance to the paddock and pulled up beside the walker. She looked at Sam’s rig and then at Danny.
‘What are you doing riding Sam’s pony?’ she asked sharply. ‘Where is she?’
‘Miss Samantha has gone away for a while and Mr Fillister has left Beauty to me to train,’ Danny explained.
‘Why on earth would he do that?’
‘He was kind enough to say he trusted me to take good care of her. Isn’t that right, Beauty?’
‘That’s right, he did, Master,’ Beauty said clearly for Tess’s benefit.
Tess looked appalled. ‘You’re letting her talk? What’s the point of having a muter fitted if you let her speak?’
‘I chose to allow her to speak when it pleases me, Miss Harrow,’ Danny said stiffly. ‘And as I’m now her master until Miss Samantha comes back it’s my choice.’
‘You’re too soft!’ Tess said with contempt. ‘Any idea how long Sam’s going to be gone?’
‘None at all.’
A look of malicious satisfaction crossed her face. ‘That doesn’t surprise me. Sam never stuck to anything for very long. Well if she doesn’t get in enough practice, Beauty certainly won’t be riding for the Cup. That’s a bit of a waste because she’s not a bad pony. She should be given to somebody else to ride.’
‘Actually Mr Fillister said in that case I could ride her, if we were good enough. We did a round earlier and Mr Paring seemed quite pleased with our performance.’
‘But... you’re staff!’
Ponygirls of Irontown Page 11