by Sean O'Kane
When he was satisfied and she had taken down the final spurt of his ejaculation he stood back and pulled on a loose robe before leaving the room. He would be an hour or two, but he would need the room as it was when he came back. The furniture could wait.
Chapter Seven
Two days later Sophie had been sold. The Prince and Wilbur sat opposite each other in Wilbur’s office and signed the necessary paperwork. Apart from the fact that the Prince had offered more money than anyone else, he had offered a neat solution to Wilbur’s lingering guilt about selling the girl on when he had given her his word that at the end of her contract she could go free if she wished.
“Then don’t sell me the girl,” the Prince had said when he had listened to Wilbur’s protestations that he was a man of honour. The price had already been agreed and so the Prince recognised that Wilbur was genuinely troubled. Western consciences had always amused him. “Sell me the contract. You know that I also am a man of my word and she is safe with me.”
Wilbur thought for a second and then smiled and sat back, looking across the table into the Prince’s dark eyes. He had been assured that the terms of the contract would be honoured, what more could he want? Now he could get the girl off his ranch and whoever was looking for her could go look on the other side of the world.
“I will of course take the precaution of chipping her before transit,” the Prince concluded. “She is a powerful creature and could make it difficult to get her out of the country if she struggled. It won’t take more than a day to have one delivered and inserted.”
“A day or so will not be a problem, your Highness,” Wilbur agreed and the men stood up and shook hands on the deal just as Markham, Wilbur’s private secretary came in.
“I have a party of three booked in for this afternoon and I’m sending the car to pick them up at the Excelsior, Sir,” he announced. “Is Lightning available?”
Wilbur’s ears pricked up. The Excelsior was where Henry had said the P.I. had been spotted in a meeting.
“What name did these people give?” he asked.
Markham checked his tablet. “Er, Mister Holden and two female friends who – he assured me – are both accomplished in the handling of rare breed ponies.” ‘Rare breed’ was the accepted euphemism for when discussing ponies in mails and on phones.
“Holden? Jesus H. Christ! That guy runs CSL and he’s up to his neck in The Lodge, and the British Prime Minister’s a Goddamn member! One word from him and I’ll have the whole freaking White House down on me!”
“Problems?” the Prince enquired. Wilbur explained reluctantly, aware that this could drastically reduce Lightning’s price.
“You don’t know who this girl is but you don’t want any official curiosity into your affairs, am I right?”
“That’s the size of it,” he admitted.
“I could reduce my offer in these circumstances, in return for removing the girl as a matter of urgency. However that still leaves me with the very real risks involved in having an unwilling captive on my hands in a country where I am not a welcome guest. So let us think this through…”
Eventually it was decided that three other ponies would be offered and that Lightning’s stall door would be left half open like all the others, so as not to attract any attention. A groom would keep her firmly tethered at the back and carry out some post-race checks – just anything to keep her attention away from the stableyard in case she knew any of the party.
As the car had already been dispatched to pick the party up, and they didn’t want to alert the passengers to anything untoward over the hand’s free phone by asking too many questions, it was decided that only once they were safely out on the visitor’s track would Lightning be tacked up and driven out in a different direction to a remote part of the estate to await the all clear. It shouldn’t alarm her unduly, there was no reason the visitors should see anything of her and on the following afternoon she would be chipped, shipped and safely dispatched.
Brian was surprised to see the limo that swept out of the ranch gates just as theirs swept in. It was flying the flag of Bakhtar, one he knew well from arenas around the world.
“Well, well. What’s the Prince of Bakhtar doing here?” he wondered aloud.
“Oh, we get all kinds of folk at the ranch. You’d be amazed at who appreciates the ponies these days!” the driver said.
His passengers exchanged smiles.
“Maybe he was looking to buy something,” Brian suggested.
“Oh, Mr Floyd, he don’t sell any ponies. They’re all hand picked for a two year contract and then they can stay on if they want,” he told them, a note of pride in his voice as he reeled out the patter. “The Pretty Pony has the finest ponies you’ll find anywhere, and they aren’t even chipped. These are genuine girls, trained and broken in by our own special methods,” he concluded.
Brian raised his eyebrows and glanced across at Martha who mouthed ‘Wow’ at him. He knew the Prince well enough to doubt that he had been doing anything other than looking to buy livestock, but that was typical of the man. He dismissed him from his thoughts and concentrated on the prospect of driving compliant and unchipped ponies, which was far more intriguing.
They were given two Hispanic girls and one white. The Hispanics’ bodies gleamed magnificently in the bright sun and the tanned complexion of the white girl made a pleasing contrast.
Raika was immediately taken by the white pony and was petting her and fussing over her before Martha and Brian had made a choice. But her enthusiasm was infectious and they happily took a Hispanic girl each. Brian noted the simple tack on his girl – no crupper or tail, just the gold stabilising chain between the pierced nipples. The breasts themselves were big for a pony and he stroked them until she whinnied around her bit. Then he pulled the chain between them, testing how far it would go before it dragged the second after the first.
A tall groom approached them as Martha was squeezing and playing with the tits of her mount.
“We gave you some good strong hackers as you’re experienced drivers,” he said. “I’ll show you a route that’ll give you plenty of chances to put them through their paces.” He held out a map of the estate on which there were red, blue and green routes marked. “Red is for novices,” he explained. “Blue is the scenic route. But I guess you guys want to run them so go for the green.”
All three agreed that the ponies looked perfect for a good gallop on a sunny day.
Brian immediately engaged the man in a discussion about the relative merits of the tit chain as opposed to binding at the roots of the breasts and Martha was free to look around as she mounted and took up the reins of one of the Hispanic ponies. She took up the whip with the new-found confidence that a couple of months at The Lodge had given her and flicked the cord across the pony’s shoulders. She watched the coffee coloured skin flinch and shiver and the head shake, rattling the bridle and reins. Having let the girl know she was there and in charge, she sat back and looked around. The yard was well kept and there were a lot of stalls. She was impressed. If all the stalls were occupied then the Pretty Pony could field almost as many ponies as CSL. Briefly she wondered where they all were if the stalls were occupied. At The Lodge, every girl would be at her door, staring over it, hoping to be picked for a run. But this was obviously a different type of place. Her eye was caught by the gibbet that stuck out from a wall, the chain hanging down from it told her that maybe it wasn’t all that different. The girls were plainly well used to the whip.
Finally the men finished pulling and pushing Brian’s pony’s tits and with a slap to her rump he mounted and took up the reins.
“Any sort of play you want to use them for is included in the price,” the groom told them as he stood back and prepared to wave them off. “They’re trained in all holes and used to being had by ladies too. There might be a surcharge if there’s any cuts is all.”
They set off in line astern and followed the green markers on the tree trunks. As soon as they were c
lear of the yard they whipped their mounts up to a smart trot and were soon out of sight around a bend in the track.
The groom turned and let out a sigh of relief.
“Ok, guys! Get her out!” he called and White Lightning was led out by two men who had made a great show of feeling every muscle in her body to check for strains after the gruelling race day. As one of them slipped a bridle over her head, the first one went to them with the maps. “Take her out to the East pastures and keep her there till I call. A couple of the lads will meet you and you can keep her busy for an hour or two.”
The men grinned at each other. An hour or two with Lightning would suit them very nicely indeed. One man mounted the sulky and the other went to join those going by truck.
Sophie was glad of the chance to stretch her legs again. After the races she had been showered, her bottom had been flushed out and she had been rubbed down then taken on her leash round to the front of the house where a huge barbeque had been held. She had both rosettes pinned to her breasts and was immensely proud as Wilbur Beckington-Floyd himself led her around and boasted about her. When she could she stole glances down at her breasts and was pleased with the tracery of thin pink lines that adorned them. Usually a well whipped pony could look forward to some more male attention to other parts of her anatomy, but on this occasion everyone seemed more interested in talking about her. Finally however she was taken back to her stall, allowed to lie down and play host to any of the men – grooms, guests, whoever; it seemed as though Mr Floyd had declared her common property. She had to admit that she loved the first hour or so. After that her bottom began to sting all over again and this time her vagina followed suit fairly soon. The orgasms were very welcome however and she felt she had earned them. She had woken feeling stiff and sore again and even after the crusted semen had been showered off, she needed exercise to ease the stiffness in her legs.
There had been some activity around her stall, a tall, Arabic-looking man had looked her over from above the stall half-door. Mr Floyd had been hovering behind him and she had been surprised to realise that he was nervous about something. But since then, nothing.
Now she had been checked over with a fine tooth comb and at last she was tacked up and harnessed to a sulky. The groom who was driving her seemed to recognise that she needed to warm up gradually and let her work up to trotting speed gently. He made her walk from time to time and then whipped her back up to trotting and by the time they arrived at the gate to a pasture where cattle were grazing and a truck was waiting, she felt relaxed and loose.
A four man gang bang was exactly what the doctor ordered. They tied her to the gate with her arms and legs spread as wide as possible and took it in turns. Each of them entered her vagina and gratifyingly they took their time. As a result she climaxed with each of them. When they had finished with her she hung panting and sweating in the heat once more as her senses cleared and her heartbeat returned to normal. From over by the truck she heard beer cans being popped and the men settled down to relaxing – she hoped it was only temporarily.
She needn’t have worried. The sight of her tied out on the gate soon re-ignited their interest and one of them came up to her and began to stroke and squeeze her breasts sending shards of pleasure shooting through her. She groaned and stirred in her bonds.
“Hey, guys,” the man called. “She’s ready to go again. What’ll it be; heads or tails?”
A second man came towards her tossing a coin. “You call it!” he said.
“Heads,” the man with his hands still mauling her breasts called.
“Tails! You go last!” the second man said.
They took her down and turned her around then pushed her head and shoulders through a gap in the bars of the gate before stretching her arms out again and tying them. She had had to spread her legs wide to get down to the level required and knew she was offering them everything they wanted. Her anus would be exposed between her spread buttocks, the slit of her sex would be perfectly open too, and she could feel the semen still leaking from her and dribbling down her thighs. The bar her arms were tied to crossed her chest just above her breasts and so they were hanging under her, ripe and full. She felt cool liquid applied to her bottom but couldn’t tell if it was saliva or lube, whichever it was it did the job and she felt a finger slip easily inside her. As always the ‘full’ feeling took a moment to get used to and then she felt her sphincters stretch to accommodate another finger. Then she moaned as she felt yet another finger enter her and prise her open even further to allow the head of a cock began to nudge its way in. Even after all the action it had seen since she had become a ponygirl, her anus and rectum had remained tight and she hoped the cock was well lubricated. It did seem to be and she felt it open her up to its fullest extent and the man’s pubic hair tickled the inner slopes of her buttocks as he came to rest against her. And certainly he did seem to want to rest, staying where he was, his cock impaling her rectum and it wasn’t until she heard a can crumple and a sigh of satisfaction from behind her that she realised he had finished his drink before going back to buggering her. And as the shaft began to thrust and withdraw inside her she was vaguely aware that she ought to be outraged by such casual use of her body. But the feeling was so good she ignored it – and anyway if he was that relaxed about using her it probably meant that he would use her whenever the mood took him and she was fine with that.
He came quite quickly and was replaced almost immediately, the second cock sliding in smoothly on the emissions left by the first. This man was rougher with her and slammed himself against her backside as he rammed into her again and again. Then he reached forwards and grabbed her breasts so he had to buck his hips into her in order to maintain his grip. The stimulation at both ends of her body allowed her to begin to climb towards climax but he came before she could finish and was gone immediately. They left her alone for a moment and she felt renewed trickles of sperm run, rapidly cooling, down the backs of her thighs and ooze along her labia. She presumed that the third man wasn’t so keen on sloppy seconds and indeed she felt him use a handkerchief to wipe some of it away before he inserted himself. His entry was a little more difficult and he had to force himself in, but even as she gritted her teeth against the pain she heard him sigh with pleasure at how tight she was. Once he was lodged fully inside her he was able to move more freely and came fairly quickly. The fourth man was obviously in a hurry after watching the other three and administered a no-nonsense, brisk buggering that left her agonisingly close to an orgasm when he wrenched himself out of her and she felt her anus gape for a second or so before it closed.
They left her where she was and went back to the truck for more beer but returned to heft and play with her breasts, slapping them and pinching them, making them swing beneath her chest and quite soon they were ready for ‘Heads’.
Sophie was keen to get started. She didn’t come from sucking cock but she did enjoy being close up to them and tasting them. The men released her and helped her to stand before they turned her away from the gate and had her kneel with her back to it then they tied her arms stretched out again. They had her shuffle her knees forward slightly so that she could lean back and offer her mouth up better. It also meant that her sperm streaked thighs were apart and her breasts were available. They whipped her with their belts while they drank some more beer and got ready for their final fling with her. She flinched and yelped under the harsh smacks of the doubled over leather as they targeted her groin, swinging the belts downwards and landing heavy swipes on her soft labial flesh. Her breasts suffered as well and in between shutting her eyes as the lashes landed, she could see the bulges in their trousers and was longing for them to get started. And at last the sight of her lacerated and well-fucked body was too much for one of them and he called a halt, stepping forwards as he undid his flies. His cock was stubby but reasonably thick and it tasted richly of her own body and his spunk. And to add to her degradation, he simply held her head and fucked her face with no finesse o
r care for her. He just wanted to feel the intimate confines of her mouth and throat around him as he came. And he wanted to be as deep inside her as he could get. Sophie had become practised at relaxing her throat during fellation and rode him out quite easily. He was deep enough inside her that she didn’t even taste his spend but she enjoyed feeling the swelling pulses run through his shaft as he pumped into her. She hardly had time to draw breath before the second one was at her. He was longer and thinner and enjoyed her tongue exploring him, so when he came she got the full taste of his spunk before she swallowed it. The third cock was bigger and curved and she had trouble fitting him in and enjoyed it all the more for that. She got a real sense of achievement when she heard him roar his release into her sorely tested throat and then wrench himself out so that he could come over her face. She was able to look up at the shining purple dome as it splashed its liquor out onto her cheeks and forehead before it was plunged back into her mouth for her to lick it clean. She was gasping for breath after him and protested feebly when the last man slipped his length between her gaping lips, but he enjoyed her distress and fucked her face as cruelly as the first man had. She desperately tried to breathe through her nose and keep calm but he rammed so deeply into her that she panicked and choked on his come as it splashed thickly out. She hadn’t been able to get him fully into her throat and it went up her nose as she choked and spluttered while the thick shaft itself filled her mouth and still thrust in vain for her throat. Then he withdrew and wiped himself on her face while his mates laughed and cheered.
