by Penny Birch
For all Hippolyta’s athleticism, we managed to gain a little on the rising ground. By the end of the first lap, we were only ten yards or so behind her, but I was already beginning to feel tired and was wondering if any of us would be able to finish five laps at all. She pulled ahead again on the down slope a little less and, by the time we reached the stable yard for the second time, we were right on their heels.
My legs were burning and I could hear Ginny panting through her bit. We’d kept up, though, and that had greatly increased my confidence. As we entered the carriage sweep, Michael shouted to us to go flat out, his whip landing plum across my bottom as he called. I sprinted, pulling to the side, our wheel-housing touching theirs as we drew level. Then we were past, dashing through the gate and forcing Amber to turn Hippolyta aside to avoid running into a pillar.
By the time they managed to sort themselves out, we were twenty yards ahead; thirty, by the time Hippolyta had matched our pace. As before, she gained on the downhill track but lost as we rose and, when we returned to the stable yard, they were well behind us. Still, there were two laps to go and Ginny and I were both flagging. Michael slowed us, knowing that we couldn’t be overtaken on the track and keen to conserve our energies.
There was neither sight nor sound of Amber and I started to wonder if she had pulled up and admitted defeat. We were nearly back at the stable yard and I decided that we were actually going to win. Even when I heard Amber’s voice raised in encouragement behind us, I wasn’t really worried but responded to Michael’s gentle tap of the whip with only a small increase in speed.
We passed through the gates again and I realised that we had done it. They were well behind and couldn’t overtake us anyway. I was also exhausted, but reasoned that even a girl as obviously athletic as Hippolyta had to be tired as well. We slowed to a comfortable trot, saving our energy in case it was needed for a last dash across the stable yard to the winning line.
Amber’s voice came again, closer this time, but I only realised that something was wrong when Michael suddenly began to yell for more speed and Ginny jumped as a whip stroke caught her bum. I could hear Amber behind us but dared not turn around as we gathered pace once again. My legs quickly began to burn and I felt the first twinge of a stitch coming on. We were emerging from the wood, crossing a broad strip of what had once been lawn but was now a great expanse of nettles. Suddenly I heard a new noise to the left of us and realised that Amber was driving poor Hippolyta through the nettle bed, and at a crazy pace.
The entrance to the stable yard was visible ahead and I tried to strain for more speed but couldn’t, my muscles refusing to give me anything. A dark shape came up in the corner of my eye and then drew level, rushing headlong through the nettles. Something was wrong — the shape black where Hippolyta was pale-skinned. Only when they started to draw ahead in earnest did I realise that the pony was not Hippolyta. In fact, Amber was driving not a pony-girl, but a pony-boy, a tall man who might have been Hippolyta’s brother in looks and was clad head to toe in a black, shiny material.
I knew we were lost and so did Ginny. As we were overtaken all the fight went out of us and we came into the stable yard several yards behind, staggering over the finish line to drop to our knees on the ground. I could hear Michael and Amber arguing but was too tired to care, waiting passively while Matthew detached us from the cart and then laying myself full length on a grassy area in the shade. Ginny joined me, handing me a bottle of water, taking my hand and squeezing it but saying nothing as she too collapsed in exhaustion. Like me, she hadn’t the energy to even take off her bridle, contenting herself with loosening the chin strap and releasing the bit from her mouth.
I closed my eyes and let my body go limp. My legs ached terribly and I was soaked with sweat. If it hadn’t been for a light breeze cooling my skin, I don’t think I’d have been aware that I was naked, and I certainly didn’t care.
After a while, I realised that the others were still arguing. Matthew had joined in and there were two other voices, one male, one female. They weren’t angry, but were having a bizarre discussion of pony-carting etiquette that would have been completely surreal if I hadn’t been involved myself.
The point at issue was not whether it had been acceptable for Amber to change ponies halfway through the race; that would have been far too simple. Instead, Michael was arguing that you couldn’t have a pony-boy in what had been agreed was a pony-girl race. Amber’s response was that if you could switch species in a fantasy then a switch of sex was a relatively minor affair. There were other details, but that was the point they kept coming back to. Actually, it was a pointless argument, as both of them were far too stubborn to give in, regardless of the other’s logic.
‘You cheated, Amber,’ Ginny suddenly called over.
‘Get your clothes off and crawl to my feet. Now!’
‘I’ll deal with you later, Miss Virginia Linslade,’ Amber retorted. She had such a commanding edge to her voice that she would have had me contrite in an instant.
Ginny was less easy to subdue. ‘Amber’s due for a spanking and she doesn’t like it,’ Ginny informed me in a voice loud enough to be heard by everyone. ‘But then, she always did try and squirm out of her punishments. She’ll be obedient enough, once her bum’s warm; you’ll see.’
I opened my eyes and propped myself up on one elbow to see what was happening. Amber was glaring at Ginny with a look that would have had me straight on my knees. Ginny just giggled and stuck her tongue out. Michael and Matthew were standing together, with Hippolyta and the man who had been Amber’s pony-boy to one side. Hippolyta was stark naked and dripping wet, having presumably been hosing herself down. The man, who actually looked like a younger version of Michael, had a rubber body suit rolled down to his waist, exposing a smooth, well-muscled torso. All in all, it was a fine view and was likely to get better, if Amber ended up admitting defeat.
She wasn’t going to and it occurred to me that, unless someone stepped in, the rest of the day was going to be wasted arguing. As nobody else seemed inclined to reach a compromise, it seemed to be up to me. There was also a chance for me to arrange things for my own pleasure.
‘How do you mean, she’ll be obedient enough, once her bottom’s warm?’ I asked Ginny quietly, pulling the bit free of my teeth.
‘What Amber likes when it comes to men,’ Ginny replied, now speaking quietly, ‘and you’re not to tell the boys this, is for them to think she’s being made to take punishment or whatever. That’s why I suggested she be the prize herself; I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist.’
‘I thought she was lesbian?’ I answered.
‘Her lovers have all been women,’ Ginny replied.
‘She’s not completely averse to men, though, under the right circumstances. She’d never normally suck a man off for instance, but find her an excuse and it’s a different matter, especially after a spanking. How do you think she persuaded Anderson to be a pony-boy?’
‘Anderson?’ I asked.
‘Vicky… Hippolyta’s… boyfriend. To get him to do that, I reckon Amber’s had a smacked bum from her and a mouthful of spunk from him, at the least.’
‘You know them then?’
‘Vicky models for Amber. I met Anderson when we were posing together for her catalogue. I’d guessed Vicky would be her pony-girl, but he took me by surprise. If it wasn’t for the fact that she’ll lose her chance to play with you, she’d have backed down by now. Reluctantly, and with no end of fuss, but she’d have done it.’
‘I actually rather want to be hers, tomorrow,’ I answered.
‘Go and do something about it, then. She’ll take a punishment, if you suggest it.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘I’ve known her for years, Penny. She’d love to be punished in front of everyone, but she’d never ask for it, especially not from the men.’
I sat up and loosened my bridle, undoing the straps as I walked over to them. Amber turned to me as I approached. ‘What do you t
hink, Penny?’ she asked.
‘I think we should compromise,’ I answered.
Amber nodded and Michael looked relieved; now, neither of them had to back down.
‘We lost,’ I continued. ‘I’d like to be Amber’s pony-girl for a day anyway, so it’s really my choice, isn’t it?’
Amber smiled warmly; Michael opened his mouth to say something and then thought better of it.
‘But,’ I said, ‘Amber did break the rules of the race. Not the spirit, though, and so to compromise I think she ought to be punished but to choose her own punishment.’
Michael looked doubtful and then began to smile, as did Matthew. Anderson gave an amused chuckle; Vicky nodded approval.
Amber didn’t answer but turned to me with her mouth slightly open. ‘I… All right,’ she answered. ‘Let me think about it for a bit while you lot have a hose down.’
She went to sit on her cart, chin in her hand. Having a hose down seemed an excellent idea. I stripped off my harness and took the hose, the others watching as I made a big show of washing myself. It wasn’t long before Ginny joined me, naked and with a bar of coarse soap. Inevitably, she couldn’t keep her hands to herself and was soon soaping my back, occasionally letting her hands sneak down to my bottom. I felt my familiar pang of guilt but relaxed and gave no resistance when her arms went around me and she cupped my breasts in her hands. The hose fell to the ground and curled back on itself, running cool water over my feet as Ginny explored my breasts.
I let her play with them, squeezing gently and pinching my nipples between her fingers and thumbs. Not having too much in the way of tits, I had always had a sneaking fascination with large-breasted girls. Ginny’s were pressed against my back, naked and wet.
I wanted to touch them, but felt a bit shy with everyone watching. Strangely, it’s a lot easier to show off when I’m tied up or being given orders.
What Ginny was doing to my nipples was driving me wild. I gave in, reasoning that if I could be caned in front of four people then I could play with another girl’s breasts in front of six. I turned and hugged her, getting a warm response. She kissed me and drew back a little, leaving her lovely breasts right in front of me and clearly available. I swallowed and reached out, touching the smooth curve of one globe of pink flesh. She sighed and pursed her lips as my finger brushed a nipple, pushing her chest out to offer them to me.
I complied and was soon having a good feel of Ginny’s heavy round breasts. I took one in each hand, weighing them and stroking her nipples with my thumbs. She had put her hands on her head and closed her eyes, letting me play without hindrance. I took my fill, exploring her and feeling my own excitement rising with hers.
Everybody was watching us and, I imagine, hoping we’d go further, but I didn’t feel ready for it. Not that I didn’t enjoy the idea of full sex with Ginny; but it was just a bit too public and somehow the atmosphere wasn’t perfect. Besides, I wanted to see what Amber would choose for her punishment.
‘Another time,’ I whispered, letting go of her breasts and picking up the hose to wash the last suds off.
She made a small sound of disappointment but gave me an understanding look. I stepped away, suddenly feeling chilled as the water evaporated. Matthew threw me a towel and I was still drying myself when Amber got to her feet. I was wondering what she would choose. Ginny had suggested that she liked to suck men’s cocks. Despite my desire to be under her control, the idea of seeing her on her knees with Matthew’s penis in her mouth appealed to me. Seeing her spanked would be just as good, though. She might even ask to be passed around for spankings, and I’d get a turn myself. Would I dare? The idea of taking Amber across my knee and pulling down her jodhpurs and knickers was outrageous but immensely exciting, let alone the thought of actually smacking her bottom.
She had walked into the centre of the yard and was standing with her hands on her hips. The expression on her face was anything but meek and I began to wonder if she was just going to call the whole thing off.
‘Well, boys,’ she began, looking pointedly at Matthew and Michael. ‘What would you like to do to me? Each of you, and the girls too: we mustn’t play favourites, must we?’
Matthew looked slightly abashed but Michael gave his coolest smile and steepled his fingers. ‘I’d like you as my pony-girl: the full role, of course,’ he answered her, quite unaffected by her tone of voice, which I could see was carefully calculated to embarrass them.
‘Fair enough,’ she answered. ‘Matthew?’
‘The same for me,’ Matthew answered, following Michael’s lead.
‘Ginny?’ Amber asked.
‘I’m going to sit on your face, Miss Amber Oakley, till you make me come,’ Ginny replied.
‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ Amber retorted.
‘Anderson?’
‘A difficult choice,’ he answered, smiling thoughtfully.
‘I have often felt you would make a good pony-girl but, if you’re going to do that anyway, then I’ll take my pleasure from watching. Then I think I’d like to bugger you, if that’s OK?’
‘Fine,’ Amber replied, although I noticed Vicky smack Anderson’s arm. Amber was being far too nonchalant and I think everybody realised it, but we were all too interested to see what she was leading up to.
‘Vicky?’ Amber continued, looking sweetly at the tall girl.
‘Well, you drove me pretty hard,’ she answered, ‘but, if Anderson’s going to insist on being such a dirty bastard, I suppose I shouldn’t be too hard on you. I’ll have a sixty-nine, I think, with me on top.’
‘Thank you,’ Amber went on. ‘Penny?’
‘I, er…’ I began. It was hard to choose, especially when they all seemed so much more experienced and confident than me. Still, there were one or two interesting fantasies I’d built up on the odd occasions when I’d masturbated over the thought of sex with another woman. OK, so in my fantasies I was always on the receiving end, but the opportunity was too good to miss. If she went for it — not that I was at all sure she would — then she was going to be a pony-girl anyway, as Anderson had said. If I asked for my pussy licked, I’d just look as if I was following the other girls. Ginny had suggested that she liked to be humiliated and so one option presented itself.
‘Actually, I’d like to pee on you,’ I said, trying to keep my voice as matter-of-fact as the others had been.
‘You would, would you?’ Amber retorted. She looked flustered for the first time and I saw that I’d hit a soft spot, especially as Ginny had started laughing. ‘Good,’ she continued, ‘well, you’re going to get what you want: or one of you is. You’re going to draw straws for it, five short and one long, and I promise to take my punishment from whoever gets the long straw.’
She walked away to find a suitable length of grass. I had been dressing and was still doing my blouse up when Ginny approached, also dressed. ‘She’ll cheat,’ Ginny confided in me quietly. ‘Just watch, Vicky or I will win. As for your idea, I can guarantee she’ll take it out on you tomorrow, just for suggesting it.’
‘That’s why I said it,’ I admitted.
‘You’re a disgrace and a manipulative little tart,’ she replied, giving my bottom a playful slap.
‘I know,’ I answered.
Amber had chosen a tall grass stem and was methodically breaking it into pieces. I knew that the next twenty-four hours were going to see me seriously put through my paces and determined to make it even worse for myself.
‘Someone else should draw the straws,’ I announced.
‘That way Amber couldn’t be accused of cheating and there’ll be no argument.’
Everyone agreed with me, except Amber herself, who gave me an absolutely filthy look. She reluctantly passed the straws to Vicky, who took them and shuffled them in her hand. Personally, I was hoping she’d get Anderson; partially because I wanted to see her lovely bottom fucked and partly because it was sure to mean my own wouldn’t go empty the next day.
Vicky went firs
t, drawing a straw from her own hand and taking a short one. Anderson followed and did the same, then Vicky held her hand out to me. The four pieces of grass stem were almost indistinguishable, but not quite. Those from lower down were just a tiny bit thicker. It seemed reasonable to me that she would have broken off five equal lengths to leave a long one, which was therefore going to be one end or the other and probably the lower end. That meant that the thickest straw would be the long one. I picked, pulling my choice slowly up. Sure enough, it kept coming and I was holding the long straw.
‘No!’ Amber exclaimed, but it was obvious that her horror was put on.
Ginny was laughing, Michael grinning, and the others exchanging looks of amusement and pleasure.
‘OK,’ Amber sighed in mock resignation. ‘How do you want me?’
‘Have her keep her clothes on,’ Ginny suggested.
‘Do you have a change?’ I asked.
‘Yes,’ Amber sighed, ‘I’ve got things in the cab.’
‘Then take your bra off under your blouse,’ I ordered.
We watched as she unclipped her bra and extracted it down a sleeve. There was a knot of tension forming in my throat, but very different from the one I’d felt when I was about to be caned. This was pure excitement and, for the first time, I felt a flush of what could only have been sadistic pleasure. Amber’s nipples showed through her top, dark under the white cotton, and erect.
