by Trent Evans
Kurt grinned, extending a hand. “George! Goddamn, it’s good — ah, I mean, sir.” Kurt cleared his throat. “Great to have you here, sir.”
“Quit it with that ‘sir’ bullshit, Kurt. Out here, it’s just me.” The gold of George’s cufflink flashed in the sunlight as he shook Kurt’s hand. Then he indicated his companion. “This is my wife, Elaina.”
“George couldn’t wait to get me out to meet you,” she said, shaking Kurt’s hand. “I can’t believe what you’ve done with this place.”
“I think we might have met once before,” Kurt said, his mouth quirking. “At the last Retreat? I — well, maybe I’m thinking of someone else.”
Her blush managed to be both subtle and charming, and she looked to her husband. “I was … indisposed.”
“It’s possible. She was a busy girl, that weekend.” George’s lips curled in a half smile, inclining his head toward his wife.
Her blush deepening, she nodded, raising her gaze to Derek, despite her embarrassment. “Are you the new man we’ve heard so much about?”
Derek exchanged glances with Kurt.
“I’m sorry, Derek. This is George and Elaina Trask.” Kurt’s gaze hardened a split second. “Quinton’s parents.”
Derek felt a flash of anger, followed by a tense unease. Just the mention of Quinton’s name reminded him of what Kurt had told him to expect. He wasn’t looking forward to what might happen. Not one bit.
But he plastered on his best faux smile and shook both their hands. He noted the softness of Elaina’s skin, and the giant ruby studding the band on her right ring finger. “I — I guess I’m the new man, all right. I’m — hell, I have no idea what I’m doing here. But yeah, I’m Derek York. It’s nice to meet you.”
She flashed her smile again, and Derek took an instant liking to the warm, attractive woman. He even managed to keep his eyes on hers and not on her blatantly exposed cleavage.
That’s a first, Sir Pervsalot.
“So who’s the new competition, George?” Kurt leaned an arm over the railing. “I didn’t know you even paid attention to these events.”
“I don’t, but lately I’ve been … intrigued. I’ve heard a lot of good things about the … plans, for this place.” George’s eyes met his wife’s for a moment. “So, I decided to investigate. Was nice to get away from all the rain and gloom anyway.”
“New girl, then?” Kurt snorted. “I half expected you to say Quinton was racing one.”
“He is.”
Kurt’s lips tightened to a thin line. “Oh, I see. That’s fine, of course.”
George smiled, shaking his head. “But he’s not the only one.”
“He’s … not?”
Derek watched Elaina’s throat work as she swallowed.
“No, I’m entering a filly, too.” George took Elaina’s hand, guiding her to stand between the three men. “She’ll do well, I think — with a little training.”
“You — your wife?” Kurt pursed his lips, glancing from Elaina then back to George. “We — I’d have to outfit her, like the others. I could try to get them to make an exception …”
“Oh no,” George said, with a quick shake of his head. “She’ll go in just like the rest. No exceptions. She’s been before — though it’s been a few years. I know she’ll get up to speed in no time though.”
“Ah, okay. I’ll see to getting her added to Kort’s list. I was just about to go see him anyway.”
George produced a set of leather manacles from his suit pocket, and made Elaina present her hands. “Shall we have your man take her in then? I’m sure she needs to be harnessed up and all that, yes?”
“I — well, Lino’s already in the stables with Breanna.”
“Ha! How is he? I knew he’d be a perfect fit for something like this. Matches his unique … talents.” George looked to Derek, cinching the manacles tight and holding up Elaina’s bound wrists. Her face had gone quite pale. “Care to escort this filly back to the evil Spaniard, Mr. York? I’m sure he’ll love having two little victims to work on at once.”
Derek looked to Kurt, who nodded, raising an eyebrow.
“Great!” George clapped a hand to Kurt’s shoulder, his expression darkening. “There’s just a couple of things we should talk about though. Before they get this thing started.”
“Oh,” Kurt gave Derek a quick glance, and waved him on. “Well, we’ve got time before the first one starts. What can I do for you?”
Derek didn’t hear the rest though as the two men walked away along the railing, George gesticulating urgently as he talked.
Elaina made a soft sound, and he looked at her, suddenly feeling sheepish. “I’m sorry. I — I can let you go by yourself, if you know how to get back to the stables.”
The woman gave him a small smile, and clasped his forearm with her bound hands. “I’m afraid I don’t. And I’d much rather have some company, if you don’t mind.”
“Of — of course.”
Then, feeling like a horse’s ass, and trying to ignore the stirring between his legs at the swell of her hips in the tight skirt, he grasped her upper arm, guiding her along as he walked her toward the stable block.
* * *
They found Lino in the harnessing area, Breanna’s arms stretched skyward by a length of chain, the balls of her booted feet just touching the dusty floorboards. Derek led Elaina in behind him, Breanna’s blue eyes watching, her brows knit.
“Miss Elaina,” Lino said from behind the panting Breanna. He finished with the last lace at the small of her back, the black leather of Breanna’s harness reaching from the tops of her hips all the way to her thick collar. Her heavy breasts, fully exposed by cutouts in the harness, rested on quarter cups that separated and lifted the globes, the nipples already hard, her smooth ivory skin a striking contrast to the light-absorbing blackness of the leather.
“You know her?” Derek looked back at the impassive, pale, face of Elaina then back to Lino.
“Oh yes.” Lino beckoned with a hand. “Bring her here. You finish with our fulana.”
Sensing just the hint of reluctance in Elaina’s body, Derek held up her manacled hands for the Spaniard. “Sounds like she’s racing too.”
“Much to do then.” Lino took her manacles in a tanned hand, using them to turn Elaina in place, looking her up and down. He dropped his voice. “Lower your eyes, Miss Elaina.”
“What are we, ah, doing here?”
Derek wanted to snatch his words out of the air, the stupidity of them almost physically painful.
“Watch closely, Mr. Derek.” Lino tugged Elaina over to the back wall of the harnessing area, then pointed at the dull black of the cast iron hook mounted high on the wall. “Hands up, Miss Elaina.”
She froze, looking at Lino then up at the hook.
Lino’s hand slapped her skirt-clad bottom, the sound surprisingly sharp. She yelped with it, then reached up toward the hook. “I — I can’t.”
“Higher. Yes, you can do it.” Lino gripped the cuffs, hauling them up the last inch to hang over the hook. The constricted flesh shone white as the leather dug into her delicate hands.
Lino turned to Derek. “You see this?” The Spaniard’s finger tapped Elaina’s wrist, her hands already darkening as they became congested with blood. “This is not right way to secure slaves. Dangerous for joints, circulation.” Lino flashed his wolfen grin. “But for short minute, it puts filly’s mind where it belongs.”
“Let her down then, Lino. Jesus.”
The Spaniard held up a finger, giving him a slight shake of his head, the dark curls of his hair moving. “Wait.”
He moved to the cabinet, opening it with a creak of the hinge.
Elaina’s breath came quickly, her ribcage heaving, one of her heels falling askew as she balanced on the balls of her feet.
“Derek, she’s not—”
He pressed his finger to Breanna’s lips. “It’s okay.”
He’d never seen Lino go too far yet. Not really.
He didn’t know why, but Derek was willing to give the stern trainer the benefit of the doubt. He trusted that Lino wouldn’t truly hurt Elaina.
Not quite.
Lino closed the cabinet and turned to Elaina, a gleam of metal in his hand.
A knife?
“Holy shit!” Derek strode forward, laying a hand on the Spaniard’s shoulder. “Lino what the fuck are you doing?”
“Relax, Mr. Derek.” Lino looked at the hand on his shoulder, then locked eyes with Derek. “Filly won’t be hurt. Watch.”
Derek dropped his hand, cursing softly. “I can’t believe I’m letting you do this.”
Elaina stilled, seeming to press herself to the plane of the wall, her legs trembling. She whimpered as the blade slipped under the thin fabric of the neckline of her blouse.
The chains still suspending Breanna’s arms clinked together as she turned. Derek stroked her neck to comfort her, though his eyes stayed riveted to the scene playing out against the wall.
The sharp blade slit through the fabric effortlessly, the two halves of the garment falling away to either side. The long lines of Elaina’s body quivered like a leaf in the breeze, Lino murmuring softly to her, urging her to be still.
Lino tugged the destroyed blouse clear, letting it slip to the floorboards. Elaina’s ribcage moved with her quickened breathing.
The blade caught the light, flashing, as Lino inserted it carefully into his boot, dropping to a knee to draw down the zipper of Elaina’s skirt. Soon the tight skirt and a skimpy pair of pink lace panties joined the tattered blouse on the floor.
“Yes, yes.” Lino stood up, stepping back to peruse Elaina’s charms. “I have heard stories about this culo. They were right, Mr. Derek.”
Elaina’s lithe back swept down to a narrow waist, the hips swelling pleasingly, the buttocks plump, heavy. Despite being in her late forties herself, the flesh was still practically smooth, with only the slightest dimpling at the upper thighs.
Lino’s hand smacked one ass cheek, then the other, the soft flesh bouncing under his palm.
Derek stroked his hand over Breanna’s exposed breasts, and she sighed, leaning into his touch. His cock stirred immediately, and he smiled at her, his thumb tracing the hardness of one of her long nipples, pinching it at just the tip, making her suck in a breath through her teeth.
“Yes, muy bella, Ms. Elaina.” Lino reached up and pulled her wrists down from the hook to a relieved murmur from his charge. He brought her bound hands up, placing them on the wall.
“Lean against the wall. Legs out.” The trainer tapped her lush thigh, and she shuffled her legs backward. “More. Ankles together.”
Then the Spaniard clamped a veined, tanned hand onto her pale shoulder, holding her fast. He placed the flat of his other hand against the broad expanse of her bottom, bringing it back and slapping her harshly, holding his hand against her ass a moment, her buttocks clenching.
“No. Keep loose, Ms. Elaina. No clench.”
Her head dropped, but she obeyed him. His hand palmed the buttocks again, sighting the next blow, and he smacked her once more, the sound like a pistol-shot in the stillness of the building.
Breanna jerked at the sound, Derek’s hands fondling her breasts, comforting her even as he watched the strict trainer working Elaina over.
Again Lino’s hand cracked down, and Derek watched fascinated as Elaina’s buttocks rippled, their soft weight jiggling as the trainer spanked one cheek then the other, pausing between blows with a grin to take in the movement of the broad bottom. Two bright hand prints were visible on the pale buttocks, the color darkening by the second.
“Color is good, yes?” Lino winked at Derek. “She needs toughening. Mr. George is soft with her.”
Lino pressed against Elaina, his palm pushing between her shoulder blades until she hugged herself to the wall. He retrieved a harness from his cabinet, Derek feeling Breanna’s body tense as the door swung wide, revealing all manner of instruments of restraint and pain.
The Spaniard clasped Elaina in a cruel harness of leather and chain, constricting her body and emphasizing her bombshell figure all at once. A leather waist cincher squeezed her breathlessly tight, a strap running up the trough of her spine to attach at the rear of a stiff leather collar. Lino turned Elaina, lifting her breasts in his hands.
“For fillies with big tetas like these, you must secure them for racing.”
Derek bounced Breanna’s big breasts in his palms, pressing his lips to her ear, chuckling in a low voice. “Tetas. I like that word.”
Lino stretched a web of thin chain down from the front of Elaina’s collar, attaching the links at the heavy silver ring that nestled at the base of her throat. The chain formed a criss-cross pattern over her chest, and the trainer pulled each breast through holes in the pattern. The fit was tight indeed, and each globe stood up tight and proud, the metal links indenting the soft, vulnerable flesh.
Lino threw two leather straps to Derek. “Attach to fulana’s harness.”
The straps threaded through rings at each side of Breanna’s rib cage, and Derek brought them up and over each breast, connecting them to a common ring nestled in her cleavage. He hauled them tight, and Breanna sucked in a sharp breath. Her breasts tightened, the nipples gathering to prominent hard points.
Elaina whimpered as Lino’s fingers pinched her nipple, pulling it harshly. From his pocket, Lino produced two silver clamps, quickly crushing first one, then the other nipple in the grip of the tight metal. Elaina’s breathing came in little pants, her brow furrowed, teeth worrying her lower lip.
Derek saw a glint of silver in Lino’s hand as his fingers worked at the clamps. The Spaniard stepped back with a grin. “Much better.” His finger extended, flicking the little golden bells he’d attached to her clamps. Her cheeks colored and she looked away.
“Should we get you your own little bells, Breanna? Hmm?” Derek worried her soft earlobe with his teeth, the pinch and twist of his fingers at her tender nipples drawing a pained groan from her.
Lino’s hand slapped Elaina’s thigh. “Spread.” His hand reached between her legs and pulled a thick strap through from the front.
“Holy crap,” Derek breathed, seeing the twin phalluses built into the leather. One was thicker and longer than the other, but even the smaller one was large indeed, easily the size of a well-endowed man. Lino, retrieved a small jar from one of the shelves along the back wall, spinning off the lid and dipping a finger inside.
“She will need lubrication at first.” Lino nodded toward Elaina. “But with time, their bodies will adjust to the saddle strap.”
“What is that shit?”
Breanna became very, very still.
Lino held up his glistening finger. “This? Will make filly’s step high. Ginger oil and little cinnamon.”
Derek watched, fascinated, as Lino spread the lubricant over the two phalluses until the black rubber shone wet with it. Fingers splaying the thick labia of Elaina’s sex, Lino fitted the larger phallus into her. She panted, a high pitched whimper coming from lips pressed tightly together.
“Here, use this,” Lino said, holding out a phallus studded saddle strap to Derek. Breanna shuddered at the sight of it.
Derek kissed her cheek, whispering to her. “Are you ready for this, Breanna? It’ll be a snug fit in that tight little pussy of yours, but I think you should wear it. Be brave for me.”
A quiet, pained whine came from Elaina, Lino whispering to her as he worked the smaller phallus steadily into her ass.
Derek lowered the chains that pinioned Breanna's arms, pressing kisses to her hands as he rubbed the circulation back into them. She smiled her gratitude, her lowered lashes brushing over flushed cheeks. Taking up the strap, Derek fed it through the anchor point at the front of Breanna's harness, bringing it between the silky inner thighs.
"Bend over for me, Breanna."
Her breath caught at the command, but she obeyed, the loose chains, which still held her arms, if much low
er, jingling together.
"Such a beautiful pussy," Derek said, his voice low, his cock throbbing at the sight of the wetness glistening between the swollen labia. His fingers tested that liquid, gathering it, and he used it to moisten the hard rubber of each phallus.
"Just try to relax, Breanna." He stroked three fingers into her sex, driving deep, looking to acclimate her as much as possible. His fingers played with her cervix a moment, and she jerked in her chains with a surprised moan. She stilled as the blunt head of the phallus spread her lips wide, and he eased it forward.
"That's a girl. This is big, so we'll go slow." His finger spread her moisture over the hard nodule of her clitoris, working it vigorously, as her pussy took more of the black rubber phallus.
"We'll take as much time as we need, but you're taking every inch of this before you set foot on that track. There you go, be a good girl now."
Breanna’s thighs trembled, and she stamped a foot as the last inch disappeared within her soaking pussy. Derek’s fingers felt the labia, thinned by the stretching of the broad phallus.
“I don’t … know… if I can…” Breanna said, voice breathless.
“You can do this, Breanna.” Derek planted a wet kiss on the crown of one buttock, his hand palming the overfilled sex, savoring the heat of her arousal. “Your pussy is so full. So stretched — but I know it’s what you want. And I know it’s what you need.”
Touching the tip of the smaller phallus to the dusky flesh of Breanna’s anus, Derek smiled at her sharp intake of breath.
“Oh, I didn’t forget this sweet little ass either, Breanna. I can’t wait to see it stretched around this plug too. Then we’ll buckle your strap tight for you.”
His fingers gathered more of her wetness, even as it collected around the thick invader stoppering her vagina. He spread more of it over the whorl of her anus, and moistened the plug well.
