The PonyGirl Polo Match Pt. 03

CHAPTER 18: THE SPOILS OF VICTORY

*

After the match between the Caballeras Azuls and the Jaguars, Don Hernan threw a party on the lawn beside the Hacienda.

This was intended to be a relaxed affair; champagne and an elegant buffet served by waitresses wearing nothing more than toe boots and steel collars. However, there was a definite undercurrent of tension as a result of the home team's defeat.

The players were invited, the visiting players all appearing in their jaguar skin bikinis and boots, heeled this time to add to the allure of their powerful bodies as they strutted around the gathering with their leashed, muzzled charges (perhaps best described as 'petgirls') crawling at their sides.

The loosing players attended too in their blue leather bolero bustiers and tiny ultratight shorts but did not take part, kneeling with their ponies in a line to one side, the ponies still in full harness and bridle, hooded again (if they'd ever been released), arms restrained behind them in the triangular training sheaths.

There was no sign of Carmen, the seconds' captain, and I suspected her evening would be considerably less pleasant.

Bruises on the kneeling girl's breasts, players and ponies, suggested they had already been chastised and, I suspected probably would be again; the players would most likely be punished as much as the ponies once extracted from their leather clothes.

Goose and I were re-introduced to Don Carlos who was at least twenty years older than Don Hernan; with his receding white hair but radiated a youthful sparkle with the elation of his victory. The Cabelleras Azuls was the top team in the Club and, for an upcoming side like his, to beat them, even the second team was a triumph. He flirted gently with the Goose, who was dressed this evening in a sleeveless pink linen blouse, white miniskirt and heeled boots; to my surprise, she flirted back. He showed quite an interest in the village and the pony race to the point of suggesting that perhaps he could enter a 'mare' in the coming year's race.

Goose agreed to put it to the committee and, before I knew it, they were swapping email addresses and phone numbers.

*

The early evening entertainment was provided by Barbie in the form of one of her dressage routines. Prancing in her dress harness between the shafts of a borrowed gig, the huge breasted blonde drew quite a crowd as she performed under the direction of Charles' whip. The kinky trollop was clearly pulling out all the stops, exchanging her usual purple for 'azul' and wearing a corset that I would swear was at least two inches smaller that her usual dressage girdle, giving her what was literally and hour-glass figure and further emphasing her huge chest and the flare of her hips and lovely round bottom. She wore a tail too that danced like her hair, perhaps demonstrating to the assembled company that, like the Caballeras' cheerleaders, she was there as eye-candy. Her clit and nipple bells jangled above the backing music as she moved, hooded and utterly obedient to the whip and her single clit rein, thighs rising like pistons, feet en-point. I was pretty sure she was stuffed with huge dildo too like the one I'd seen after she'd performed in Mares-de-Launce at my first pony race.

After this, it was Rubber Dolly's turn, negotiating a hastily constructed obstacle course which was not all that different to some of the training courses the ponies at the Hacienda used. The sexy brunette performed beautifully although it was a few years since she'd entered the field events, marking time, with perfect knee lifts and reversing and jumping on command; she looked gorgeous between the shafts of Reuben's gig but from the bruises on her skin was clear she'd suffered a lot of abuse, most of it I suspected from the stablemistress. There seemed barely a square inch of flesh on her usually perfect white skin that wasn't scratched or bruised and I'd heard rumours that, after the incident with the river mud, Juanita had driven the sultry mare back and forth through a thicket of brambles until she'd been so exhausted, she ended up helplessly tangled in them and had to be cut free. The stablemistress had then punished her for such weakness with a pussy whipping before spending the night enjoying the lovely brunette's new tongue stud while dripping hot wax all over the helpless beauty's breasts and nipples.

Reuben, it seemed was entirely happy with this arrangement and, after the match I seen him off to take a tumble in the hay with a fully harnessed ponyboy. It seemed that Reuben and the lovely Miss Carter had a very open relationship; although, of course Bryony and I were enjoying a similar degree of freedom here in Argentina; an opportunity to sow our wild oats as it were. Bryony I knew, as well as sleeping with PLT's head between her thighs was being passed among the coaches and established ponies all eager to enjoy her (to them) exotic charms and considerable oral skills. By all accounts, it was role she was thoroughly enjoying and, I'd heard, when not being made to munch, lick or suck pussy my fiancee was confronted with a line of ponyboys and stable hands eager to experience her willingness to make her various orifices available to them.

It's as well I'm not a jealous man and that I had the distraction of free and ready access to nubile ponies, kinky players and horny dancers.

*

I think some of the crowd were a little perplexed by the fact that the dressage and obstacle course were events in themselves and not training for something more significant. Cream tried to explain but I'm not sure it cut much ice. However, as Reuben, recently returned from his tryst with the ponyboy, drove Rubber Dolly off the course, Juanita stopped him.

'How difficult can it be?' She asked, almost elbowing him out of the gig in her haste to have a little more whip time with the helpless brunette between the shafts.

Rubber Dolly seemed confused for a moment but, obedient little mare that she was, trotted back onto the course with Juanita's whip slashing across her buttocks.

'Come on you worthless cunny slit!' Jacintha called, presumably dispelling any doubt in the sultry mare's mind, if any existed, as to who was driving her so brutally.

To be fair, Juanita made a pretty good fist of it though her technique was a little rough and, on a couple of occasions, I think, Rubber Dolly was deliberately difficult. It reminded me of Camilla's comment about taming a polo pony.

When Rubber Dolly trotted off the course clearly exhausted from her double performance, Juanita was clearly exerting her control by holding the lovely mare's clit rein eyewateringly tight as she lashed her mercilessly forward. When they got back to the stables, I guessed Rubber dolly was in for a hell of a night.

Whatever the crowd thought of our village entertainment, Don Hernan applauded loudly and everyone accordingly joined in.

As before, he seemed particularly taken with Barbie and, putting his arm around Charles lead him off for a quiet discussion leaving me literally holding the reins.

Barbie might be pushing fifty but she was nearly as hot close up as she was in the dressage arena. Standing next to me in her on her toes, body corseted and head upright, her posture enforced by the tight bondage of her arms and a punishing high neck stock, she looked like the perfect (ponified) sex doll. She was a woman who clearly looked after herself and the breast implants stretched her skin giving her bare breasts a surprisingly youthful look, I'm pretty sure she's had something done to her bottom too. I couldn't help patting it gentle.

'Gog!' She said through her gag, a simple bit rather than the usual huge ball gags she customarily wore. 'I'm sho gugging horny!'

She rubbed her thighs together.

She smelt of sweat and sexual arousal.

Cassie was right; her mother was a slut.

Then I heard a sound, a soft buzzing.

It was coming from Barbie.

I couldn't resist pressing my hand against her belly and then sliding it down.

Her whole belly was quivering and, as I probed between her legs feeling passed the rein clipped to her clit, I could feel something hard vibrating; it was big too, bulging through her labia which were stretched around it; tiny chains between the piercing rings holding it in place; some sort of sex toy stuffed into her vagina; she must have had a hell of a time performing her dressage.

'Gugg!' She said swaying slightly. 'I shing I'm going do gum!'

She swayed more violently, panting around her gag the bells dangling from her swollen rouged nipples tinkling.

'I'm going do be sho bunished!' She was clearly excited by the prospect. 'He'll probably keeb me lige sthis all nighg now.'

The buzzing stopped abruptly and Charles reappeared.

I removed my hand from between Barbie's legs. She was panting furiously, nostrils flaring inside the hood almost as much as they had done when she'd finished her performance.

'Remote controlled vibrator.' Charles held out a little silver disk with two buttons on it. 'Perhaps you should get one for Bryony.'

'I might do that.' I said smiling as I handed Barbie's rein back to her owner.

'With a bit of practice, you'll be able to keep her edged for hours.' He winked. 'You should have seen last time we went to the opera. She was panting like she'd run the Mares' race.'

I didn't doubt it.

'Why two buttons?' I had to ask.

'There's a vibrator in her tail plug too.'

'Ngggg!' Barbie squeaked loudly shaking her head as much as she was able in the high neck corset.

A few heads turned in our direction.

'She does love to be the centre of attention.' Charles laughed. 'Come along darling.' He turned his attention to the frustrated mare. 'Another hour or two and you'll be ready for what I have in mind.'

He tugged on her leash and she followed him obediently, walking with perfect balance on her toes, hips swaying and nipple bells clinking gently.

***

We watched the sun set over the mountains which cast the Hacienda and it's field into shadow long before the plain below us. The floodlights came on and then there was dancing on a wooden platform laid out for the purpose; more paso-dobles and Argentine tangos. As before, these involved girls in flimsy skirts and tight corsets, the flash of stocking tops and the promise of more. There was another slave girl dancing too, not Saher, sadly but just and beautiful and deliciously voluptuous in this world of trim ponies.

As well as the classic Spanish dances, performed a belly dance, clicking finger cymbals between her fingers and somehow shaking nipple bells in time to the music.

As she performed, I asked Don Hernan about Saher.

'Did she not tell you?' He asked, somewhat surprised.

'Tell me?'

'She is denied.' He paused for a moment as if thinking that he may have used the wrong English word although his English was perfect. 'Being... prepared for her next... performance. Some women exist purely for the pleasure of men and they are best saved... until they are truly desirous of providing that pleasure.'

I looked at him feeling rather confused.

'Saher is kept under a strict regime.' He continued, clearly rather enjoying the explanation now he had embarked on it. 'Teased regularly... constantly, but very firmly denied.' The fact that she the denial referred to sexual climax was obvious from his expression. 'I think by now she will be allowed four hours to sleep in the night, in a week or two it will be less than an hour. The rest of her time will be spent dancing, training to give pleasure or... being pleasured; often all at once.'

He smiled, clearly amused.

'The lovely Saher has a implant on the vagus nerve.' His fingers brushed the side of his neck. 'I believe it is used normally to prevent epileptic seizures, the discharges in the nerve alerting a device implanted in the body to stimulate the nerve and avert a seizure. I am told that arousal builds through the vagus nerve too and, it fires repeatedly just before orgasm. In Saher's case, the device fires and calms the nerve a few moments before orgasm.'

I stared at him.

'When the device is active, she can be constantly stimulated but always denied orgasm. When she is ready to be used, the device is turned off. She is allowed her one night of pleasure a month.' His smile became cruel. 'As that time approaches, her screams of frustration can sometimes be heard through the whole of the complex no matter how securely she is gagged. Tahali there...' He nodded towards the belly dancer. 'Has a similar implant. She also has takes the same pleasure from the anal beads...' He added with a wink.

Don Hernan seemed to have a way of finding out every secret in the Hacienda.

'And tonight...?' I asked looking at the voluptuous brunette swinging her long hair and thrusting her hips forward suggestively. As she turned, I was sure I could see the tip of her anal beads.

Don Hernan smiled. 'Tonight it is Tahali's turn. I would offer her to you, Miguel, but courtesy dictates I give Don Carlos first refusal and I'm sure he will accept.'

'Of course.' I said rather quietly.

'There are advantages to being part of the oldest and most powerful family in the new world.'

He slipped an olive into his mouth and turned away.

*

Goose and I were preparing to leave when Don Carlos called me over. He was standing among his players, and their leashed, muzzled ponygirls, or petgirls or whatever they were who knelt obediently at their mistresses' sides. His wife stood beside him holding Tahali, the belly dancer, leashed by a nipple ring and teasing the girl's other nipple as she waited for her husband to say his goodnights.

Looking carefully at her neck just below the bottom of the dancing girl's collar, I thought I could see a faint scar.

'Perhaps one of my Jaguars takes your fancy?' He said to me with a smile. 'And you, Senorita Goose?'

They were magnificent, players and ponygirls; I would have no idea how to begin choosing one.

'Perhaps this one will suit.' He said gesturing to a girl with the number '6' on her collar.

They would all have suited me, superb athletes, kneeling with their backs straight and their heads up, shoulders pulled back and their little breasts thrust out, their nipple rings glinting in the torchlight; their tattooed bodies exotic, naked save boots and mitted hands held behind their backs now, and the collars locked around their necks, muzzled beasts.

I'd have quite happily bedded one of the big busted Amazons who held their leashes.

Don Carlos held out his hand and the player holding 'Six', handed him the girl's leash.

Don Carlos passed the leash to me and I took it, the kneeling girl dropping forward onto her mitted hands to crawl beside me muzzled, naked; her tail hanging just short of the ground. Like the boots, I saw that the leather mitts were designed to turn her hands into paws, the long fingernails painted black and filed to claws.

It was going to be an interesting night.

*

'Six' padded beside me as I walked back to my room then knelt back and slid her hands behind her back, once again adopting the straight-backed kneeling position with her legs spread wide and her head up, eyes focussed ahead. She might be obedient but there was an arrogance in her posture..

Closer up, I could see the girl was wearing contact lenses that made her pupils into the vertical slits of a cat's and as I removed her muzzle I saw there were bars piercing the cartilage of her ears elongating them almost to a point at the top. The muzzle was fitted with a huge plug and, as I drew it out of her mouth, I saw that her canines, top and bottom, were filed down to fangs; shining white and polished; she ran her red tongue over them and licked her lips.

I asked her name; feeling more comfortable in Spanish after a week.

'Six.' She said

I thought she hadn't understood and asked again.

'I am six.' She said in English, lifting her head to showing me her dog (cat) tag.

'Ok.' I shrugged and turned to remove my boots.

It was at that moment she sprang, hitting me from behind, knocking me to the floor and pinning me down.

I cried out and tried to shake her off but she held firm and suddenly, I felt an excruciating pain in my shoulder that made me cry out. It took me a moment to realise that she had sunk her teeth into me. I felt her hands coming underneath me, and remembered her 'claws'.

My right arm was pinned but my left was free and I swung my elbow back catching the side of her head and knocking her off; she rolled and came up into a crouch, smiling, blood on her teeth.

I watched her lick them with her pink tongue.

Then she sprang again.

At least I was ready this time but the force of her attack knocked me onto my back and she crouched over me, her weight again pinning me, thighs spread across my own, grinning before lifting her head to roar triumphantly and ripping my shirt open with her claws.

Common sense screamed in my ear that I should throw her off but I was strangely mesmerised by her, by the way she smiled as she looked at my chest. She lowered her head and I tensed at the thought she might bite me again but, instead, she ran her tongue over my chest.

Then, she lifted her head, smiling triumphantly, blood still in her mouth, mine, red against her white teeth; her face flushed, her breathing rapid; as she regarded me with her strange cat-like eyes.

Slowly she leaned forward, lowering her head again her mouth close to mine; I could smell her breath, warm and tinged with the scent of blood.

Then she kissed me, and I tasted blood, metallic even as I felt the warmth of her wash over me. Her tongue thrust into my mouth and her hands come to the side of my face, holding me as she kissed me fiercely, hungrily. Her assault was so intensely erotic that I simply lay back, utterly subdued. When the kiss finished, her mouth moved to my neck and, despite my attempts to the contrary I tensed, aware of her fangs and felt her lips curl into a smile.

Knowing she had me, her kisses became gentle before she drew one of her claws across my chest and I bucked wildly; my eyes widened as she licked her claws. Then she went back to her kisses.

I was rigidly erect long before she got down to my belt where she paused for a moment before using her teeth to undo it, then she opened my trousers and slid her hand inside, cupping my balls and extracting my stiff cock before bending her mouth to it. I wasn't sure I wanted those teeth anywhere near it but, when she just licked it once and then slid off me to pull off my boots, I felt disappointment more than relief.

Then she removed my trousers and stood elegantly; her slim tattooed body towering over me, beautiful and exotic and I think, for a moment, if she told me to roll over and worship her boots with my tongue, I would have done it; but she had other plans.

I watched her hand curl, in a beckoning gesture, like a fighter who has already won urging an opponent to their doom. Watching her carefully, I stood then slid off the tattered remains of my bloody shirt, my hand instinctively feeling for my bleeding shoulder; her eyes watched me with the same intensity.

She stepped to the side, circling me as if she was sizing me up for a fight.

I was up for it.

I crouched, very aware that my cock was standing out like a tentpole and one kick there could spell defeat and, probably, spoil the whole evening.

We sprung together, bodies clashing. I strove for a grip on her naked skin but she had no such compulsion and her claws raked across my back. However, she was not as strong as me and was lighter and, though she squirmed, I managed to turn and throw her over my hip so that she crashed to the floor and I dropped on top of her sitting in her belly, pinning her down with my weight and grappling for her wrists.

She squirmed and bucked but I held her and, finally pinned her wrists above her head.

We stilled for a moment, both breathing hard then I leant down and kissed her full on the mouth, my tongue pushing into her mouth this time, feeling the strange sharpness of her teeth.

She struggled and squirmed underneath me but didn't bite and I used one arm to pin her arms and my other hand to hold her chin.

I moment later she stopped struggling and returned the kiss, her body arching against mine, as she pressed her little breasts against my chest and ground her hips against me.

It was a beautiful moment, like... I had conquered her.

I let her go, my hands moving to the side of her face as she had held me and her arms curled themselves around my body, pulling us together with a forceful determination.

Then her claws raked my back and she threw me off.

We crouched facing each other.

'Perhaps you'd better to tie me to the bed.' She said in a surprisingly English accent.

'I don't think that will be necessary.' I told her trying to hide my surprise.

'Not necessary.' She said with a smile. 'But we both might enjoy it.'

'Let's go a few more rounds.' I said and, again, we sprang at each other.

*

I don't know if she let me win but I did manage to pin her down and then she guided my cock inside her and we fucked on the floor, my cock driving into her as she raked my back with her claws. She screamed as she came, thrusting her hips against mine with a force that almost knocked me off her body then we lay in a pool of sweat, locked together, clinging to each others bodies surrounded by the tangled remains of discarded clothing and overturned furniture.

'Fuck!' She said after a few minutes. 'I enjoyed that.'

'It wasn't bad.' I said with a smile, my hand moving to play with one of her nipple rings.

'You want to go again?' She asked.

'Let's give it a minute or two.' I slid off her and, as she began to move, scooped her up and threw her on the bed.

'So you do want to tie me to the bed.' She stretched out her arms and legs. 'It's a while since I was tied down and fucked until I couldn't walk.'

'I think we need to keep those claws under control.'

She smiled and rolled onto her side, sliding her hands behind her back.

I took some rope from the ottoman and bound her wrists.

'You could at least put me in a nice tight hogtie.' She said.

'If you insist.' I bound her ankles and pulled them up to her wrists.

'That's better.' She said, squirming delightedly.

I lay on the bed beside her, unable to resist the pull of her nipple rings.

'I have rings in other places too.' She said pushing her hips forward.

'I'll come to those later.' I said pulling her right nipple ring and kissing her gently. 'But first I want to know how you ended up in Argentina playing ponygirl polo.'

'What is it about men always wanting to talk?' She rolled her eyes in mock exasperation.

'Humour me.' I tugged her nipple ring.

'Ever hear of Kinky Verity?' She squirmed forward to press herself against me. 'The Pet'n'Pony Girl.'

Embarrassingly, I vaguely recalled the name.

'Thought you might.' She shifted gently in her bonds and closed her eyes. 'My boyfriend and I used to play some lovely kinky games then, one day, he came home with a camera and we began posting videos of them on-line.'

I thought I remembered a slim girl in a black PVC hood and bodice being taken for walkies on a leash on all fours and prancing pony-like on two hoofed feet. She didn't have the tattoos then, of course.

'That really got me excited.' She said licking her pointed teeth. 'I loved being in bondage, especially leather: single sleeves, harnesses, bridles and the humiliation of being forced to crawl in front of the camera... to eat from a dog bowl in front of all those strangers wanking off on me as I wagged my tail for them... or being put in the treadmill in my pony hooves, forced to walk as he whipped me, drooling round my bit...' Her throat and chest was beginning to flush. 'It got me so wet! The more we did, the more I got into it until I was spending all my free time at it; turned into a kinky animal locked in bondage. We bought this big steel cage and I loved being kept in it. I was addicted... taking days off work so I could lie there helpless... wet between the legs... wanking myself 'til I couldn't cum anymore.'

She shuddered slightly.

'We got offers online. All kinds of offers of what men, sometimes women too - well, they said they were women - what they'd like to see done to me, sometimes what they'd like to do to me themselves.' She began rubbing her thighs together. 'And I realised I wanted them to do it to me too.'

She opened her eyes and looked at me. 'I wanted to be given to some stranger who'd keep me in a cage like a pet, knowing that anything could happen to me... that I could be raped, beaten, abused, killed even... but the thought of being someones pet... dehumanised... just turned me on so much.'

She was clearly intensely aroused by the memories and I began to tease her nipples again.

'It's going to take more than that.' She said with a smile.

My hand slid lower, between her legs which she parted for me.

'Much better.'

She was soaking wet even allowing for the fact I'd recently cum inside her.

'I began actively looking on-line, looking for the right offer and that's how I found out about PonyGirl polo; about how girls are used, harnessed, whipped... The stables were quite hard to find but then I found the Jaguars. I left Heathrow in the clothes I was standing up in and threw my passport away once I'd cleared security in Buenos Aires.'

*

CHAPTER 19: THE HUNTING PARTY

*

I returned Verity or 'Six' to the stables before breakfast after (nervously) allowing her to give me a final blow job.

Waking up next to a kinky cat-girl was great way to start Christmas Day.

For the festive season, it wasn't quite what I was used to with the temperatures in the high thirties.

Goose looked as smugly satisfied as I felt when we met over breakfast. I wasn't sure who she'd spent the night with but she didn't seem to have any bite or clawmarks.

Don Hernan and his family had, apparently gone to mass and, on their return, we were, going out 'hunting' at Las Vigia, 'the lookout'. I'd asked Don Hernan about it but he'd been rather evasive.

'You will find out in good time, Miguel.' He had said.

When the family returned we set out; we, the caballeros (and a few caballeras), rode horses, the proper, four legged kind, something in which I was, unfortunately, included and I looked enviously at the 'baggage train' of two legged ponies; potras lining up beside regular ponies from the Azuls and Jaguars being harnessed to heavily laden gigs as we rode out. There were fourteen riders in our party, including me; Don Hernan, his sister Maria-Argenta and his mistress, Helga; Don Carlos of the Jaguars' stable along with his wife and three of his coaches, then Stablemistress Mendez-Garcia and Valentina and, of course, Goose, Rueben, Charles and Barbie.

From my point of view, it was not the most comfortable couple of hours I'd ever spent as we wound our way up the steep road, towards Las Vigia, particularly when the other riders began to trot. At least, I managed it without falling off but I knew I was going to be aching the next day. On the bright side, it was probably a lot easier than it was for the two-legged ponies, toiling up behind his drawing their gigs laden with food and equipment under the watchful eyes (and whips) of the stablehands.

The view was worth the effort, a chance to look across the vast country towards Buenos Aires and the Atlantic ocean. Standing at the edge of a wide flat rocky outcrop looking down over a very steep cliff on the the Hacienda with its vineyards and lawns and training areas showed just how large it was. If anyone needed a private location to undertake kinky activities then this was it; Don Hernan could probably keep and train his entire stable here and nobody would know anything about it. The site also provided a glimpse into the higher peaks of the Andes, wrapped even in the height of summer in snow and mist.

While we waited for 'the pack animals' we sat and drank and talked though most of the conversation was in Spanish and I only half followed it despite Reuben's help.

Eventually, however, the 'baggage train' arrived, a line of tired, sweating ponies, their muscles straining from the exertion. I saw Bryony drop to her knees exhausted, her chest heaving as she gasped around her bridle; she wasn't the only one.

*

However exhausting, the climb was only the beginning of the ponies' day and, after being allowed to slake their thirsts, the ponies were soon put to use.

The 'hunt', it turned out consisted of a suitably nimble pony being released with a start of five seconds into on open patch of scrubland and then chased by a rider on horseback. Needless to say the pony was naked other than boots and her arm sleeve.

The first rider to go was Marie-Argenta, spurring her arab mare (four legged!) after a pony from the seconds (two legged), snagging her legs with a bola and catching her by the hair before pulling her across the saddle for a good spanking as she galloped back to the start line. As the crowd applauded, the gorgeous Hispanic nosed her mount through the crowd with her captive still draped enticingly over the saddle before her and vanished into the bushes to claim her prize.

The process was repeated with one of Don Carlos' coaches chasing down a rather chastised looking Carmen who, I noticed wore tan line where once had been her captain's collar. He used a lasso to catch his prey and lead her back with the rope pulled snugly around her throat, smiling as he too lead her back through the lines for a little 'droit-de-senor'.

The whole thing had a deliciously barbaric feel to it and would have been a delight to watch if I hadn't realised it was going to be my turn at some point.

I was just watching Don Carlos' wife bring back a ponyboy when I sensed a presence beside me. Looking round I saw Bryony standing there. She was naked save her pony boots and the pony sleeve binding her arms.

'Master.' She said with a slight smile and dropped to her knees beside me.

The hunting obviously interested and excited her. When a girl is naked and bound and kneeling with her knees spread, it is hard for her to hide her emotions.

I ran my hand through her hair, it was matted and dirty; and she leant against my leg as we watched a Jaguar (two legged!) run, sprinting headlong towards the rough ground to the right, her body stretched forward, bound arms lifted behind her. After five seconds the Caballero (Don Hernan, himself) went after her, spurring his horse to a gallop in pursuit. He caught her with the same skill as his sister, though using a lasso; drawing her over his saddle and slapping her bottom.

'I assume you plan to run.' I said looking down.

She looked up. 'I hope Master does not object.' She said with the hint of a smile. I don't think it will cause too much damage to his property and I think Master would enjoy it.'

We watched the next girl being prepared, another Jaguar.

'You are getting quite a reputation in the stables.' Bryony said suddenly.

'Really?'

'I heard you gave Rubber Dolly a good thrashing the other night and you have Camilla eating out of your hand...' She looked up. 'Or was it something else she was eating? You seem a lot more... dominant. Sir!'

'Most of the women around here seem to need a very firm hand.' I told her.

'I think I might need a firm hand too, Master.' She said suddenly. 'I've been a naughty girl.' She looked up, her blue eyes intent doing that submissive lip thing with her teeth. 'A very naughty girl.'

I felt an urge to take her then and there. I doubt anyone would have minded, least of all her.

'Miguel.' Don Hernan called, the Jaguar still draped over his saddle.

I looked away from Bryony.

'Come along, my friend. You must take a turn too.'

This trip was turning into one challenge after another; not that I objected to most of them. More importantly, while I'd not covered myself in glory on every occasion, I think I'd risen to most of them.

Chasing a girl on horseback might prove one experience too many.

'Thank you, Don Hernan.' I forced a smile and came forward to take my horse, watching the Jaguars who, although leashed and muzzled looked more than capable of outdistancing me, horse or not.

Bloody typical, I thought. Couldn't they have given me a docile little stable girl?

I was just mounting up when a figure streaked past me, red hair flying.

Bryony!

There were shouts from the crowd and a laugh from Don Hernan.

I mounted and kicked my horse to a canter if not a gallop hanging on to the saddle as firmly as I could. I really didn't want to fall off and break my neck. I was glad to see Bryony run to the left staying in open ground, it might give me more chance with my limited equestrian skills. She ran fairly straight too and I thought I might have her easily but, just as I caught up with her, she dodged left, turning and running back past me. I turned my horse but only slowly and by the time I was facing her again, she was running in another direction. I turned again, awkwardly, aware I was showing my lack of equestrian skills. She looked up, laughing and dodging away.

There was only one thing for it. I might not be able to ride a horse well but I was pretty good with the whip.

I pulled the coiled bullwhip from the saddle and, spurring my horse on, shook out the long leather blade hoping the crowd didn't notice as I nearly fell off.

Bryony ran on towards the rougher ground but as I caught her up she stopped and turned meaning to dodge. I don't think she'd expected the whip and I struck catching her around the right thigh and pulling her towards me.

I nearly fell again but stayed in the saddle and I'd managed to unbalance her, pulling her hopping towards me.

Then I had her by the hair and hauled her over in front of me.

I think she probably jumped but then, I did have my fist in her hair.

Slapping her bottom in triumph, I trotted back towards the crowd. It hadn't been anything like a display of good horsemanship but, partly out of relief that it was over, I raised my hand in triumph accepting the laughter and good humoured applause of the crowd.

Don Hernan smiled as I presented my prize to him, drawing his riding crop from his boot and passing it to me. It was a beautiful thing, soft tan leather, hand-stitched no doubt and probably rolled over the thighs of dusky maidens or something like that.

He still had the Jaguar lying remarkable docily across his saddle.

'That one seems a little wayward.' He said with a smile. 'You might need this.'

I took it and brought it down hard on Bryony's bottom.

She yelped and kicked her legs but only because she wanted me to do it again.

Then, at as much of a dignified walk as I could manage, I shouldered my horse through the crowd and went to find somewhere quiet to give my errant slave the seeing to she deserved.

*

As I reached the back of the crowd, I spotted Valentina. She was coming toward me leading a pony (a two legged one - keep up), the next to be hunted, I assumed. The girl was a blonde and walked with her head bowed, picking her way along on her toes in her thigh high pony boots, leashed with her arms in a single sleeve behind her back; Helga perhaps, I thought at first but then looked again, the girl was slimmer than Helga and her breasts sizable but not nearly as huge as Don Hernan's blonde mistress; her nipples were 'virgin' too as the stablemistress might say; her hair not so highlighted.

Suddenly she looked up.

'Goose!' It just sort of came out louder than expected.

Bryony lifted her head at my sudden outburst.

Goose looked up blushing furiously.

I was about to tease her but the look in her eyes warned me off.

'Not a fucking word, Michael.' She said.

Valentina winked with her good eye and jerked the lead clipped to the Goose's leather collar drawing her on.

Behind the crowd, I found a mounting block and, pulling Bryony from the saddle, bent her over it not even bothering to tighten the strap across her back.

Then, I thrashed her with Don Carlos' whip and, when her bottom was glowing red, I fucked her for all I was worth.

***

I kept Bryony leashed for the rest of the day and, even if I hadn't done so, I doubt she'd have left my side. We watched the rest of the hunts but I declined to join in the final 'Grand Prix' a free-for-all where caballeros and some of the caballeras chased naked ponies across the hillside before throwing them across the saddle. This was a game of 'finders keepers', the pony remaining the property of the caballero or caballera long into the night.

Sentimental as it my sound, I already had the one I wanted to keep leashed and pressing her lovely tight body against mine at every opportunity. Lovers hold hands and, I suspect, if Bryony's arms had not been tightly sheathed, we might have done this but there is something far more satisfying about a girl deprived of the use of her arms expressing her lust by the constant, insistent touch of her body. Despite her bondage or perhaps because of it, Bryony seemed happy with the outcome although I'm not sure the Goose was. In the melee, I saw Valentina trying to catch her only to be cut off by Don Carlos who caught the Goose's her blonde hair with his fist and pulled her skillfully across his saddle.

*

After the hunt, the various couples retired to discrete copses and rocks where the victors could enjoy their hard won spoils while the few servants still permitted the use of their hands lit a fire, cooked the barbecue and prepared our Christmas dinner.

We took the opportunity to catch up as we sat round campfire and snuggling together, the stars winking into view overhead. She'd had a pretty wild time too; between nights with PLT, she'd gone down on ponies and players, grooms too.

'You've been a very naughty girl.' I told her.

'Are you going to punish me, Master?' She looked up wide eyed and, I thought, very adoringly.

We might have both been shagging anything that moved over the lat week but we were both hungry for each other.

I stood, hooking a finger in her nipple ring and lead her into the gathering darkness where I made her kneel; then whipped her breasts, probably much harder than I'd done previously; I'm sure I could see tears glistening in her eyes when I'd finished.

Then I took her again, hurling her to the ground and pinning her down, forcing myself inside her.

She was dripping wet.

She arched, screaming with pleasure as I thrust into her, thrashing wildly, until we both climaxed loudly.

Dimly I heard a ragged cheer.

We really had been very loud.

She looked up at me, her eyes smoldering 'Now see what you've done!'

'You insolent mare.' I cuffed her across the face and pinned her down as she thrashed.

'Bastard.' She tried to bite my arm but I took her hair and half dragging her lead her further away from the camp.

Bryony's tough and fit but she's smaller than me and, further onto the darkness, I forced myself on her again, thrusting into her. Up to that point she'd fought but now she yielded, arching up again to meet me and howling as I entered her.

Then we did it slowly, writhing together before creeping back to the campfire to eat.

*

We ate barbecued steak; what else would one have for Christmas dinner in Argentina and then there were barrels of wine for the guests if not their ponies; however, after I'd fed Bryony, we sneaked away again, a little more discretely this time.

'Let me please you, Master.' Her voice trembled.

'I kissed her gently.'

'Master?'

'Shhh!'

'Master...' She persisted dropping to her knees. 'Would you cum on your slave?'

'On?'

'Yes, Master.' She bit her lip looking up at me with big blue eyes. 'You know that Mistress Juanita pisses on us to mark us as hers.'

'I'd heard that.'

Surprisingly, the thought rather appealed to me.

'You can piss on me if you like but what I really want is for you to cum all over me.'

'All over you?'

'In my mouth and on my hair if you can.' She kissed my neck. 'And on my tits if you'd like to.'

'I'm not sure I can manage all that it one go.'

'We have all night, Master.' She pressed her lips to my crotch. 'And Slave is every willing to please.'

*

CHAPTER 20: TOTAL SUBMISSION

*

We rose early despite the late night and 'carousing'. For the ponies it was more or less business as usual, rising with the sum but of few of the caballeros looked somewhat the worse for wear. Keen not to be involved in any more genuine equestrian activities, I joined the 'baggage-train' leading my pony back down the hill as the grooms guided the ponies back to the Hacienda. It was quite a site watching the harnessed girl guided along by the grooms; the problem on the descent was slowing the gigs down but many were empty and that gave them the opportunity to have to girls canter or even gallop when the road was not too steep; I thus had the opportunity to watch Bryony in action noticing how her gait was slightly different and, probably more efficient. At this rate we were heading for a third victory in the Mares race assuming we didn't get to side-tracked by polo.

We were back in the Hacienda by lunchtime and I thought the ponies might get the day off but we trained in the afternoon although there were a couple of notable absences; namely Goose and the Stablemistress, Juanita Mendez-Garcia. Where the stablemistress was didn't really bother me but I was a little concerned about Goose.

'She's fine.' Valentina reassured me. 'Don Carlos has kept her for another night.'

I wondered if Goose thought this arrangement to be fine.

The Stablemistress, it seemed was with the lovely Maria-Argenta.

Lucky girl.

'Don Hernan's sister has her tucked in one of the Hacienda's playrooms.' Valentina told me with a sly smile. 'The Stablemistress trained her when she was younger the senorita likes to remind her of their time together...'

'You mean... payback.'

'We are Spanish, Senor.' Valentina said with more than a hint of schadenfreude. 'We practically invented torture.'

*

We had an early night and, while I was all for finding naked and semi-naked girls waiting in chains in my room but I was happy to give it a miss.

Don Hernan, however, appeared to have other ideas.

As I opened my door, a kneeling figure lifted her head to look at me.

'Bryony!'

'Not too disappointed, I hope, Master.' She said with a smile.

I shrugged, and pulled my shirt off. 'I was thinking of an early night.' I told her.

'And after I've been prepared to Master's specifications.' She said somewhat archly.

'Really?'

She rose up off her haunches and turned slightly away from me, bending forward and lifting her sheathed arms to show me her bottom.

'Someone's had a good spanking.' I said looking at the bruises I'd given her the night before.

'Yes, someone has. Haven't they, Master.' She said bending further forwards. 'But that's not what you're supposed to be looking at.'

'You slaves are all the same, constantly flashing your arses are men. It's not surprising you get spanked.'

'Take a look at what I've got between my cheeks.' She said sounding rather annoyed.

'Oh, that.'

'Yes, that.' She turned pouting. 'Apparently, Senor Miguel likes his girls flushed with an enema and then filled with anal beads before they are delivered to his room.'

I couldn't help grinning at my submissive little slave girl; she was grubby and her tits were just as bruised as her arse and she still had my cum in her hair.

'I'm sure you'll appreciate it when I remove them.'

'I'm sure I will, Master. But Mistress Sofia pushed them in without any lubrication and she had very cold hands.'

I found the second half of the sentence hard to believe.

'If you're a good girl, I'll take them out later.'

She flashed an eager smile. 'And what would Master like his good girl to do.'

She got me in the mood with a little tongue and lip action; then I took her to bed, teasing her nipples and sliding my hand between her legs.

'To keep your behaviour good, I'm going to have to pierce this.' I said, gently teasing her clit.

She smiled and pressed herself against me. 'I thought Master would never ask.'

'I'm not asking.'

'I love the dominant streak this trip has unmasked.' She kissed my shoulder where Six had bitten it. 'But may slave ask how her master obtained this?'

'Slave may ask but Master may choose not to tell her.'

'Yes, Master.' She looked down submissively. 'But I should comment that Master has developed quite a reputation in the stables what with the way he's mastered the two recalcitrant ponies, not to mention the way he treated that filthy Rubber Dolly.'

'I could have said the something similar about my slave, going down an anything that moved.'

'Slave has little choice, Master.'

I slapped her bottom.

'Ouch!'

'I think you mean 'Ouch, Master'.'

'Yes, Master.'

I slapped her again.

'Ouch, Master.'

'Better.' My hand slid to the anal bead protruding from her bottom. 'Up on your knees.'

She brought her knees under her body and I slid my hand between her legs and started teaching her clit.

'Master really does have very skilled fingers.'

'Such a well trained little slave.'

'Thank you, Master... Oh!'

I popped the first bead out.

'Master is correct.' She wiggled her bottom. 'It is quite nice. Just like having a tail removed.'

I popped the second bead.

'You know, I really could get into anal if you treated me like this.'

I slapped her bottom and pulled out another bead.

By ten she was panting and clearly close to orgasm.

'There are fifteen more to go.' I warned her. 'And you don't have permission to cum.'

'Yes, Master.' She gasped. 'Slave is... trying.'

'I certainly hope so because if Slave cums without permission this evening, Master will piece her labia too so that her hungry pussy can be locked shut when master doesn't require it.' I didn't add that I would be using the process to keep her well packed with anal beads.

She lasted four more than climaxed unrestrainedly.

'I'm sorry, Master.' She pouted as she got her breath back.

I wasn't sure that she was but she made up for it by sitting astride me and riding me to climax; hers and mine.

*

The next day was probably Tuesday but I was beginning to lose track of the days.

After returning Bryony to the stable, I went to get breakfast and found Maria-Argenta there already looking like a goddess on earth. I might not have previously distinguished myself in her presence previously but I'd just spent the night with playing kinky sex games with my fiance and just returned her naked to the stables in bondage to be harnessed and bridled, I figured I could handle most women...

She was dressed in a tight white sleeveless blouse giving just the hint of a lacy bra beneath and jodhpurs that looked as if they might have been painted on to her bottom and thighs; then there were the shiny riding boots complete with spurs. However, most striking of all was her tattoo. A black horses head with a blue bridle and plume and a gold ring around it.

'You played for the firsts.' I said indicating her tattoo.

She looked at my like a woman who is used to men awkwardly trying to pick her up but then recognised me and smiled.

'We were a small outfit.' She told me giving me the full benefit of those lovely Hispanic eyes and pout. 'We all had to pitch in. We are family.'

'You didn't get it because of your family connections?'

Her face hardened instantly and she glared at me; I thought she might just kill me on the spot. I opened my mouth to apologise but she reached out and guided my hand to her butt.

Talk about buns of steel!

Like a jerk, I just stood there. It really wasn't an unpleasant experience. 'You were a pony?'

I'd assumed she'd been a player.

'Yes!' That should not surprise you!' She hissed. 'Centre attack four years, strike rate in the drop of 72%. And you had better take your hand off my behind!'

She knocked my arm away from her body.

She was 'family' and, though Don Hernan seemed to like me, I suspected he would have me thrown to the sharks or whatever they did for entertainment.

I stood chastened.

'You are the coach.' Her flare of anger faded and those exotic brown eyes roamed over me. 'Are you any good?'

'I've had some success.' I told her trying to sound casual and forgetting the need to brag in this country. 'I mostly do track and field, track mostly.'

'Ah, so this is the famous English understatement.' She regarded me cooly. 'In Argentina, when we are good we tell everyone.'

'In that case, I'm good.' I said trying to recover. I felt awkward again. 'I'm a good pony coach too.'

'Really?' She looked skeptical.

'My pony has won the local race two years running.'

'And that is down to your coaching.'

'It's partly down to her but she hadn't won before.'

She regraded me with a little more interest.

'This is the red-headed pony in the stable.' It was a statement, not a question. Like Don Hernan, she knew her stuff.

'Yes.'

She gave me a small but genuine smile. 'You are a lucky man and one who has done well to tame her.'

'I'm not sure I will ever tame her.'

'We are back to English understatement again.'

'No, we are back to independent English women again.'

'Perhaps you will learn something about dealing with women while you are in my country.'

It was a pretty good put down and I didn't have a response.

'So.' She asked, magnanimous, or so I thought, in her victory. 'Have you ever tried it yourself?'

'Tried what?'

'Being the pony.'

'No.' I was surprised she should ask.

'Never?'

'Never!' I tried to make it sound final.

'Oh.' She seemed genuinely disappointed. 'I think it is always good to try new experiences. It will help you with your coaching. Allow you to... lead from a position of experience.'

'Perhaps we could discuss tactics?' I said warily.

'Quizas.' She shrugged, turning away and, defeated, I went to sit with Goose

*

I was just finishing my coffee when I felt a tap on the shoulder.

'So, Miguel.' It was Maria-Argenta. 'We go and discuss tactics?'

She didn't await my reply.

Goose looked at me and I blushed like a schoolboy as I realised I was already on my feet following her out of the door behind her like a trained puppy.

'Tell me about your 'Mares' race.' She said walking briskly towards the stables.

'It's a village tradition.' I told her. 'Every year in the summer. It's over about five miles, mostly road, some steep climbs...'

She called to the grooms for pony carts which were brought quickly.

'Bryony... the red-headed pony asked me to coach her for it two years ago.'

'So you are an experienced pony coach.'

'Yes... I...'

The gigs the grooms brought were like the one I'd first seen Don Hernan drive, the shafts and a crossbar to balance on.

I watched Maria-Argenta jump on and whip her pony into motion without a second thought.

The groom looked at me expectantly, even the pony between the shafts turned her bridled head towards me.

What else could I do? I climbed on, trying to keep my balance and drove off out of the stableyard hoping I didn't disgrace myself by falling off in front of everyone.

*

The gig took a little getting used to but was probably a little easier than riding a cantering horse. By the time I'd caught her up, Maria-Argenta was heading up the road into the trees.

Of course, she had no intention of discussing tactics though she commented on my driving as our ponies trotted up the winding track, encouraging me to lean forward a little more and to bend my legs.

After some twenty minutes of what must have been hard climbing for the second team ponies we were driving, we arrived at another building that looked rather like the stables we had just left though the large gates were shut and our way was barred by two figures; a man and a woman in dark suits and sunglasses carrying what I assumed to be automatic rifles.

They parted for Maria-Argenta, and the gates opened as if by magic in front of us.

The Hacienda's stable resembled a typical stable, like the one on Bryony's farm of in Goose's estate; rough stone walls, wooden stable doors, straw and dirt on the cobbles.

This was nothing like it.

Yes, there were stalls and stable doors but it was all glinting steel and glass. The centre of the yard was, however, much the same, and, like the Hacienda had two angled whipping posts and a pair of mounting blocks for punishing errant ponies or drivers.

As we entered, ponies in harness were being strapped to gigs by grooms and players. The grooms wore the same as those in the stables we'd been using; white blouse or shirt, jodhpurs and boots; the players were wearing the same leathers as the seconds I'd seen playing at the weekend, the same as Cream had worn with such pride in back in Mares-de-Launce; the strip of the Cabelleras Azuls. The gigs however, were very different, shining blue, probably carbon fibre, I guessed with titanium shafts or something equally sophisticated.

There were camera and floodlight and satellite dishes too.

We passed an open door and, tearing my eyes away from the nubile ponies being strapped to space age gigs and their equally nubile caballeras strapping them in place, I saw a state of the art gymnasium in which a hooded, naked and tightly restrained girl was running on a treadmill connected to the machine by chains to her nipples; two others, also hooded and otherwise naked, sat astride exercise bikes.

The ponies wore the 'new' style harness with the triangular arm restraint; they also wore what looked suspiciously like Bryony's chastity belt.

A few looked up as we drove in and waved when they recognised Maria-Argenta.

With the hot fit and clearly chaste bodies in the yard and Maria-Argenta's perfect ass in front of me it was difficult to know where to look.

*

CHAPTER 21: DOMINATION AND HUMILIATION

*

We left the gigs and Maria-Argenta lead me into a tack room where, in my fantasy she would turn round and kiss me passionately before pulling me down among the leather and letting me have my wicked way with her, perhaps letting me bind her wrists in the process.

Needless to say this didn't happen.

She did turn round and she did tell me to undress.

I hesitated only for a moment but the smouldering look in her eyes reduced me to jelly and, besides, a guy likes to get his pecs out for a pretty girl.

She was clearly impressed.

'And the rest of it.' She knew just how to control a man, at least, she knew how to control this one. A gentle touch of those fingers on my chest, blue manicured nails tracing my muscles; the way she she parted her lips; a flash of white teeth and soft pink tongue; the promise of something more.

Then there was her smile as she saw the way my cock was swelling.

'I'm flattered, Miguel.' He fingers lightly brushed it and I stood instantly to attention.

Disappointingly she turned away, bending again to show me her perfect ass in the ultra-tight jodhpurs; they were tight enough for me to see the bulge of her sex. When she stood she was holding a harness and, sadly, I was putty in her hands.

I'd thought about it a few times, particularly when Bryony first introduced me to her version of pony play, but I'd never actually done it. At the start, we'd been too focussed on the training and then when Bryony revealed her submissive needs, I could hardly be Master and let her, or anyone else for that matter, put me between the shafts; it just wouldn't be very masterful.

Looking back, I like to think it was a desire to experiment and perhaps enjoy the bondage but, if I'm honest, it was because Maria-Argenta wanted me to do it. So I stood meekly and let her place the straps over my shoulders and tighten the chest straps then pull my arms up behind my back and encase them in the polo sheath. There was no going back at this point and quite frankly, I didn't want to; so I just blushed furiously as she stood back and looked at me in much the same way as I looked at ponygirls with a coy smile on her beautiful face.

'We are going to have to do something about that.' She looked at my rigid cock which was drooling freely from what she had just done to me.

I'd seen the crotch straps of the ponyboy harnesses and she fitted one to mine, buckling it to the ring on my chest and then guiding my cock and balls through the steel ring designed to accommodate them. The ponyboys I'd seen had then had their cocks sheathed but Maria-Argenta had other plans for me, showing me a leather harness fitting that had multiple straps before securing my cock inside it and tightening several straps around my balls.

It was a wonder I didn't cum but, once it the straps, that wasn't going to happen.

'Don't worry.' She said wiping the drool from my cock off her hands. 'All the firsts are in chastity for the season.'

'One of them isn't.' I looked at her.

I like to think she took it as a compliment; there was a flicker of a smile before her expression darkened.

'A pony should be careful in harness.' She said stepping towards me in a manner I can only describe as 'menacing'. 'They're so... vulnerable.' She cupped my spatchcocked balls in her hand and squeezed gently looking up at me sternly as she did so.

She'd made her point.

'Yes, Mistress.' I blushed as I said it.

'Good boy.'

Like I say, I've always been into bondage. I always thought I'd be a master like every guy does but I'd also tied myself up a few times and this was, to some degree, the realisation of a fantasy. I kept that in mind as she hooded me and then pulled the bridle over my head, securing the bit between my teeth. Even with the tight cock restraints, it was a wonder I didn't cum my load.

Then she sat me down and fitted my with pony boots.

I was glad there was nobody around that I knew to see how much I was enjoying this and, once hooded I had a little more confidence even as I stood wobbling slightly and getting used to the pony boots.

'Just wait a moment while I change.'

There are, of course, times when a guy would really rather not be hooded.

I waited. There wasn't really anything else I could do.

Then she clipped reins to the ends of my bit and lead me out into the yard.

*

I stood in the hot, dry yard as unseen hands harnessed me to a gig experiencing the disorientating sensations of being touched and moved, of straps being tightened. Deprived of my vision I strained to listen through the hood but could only hear muffled chatter in Spanish and the occasional shout.

The sun felt hot on my body, the air dry and dusty as I breathed it in around my bit. I could smell the leather of the hood and taste it where it was wrapped around my bit. I knew I was starting to sweat and that I was drooling (yes, two sites). My shoulders and elbows were already aching from the triangular sheath that constrained my arms and the boots felt awkward on my feet.

I knew why ponies always seemed restless, why they tossed their heads and shifted their weight and that I was eager to begin. Then I felt pressure on my shoulders and heard the creak of the harness as someone climbed into the gig. Bizarrely, I really hoped it was Maria-Argenta. Then, there was a sharp pain in my butt and a shake of the reins and I was a real ponyboy.

The gig wasn't heavy, Maria-Argenta or whoever was driving me was small and pert and the harnesses were designed to give maximum advantage to the pony.

The whip came again.

'Get those knees up you lazy pony!' It was definitely Maria-Argenta.

I did my best at a rising trot but the whip came again... and again...

Within a few minutes my bottom was burning but my thighs were burning more. The rising trot was a tiring way of running and I realised how fit Bryony and the other ponies I drove were.

Fortunately, after a minute or two, I was reined back to a lazy trot though I was panting for breath and would have been happy to stop. However, a lot of athletics training is interval work and active recovery and this was something I was used to. Jogging along pulling a weighted truck or a training partner using a band is a common technique too and I was surprised how familiar it felt.

Around me I could hear the shouts of the other drivers calling to each other and to my own driver. A number of the comments were about me.

'Hey, Maria will you share your stallion with us?'

'He's just a pony...'

'I looks bigger than that.'

The whip stung me again and Maria-Argenta called to me to pick up the pace.

I knew we'd left the yard, and, at first, I jogged on in more or less a straight line but then I felt the whip on my left side and a pull on the reins to the right, almost instinctively I turned and then felt a pull the other way accompanied by a lick of the whip to the other side. Again I obeyed.

She made me slalom for what must have been a few hundred yards and then we turned sharply up a steep slope that almost brought me to a halt.

Maria-Argenta shook the reins and began to lash my buttocks repeatedly as I dug in and dragged the cart up the short rise; by the time we were at the top I was panting hard, aware of my chest heaving against the harness straps. My buttocks and the back of my thighs were throbbing with pain. However, I was given no respite, the whip falling again as Maria-Argenta urged me to a canter.

Around me there are more shouts, similar in nature as my fellow ponies were whipped along.

*

As the morning wore on, I barely noticed the pain of the whip, experiencing it merely as a signal like a pull on the reins. I barely thought about anything other than putting one foot in front of the other, dragging the gig and its driver behind me, walking when I got the chance and running when driven to it. We must have done several laps of the training field or wherever we were then we did sprints and then practice turns; surprisingly the latter were almost the hardest and Maria-Argenta exhorted me to turn more and more sharply lashing me with the whip and by jerking so sharply on my bridle that I feared she might pull me over.

I was very glad she wasn't using nipple reins on me and soon resolved to be a little easier on Bryony when I ran her blind.

We stopped after what must have been an hour and a half or perhaps two. As I stood panting hard someone removed my bit and pushed a bottle of water into my mouth. It was warm but I drank thirstily until it was removed.

'Good boy!' The bottle was pulled out and a hand patted my bottom.

I was given a few moment respite and then the whip fell again; it was only a light tap but after my rest it seemed suddenly much sharper. I responded immediately trotting forward and then felt myself guided in a circle.

I heard a whistle blow and the world around me suddenly went silent. I pictured ponies standing, poised ready, a ball arcing in the air, rising falling, dropping to the ground...

The whip startled me into motion and came again a moment later.

I knew what was happening and powered forward; despite my efforts the whip kept coming but once again, the blows just became a blur, a muffled sensation like the sounds around me.

Something hit me, square on, no, a glancing blow across the chest, whatever hit me moving to my right even as I was drawn hard to the left by my bridle and driven that way by the whip.

I wondered if we'd won the ball...

I guessed not.

I was made to jog back.

The whistle came again... silence... the vision of the ball... the whip.

I ran forward again... crashed into another body.

Trotted back to the start.

We practiced the opening charge over and over again until I thought I was bruised from head to foot. I've no idea how many I won or if I won any at all.

The we must have moved on to some sort of passing practice; I could hear calls for the ball, feel changes in the pull on my reins when Maria-Argenta presumably had the ball and held the reins in her teeth. Those moments were a brief respite from the whip but, as I've said, after a few blows, I almost blocked out the pain of each stroke; it was just a reminder to run or turn.

*

Finally, we stopped for what must have been lunchtime and I was freed from the shafts of the gig, though not from my harness, bridle or hood. Maria-Argenta patted my bottom and told me I was a good boy.

'You show promise.' She said. 'If we ever start a ponyboy league, you'll be one of my star ponies.'

I nodded. There was little else I could do.

'Kneel down.' She tapped the backs of my legs and I dropped to my knees feeling the softness of what I suspected was grass.

She removed my bridle and put the water bottle in my mouth.

'Don't drink too much.'

'Yes, Mistress.' I mumbled round the bottle.

'Your food bowl is in front of you.'

She was giving me the full pony experience. I guessed there were other ponies, harnessed and hooded around me kneeling in front of food bowls.

I realised how hungry I was.

I bent forward, on my knees. With my face covered, the only way I could find the food bowl was by pushing out my tongue and I remembered watching Bryony doing this. While I didn't particularly enjoy watching her eat like this all the time, I did enjoy the way she was forced to seek the bowl blindly and the way she tried to eat daintily even though she would always end up with food all over her face. If I'm honest, I also rather enjoyed wiping her face afterwards.

After a few mis-starts I found the food, a bowl of some sort of protein substitute, probably Quorn, in a tomato sauce which surprisingly wasn't that bad.

I ate hungrily and licked the bowl clean.

Then I knelt waiting to see what happened next and thinking about my morning.

My shoulders ached and my chest felt bruised; my buttocks were warm from constant abuse.

Then, suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

Reflexively, I turned my head though, of course, I could see nothing.

I heard a girl laugh and then felt something brush my chest.

There was another laugh.

'Hello, handsome.' A voice said.

I turned my head towards it and heard laughter.

I dropped my head again.

'He's very submissive.'

'Do you think he understands us?' A voice asked in Spanish.

'Are you enjoying yourself, PonyBoy?' The voice spoke English and had an American accent.

'Your mithtress athked you a quethtion.' Another voice said in accented English.

A hand took hold of my bridle. 'Better answer if you don't want a whipping.' The American voice again.

'Yes, Mistress.' I said.

'So obedient.'

I felt hands on my body, caressing my chest.

There was more giggling then one of them grabbed my balls and squeezed gently.

'Such a waste.' One of the voices said in Spanish again.

'You are lucky we are all in chathtity, Senor.' The accented voice again. 'Or we will be riding you all over again.

Something pressed against my face and I smelt leather.

'And again...'

Whatever it was pushed against my face harder.

'Cabelleras!' It was Marie-Argenta. 'Unless you all want a pussy whipping you'd better leave my my ponyboy alone.'

'Sorry, Mistress.' They chorused. 'We were only having fun.'

My balls were released.

I couldn't help letting out a moan of disappointment.

'Open your mouth.' Marie-Argenta said. Then she slipped my bit back between my teeth. 'I suggest you lie down with the other ponies and get some rest. We have a lot more practice to do today.'

I rolled over onto my side and a few moments later fell asleep.

*

CHAPTER 22: TEMPTATION AND TORMENT

*

The afternoon continued in much the same vein with more drills. I thought I was about to drop but then, finally, we played some sort of game.

Initially, I assumed it was just another drill and when the whip struck I sprinted forwards.

The clash this time was full on, not a glancing blow and I felt myself lifted off my feet as by the force of it; my legs flailed in the air before I landed heavily only to feel the whip and a jerk on the reins. I turned and felt the whip again, driving me to the canter, we swerved left and the pressure on my bit changed. The whip came again.

I sprinted forwards realising that, somehow, we had won the ball.

I sensed almost before I felt something to my right; something touched my shoulder, slick flesh, a leather sheath, something knocked against the shaft of the gig. The whip fell again and I drove myself forward.

Then I was pulled sharply to the right. I collided with another body, staggered, felt a tug on my reins which helped me regain my balance and was then made to wheel sharply to the left.

There was a ragged cheer.

'Good boy!' I heard Maria-Argenta shout; her voice charged with excitement.

*

I don't think we won the ball again but once was enough to make me feel very proud.

I'd played centre attack with the firsts and had a strike rate of twenty percent.

Perhaps they'd let me have a tattoo.

I was genuinely disappointed when the game seemed to be over and I was driven back to the stable. I almost missed the weight of Maria-Argenta in the gig as she climbed down.

'You are a good pony.' Maria-Argenta said with genuine enthusiasm.

I nodded. 'Esh, Mishdrsh!' I said around my bridle.

She patted my bottom.

Then I was detached from the gig and lead forward out from the shafts. Unseen hands undid the buckles of my bridle and then it was removed. Then the hood came off in what felt like a rush of cold air despite the warmth of the sun on my body. The light was blinding and I screwed my eyes up, unable to open them, unable to even relax them after the total darkness of the hood. As my arm sheath was removed, the pain and relief in my shoulders came in roughly equal measures. Even though they were free, I couldn't move them and Marie-Argenta rubbed them gently.

Cautiously I opened my eyes again, still squinting, able to see figures around me, my fellow ponies undergoing a similar process at the hands of their players.

'Can you manage your boots?' Maria-Argenta guided me backwards and I sat on the step of the tack room fumbling with the buckles of the thigh high boots feeling useless.

She squatted in front of me and I looked down to see the top of her head, her dark hair made less glossy than it had been in the morning by a layer of dust; it it pulled back into a neat ponytail. She looked up and smiled; beautiful, radiant; her face was dusty but her large dark eyes still shone.

She was wearing the leathers of the Caballeras Azul; the little bolero jacket tight across her small neat breasts, pushing them together and up towards me. I tried not to look but I couldn't take my eyes of them... her; despite the fact I was surrounded by naked ponies and their seminaked players there was only one woman who captured my attention.

I felt her undoing my boots and then pull them off my feet.

She stood and I got a full view of her lovely toned body, in the brief bolero jacket and the shiny blue leather shorts that were as tight as her jodhpurs; her firm thighs and the leather thigh boots.

The sun shone through and around her hair like a halo.

She was a still a goddess, albeit a dusty one.

A goddess who had utterly dominated me.

Her skin and her leathers were covered in fine dust. If she'd asked me I'd have licked every inch of her clean with my tongue.

'Come on.' She turned, clearly knowing what I was looking at; how I was looking at her.

I wanted to crawl to heel but she hooked a finger in my harness and pulled me to my feet.

'I expect you to undo this part.' She patted my crotch and my captive cock twitched. Then she stepped behind me and began to undo the harness. My fingers were just about recovered enough to remove the cock strap.

A few moments later I was free.

And naked.

And surrounded by naked girls; well, mostly naked; certain strategic parts were covered.

I was disappointed to find Maria-Argenta apparently staying clothed.

'A Caballero would turn his back when a lady undresses.' She told me.

Reluctantly, I obeyed, forced to look at all the other lovely naked women around me, whipped sweating ponies and toned pert caballeras.

A man's life can be hard.

Actually, they weren't naked; to a woman they were all wearing lightweight but very effective looking chastity belts that shone slightly golden in the evening sun. I watched them bend and stretch, easing cramped muscles players massaging the calves of their tired mounts.

To be kept here among all this pouting beauty and never be permitted to touch any of it might be a torment worse than any physical pain.

Then, suddenly, I felt Maria-Argenta's arms around my waist, her body pressed against mime; her naked body by the feel of it and, I was pretty sure, no chastity belt.

Her hands closed around my cock and her fingers held my balls. I closed my eyes to relish the moment then 'snap' something closed tightly around my scrotum just above my balls.

Maria-Argenta released me and I looked down. There was a metal band locked around my scrotum just beneath the base of my cock; a leather strap hung from it.

At that moment Maria-Argenta strode past me. 'Come along, PonyBoy.' She said.

She was completely naked.

No chastity belt.

And she held the other end of the leash locked around my balls.

She jerked the leash once and I followed her like puppy dog though this time I had to hold my cock to stop it from swinging.

*

She lead me to the shower block, turning at the door to give a full view of her little pert breasts and dark brown nipples. They had tiny metal keepers in them rather than rings. She had a pierced navel too.

'Just in case you get any ideas.' She said picking up a pair of handcuffs. I held out my wrists and let her cuff me then she pulled me inside.

Though steel and glass on the outside, the showerblock was quaintly old fashioned on the inside, smelling of soap and wet wood. There were duckboards on the concrete floor and steel pipes above my head and to the sides, I could see steam rooms and saunas and, through a steamy glass window I could see a naked girl lying on a couch being given a massage.

The room was already full of steam and I glimpsed a few girls in there already washing each other down.

Maria-Argenta lifted my hands and clipped the handcuffs to a ring attached to a steel joist. Then she bent in front of me, quite deliberately I thought, to pick up a bottle to shampoo or perhaps to show me that her sex was just as perfect as every other part of her body; it was also pierced. Then, she turned and smiled and began to wash herself.

All I could do was stand to attention, watching as the goddess in human form soaped her hair and body and washed herself down. I'm sure she did it with a deliberate thoroughness in much the same way as she kept bending over to gather a little more shampoo.

As she did this, other girls wandered past but I barely noticed.

I just hoped she'd wash me down too.

*

'Would you like us to wash the stallion, Mistress.'

My private dance was interrupted by the girls who had teased me at lunchtime. At least I assumed it was them. The girl who spoke had the American accent; she was a blonde, freckled, slightly taller than the others who were typically Hispanic. All three had gorgeous bodies naked, glowing and dripping with water.

'Alright, Maisy.' Marie-Argenta said, washing her nipples for a the fourth time. 'But be careful with that thing.' She pointed to my cock. 'If you make him cum I'll make you lick him clean and then pussy whip the three of you.'

'Oh, Mithtress.' The girl with the Castilian accent reassured her then translated for their companion who giggled loudly.

'It's not as if we can really get up to anything.' The third girl said in Spanish pulling at her chastity belt. 'Or does Mistress want to save him for later?'

'I have another appointment later.' Maria-Argenta said coyly and the three girls laughed. 'But now I'm going to check on Bella.' She ran her fingers through her wet hair.

'I think Bella will be very pleathed to thee you, Mithtress.'

Maria-Argenta turned and winked at me and then left me alone with my three fates.

*

If watching Mistress Maria-Argenta wash herself had filled my with unrequited lust, having three nubile pony girls washing me took frustration to a level that was near torture. The three of them teased me intimately, mercilessly; caressing my body, their tongues lapping, lips kissing, fingers stroking, probing; bodies pressing against me leaving me lost in a fog of arousal and denial that both surrounded and engulfed me; my only consolation was that they were in a similar position.

And they were likely to be in chastity for a lot longer than they were tormenting me.

At one stage, I thought I might cum as my cock strained and drooled but the three girls knew exactly what they were doing even down to blonde Maisy and one of her fellows pressing their bodies together in front of me in an intimate embrace, tongues in each others' mouths, chastity belts grinding together as the water ran over their naked skin.

'You like to thee pony girlth play together, Thenor?' The girl with the Castilian accent whispered to me as I watched them, her body pressed against my back, her fingers teasing my nipples as her companions snogged for my benefit and, probably, theirs too.

'Yes, Mistress.' I gasped and the three laughed.

Maisy and her companion turned towards me, the blonde contemptuously flicking my cock.

'I think we may have broken Mistress Maria's new pony boy.' She said teasingly. 'I thought he'd be more dominant.' She slid her hand around my balls and squeezed. 'But he's just a sissy slave'

I moaned in frustration.

'Come on.' Maisy said. 'We'd better get him back to his mistress.'

The girl behind me freed my hands form the bar above my head but immediately cuffed them behind my back and Maisy took up my cock leash. The three of them then lead me out of the shower block into the stableyard where a few ponies and players lingered; the ponies now restrained once again in their triangular sleeves although this distinction seemed to make little difference to the way they interacted; to one side, two ponies leaned side by side against a hitching bar, their arms sheathed behind them and balanced on pony boots; they were chatting and laughing and leaning in to touch shoulders in the same way that a girl who wasn't restrained might reach out to touch a girlfriend' arm or shoulder; both were, of course, fully chaste.

One pair, however, were not taking part in the ponies' relaxation time; in the centre of the yard, a girl hung by her ankles between the whipping posts, her wrists cuffed behind her back, her companion knelt bent over one of the mounting blocks.

*

The three girls lead me across the stableyard to a building on the far side and one of them keyed in a code on a panel by the door which then hissed open admitting us into an airconditioned room. It was cool after the warmth of the stableyard and smelt vaguely of antiseptic; some sort of medical room perhaps. It would have been very pleasant if the water from the shower wasn't still drying on my skin and the notion that something unpleasant might be about to happen.

'Thank you, girls.' Maria-Argenta entered, dressed again in the uniform of the stablehands although, once again her brown nipples were obvious beneath the sheer white blouse. 'I hope you didn't go to far.'

'Of course not, Mistress.' The girls giggled and left me naked and cuffed, the leash hanging from my throbbing cock.

'I thought you might like to see why I've used you as a pony?' Maria-Argenta said taking my leash and leading me through another door.

The room we entered was similar to the first one, white walls and a smell of antiseptic. There was, however, one important difference. In the centre of this room was a girl, standing, no, hanging I realised; she wore something that looked rather like a polo harness and her arms were sheathed behind her in the typical triangular arrangement; the harness was, however, more heavy duty; thick straps across her shoulders and a girdle like those field mares wore in Mares-de-Launce; the harness had thigh cuffs too and these appeared to help support the girl's weight. Her legs were spread, chains from her ankles keeping them apart and straight; but there was something else around each of her shins; it took me a moment to realise they were external fixators; I'd seen them on athletes with injuries before, screws drilled into bone to hold broken limbs in place, far more exacting than a plaster cast and necessary to maintain elite performance. A scar on the girls right lower leg beneath the fixator suggested a nasty break; the scar on the left was far neater, surgical probably. It was then that I realised that her ankles were not chained with cuffs but by pins through her heels. However, this wasn't the only disturbing feature of her bondage; up and down her legs dozens of needles pierced the skin, each connected to wires that ran to some sort of control box.

'This is Bella.' Maria-Argenta said. 'My usual pony.'

Bella opened her eyes; they were quite beautiful, cat-like in shape and turquoise like a tropical sea. I guessed she was quite pretty with the ringlets of chestnut brown hair framing her face but her nose and mouth was hidden by a huge black leather muzzle from which emerged a thin plastic tube.

'Bella met with an unfortunate accident a few weeks ago.'

The pony's eyes flicked toward her mistress.

'A tragic but well recognised occupational hazard, especially for a centre attack pony.' Maria-Argenta stroked one of Bella's breasts then played with the piercing rings. The girl's breasts were quite large for a pony, especially the kind I had seen here.

'What you are seeing is state of the art.' Maria-Argenta said with a degree of pride. 'Bella is trialling a prototype device form the Titan-Longue corporation in which my family has a controlling interest. The needles provide electric stimulation to the muscles while the patient is immobile.'

I was familiar with the concept but the extreme nature of this was surprising.

'The scientists claim she may actually be fitter at the end of her treatment than before.'

'Really?' Professional curiosity had got the better of me and I stepped closer; perhaps ponies did forget their inability to use their hands.

'I took the opportunity to do a little experiment of my own.' Maria continued. 'While the surgeons fixed her right leg, had her left leg broken and fixated too. When healed, both legs will be about an inch and a half longer than before giving lovely Bella here more stride length.'

I found the thought unsettling; there is a lot of contention in the world of athletics about what is legal and what is cheating and what is immoral.

'You really think it will make her faster?'

Maria-Argenta shrugged. 'Probably.'

'Isn't that cheating.'

'Oh, PonyGirl polo has no rules in that area but I won't be using her for matches.'

I was puzzled.

'She's far too valuable to me to risk again.' Maria stroked the side of Bella's face and the girl looked at her mistress' hand. 'I'm going to use her as a mascot, to lead my team onto the field.' She turned and looked at me. 'You must have noticed her breasts.' Maria-Argenta lifted the girl's right breast. There was a scar beneath. 'Way too big for a ponygirl. I'm having them enlarged but it will take several weeks to complete the process. They'll be as big as your Barbie Doll's soon.' She tweaked the nipple, smiling. 'Bigger! Bella here is going to by my own living doll... Constructed to my own specifications.'

What she was doing to the girl should have felt barbaric but it was impossible to hide the reaction of my own body to it. I was at once horrified and fascinated and very relieved that Maria-Argenta's attention was directed elsewhere.

'Of course, I've had a few other things done too.' She slid her fingers under the bottom of the girl's collar exposing a fresh scar. 'You'll be familiar with this; I know you've already met my brother's dancing girls. And then, there are the fine platinum electrodes implanted in her erogenous zones...' Her fingers returned to Bella's breasts. 'By the time I'm finished I will be able to turn her off and back on again at the flick of a switch.'

She turned to face me.

'Which means I'm looking for a new competition pony.' Maria-Argenta stepped towards me, raising her hand to stroke the side of my face just like she'd done with Bella. 'Such a shame they don't allow pony boys on the field.'

I took a step back.

'Though, I'm sure, we could soon change that.' She jerked on my leash. 'It's amazing what can be done with surgery.' She pressed her body against me, her hand sliding up behind my head as she pulled me as if into a kiss, her lips inches from mine. 'As I said, the rules in pony polo are rather vague when it comes to gender identity.'

My throat went dry and I could feel myself sweating.

'Pity you're not good enough.' Her smile vanished and she brought her knee up into my groin.

'Ugghhh!' I gasped, my knees buckling though I managed to stay on my feet. 'Come along Slave. I have a pussy to whip.' She said jerking my cock leash and dragging me from the room.

*

CHAPTER 23: PUSSYWHIPPED

*

I left Bella behind with a strange mix of relief and disappointment somewhat overwrought by what I had endured through the day and learnt of Maria-Argenta; the juxtaposition of such intense beauty and her complete control over everything that entered her sphere of influence. I was still, however, under her spell or, perhaps confused; I certainly dropped to my knees in the dirt of the yard beside the whipping posts when Maria-Argenta commanded.

A groom handed her a whip. This was La Vibora, the viper, I had used on my two errant ponies and I watched the way Maria-Argenta let the coils fall to the floor then run it across her hand almost sensually, as she enjoyed the feel of the leather. Then she looked at the helpless player hanging by her ankles, arms spread, tied to the base of the posts; naked, devoid even of her chastity belt; the rose of her pussy gaping, petals glistening in the evening sun.

The girl's face was pale and her eyes wide with fear. She was clearly of oriental origin; amber, almond shaped eyes and a flat face with prominent if rather steep angles to her cheeks.

The whip struck and the girl hissed with pain. A red welt appeared on the inside of her right knee.

The second stroke produced a matching mark on the inside of the girl's left knee.

And so, Maria-Argenta administered the girl's punishment meticulously and perfectly, working down the inside of the girl's thighs towards the gaping pussy. There was no doubt she was making an example of the girl, whipping her thighs to build tension towards the agony that would follow and I could see the effect was not lost on the watching ponies and players many of whom subconsciously seemed to be holding their hands over their sexes despite the protection of the chastity belts they wore or pressing their legs together in anticipation of the pussywhipping that was to follow. I saw one player literally press her hand protectively over the sex of her pony who smiled slightly and pressed her body against the player's.

We all shared the shame and humiliation of the helpless girl our eyes fixed on the growing number of stripes that bloomed on her the soft flesh of her thighs, progressing inexorably towards her pussy though none of us could share her pain. As I watched mesmerised and genuinely horrified at the stiff erection that had sprouted as a result of the whipping, I thought I could see a line of healed scars from a previous punishment but it might have been a trick of the evening light.

Then the whip reached her pussy.

Until this moment, the girl's cries had been muted and she had hung relatively still though tears streamed from her eyes. However, as the whip lashed the red flower of her pussy she screamed and bucked wildly thrashing in her bonds and sobbing openly, begging her mistress for mercy. The tightness of her bondage meant she could to little to evade the whip and it struck again producing the same response.

'Please, Mistress. No more...'

'Gag her.' Maria-Argenta's voice was dark and fierce and, I thought from the flush in her cheeks, she was very much enjoying the pain she was inflicting.

A groom rushed forward and forced a large ball gag into the girl's mouth making her protests unintelligible though not silencing them completely; the girl continued to whimper.

'Kisoumo!' Maria-Argenta ran the whip across her fingers then held them to her nose. 'You deserve this every day for a week for losing the ball to... that...' Maria-Argenta gestured towards me and I felt my face burn. 'You will spend the rest of the season as a pony in the seconds. Perhaps there you will learn better self discipline.'

Kisoumo sobbed and Maria-Argenta began to lash her pussy again.

*

The whipping seemed to go on and on and I could see tears in the eyes of some of the ponies and players as they watched the hapless Kisoumo beaten until she could cry no more.

'Please.' I said it when I could bear it no longer. 'Enough.'

Maria-Argenta looked at me with barely concealed anger.

'Masie.' She called with cold disdain. 'Get rid of that.'

She gestured to me with the whip.

I swear the pretty blonde blanched as she walked passed her mistress and bent to pick up my cock leash. I stood and followed her in silence as she lead me to the gate and pulled it open.

Then she shoved me out though i thought there might be the faint hint of acknowledgement on her face.

The large gate banged shut behind me, locking shut with a final click. I stood naked and cuffed with the leash dangling from the cock and balls wondering how I was going to explain this when I got back to The Hacienda. In frustration more than hope I shoved my shoulder against the heavy metal gate; then, suddenly realised I wasn't alone.

The guard stood behind me, the female one, sunglasses, earpiece, tight fitting dark suit and, of course the assault rifle in her hands.

'Can I help you, Senor?' She asked in a somewhat amused tone.

I considered my options, even for a moment, the possibility of trying to charm my way out of the situation but I had already endured enough humiliation for one day.

'No, thank you, Senorita.' I said tersely. 'I'm just on my way back to The Hacienda.'

'Very good, Senor.' She looked me up and down and then gestured. 'Follow the path to the right through the trees.'

'Thank you, Senorita.' I turned and walked off with the leash swinging from my cock and with as much dignity as I could muster.

*

I was probably about half way back when I heard a sound behind me and turned to see the guard driving a pony gig with Kisoumo trailing behind leashed by a rope around her neck; the girl was running barefoot with her arms strapped to some sort of metal yoke across her shoulders; it was clearly heavy and the little oriental was almost staggering under its weight. A phallic gag, a huge rubber dildo bouncend in front of her face as she ran and a tail swung behind her; nipple bells completed her humiliation. Her eyes were red and streamed with tears. It was a wonder the little oriental could stand, let alone run, the welts between her thighs shone a livid red.

'Senor.' The guard called as she drew her pony to a beside me much to the relief of the abused Kisoumo. 'I have brought these.'

She held out my clothes.

'And this.' She pulled the pony to a halt and produced a key.

I smiled with relief and turned round so she could release my wrists.

'Thank you, Senorita.' I rubbed my wrists.

'That.' She pointed to the leash. 'You will have to remove yourself.'

I undid it and hurriedly began to pull on some clothes. After a few moments, I realised that the guard was still watching me.

I smiled nervously and the guard pulled off her sunglasses to reveal lovely dark Spanish eyes.

'Senorita.' I said in my best Spanish. 'I think I was a little rude to you earlier. Please accept my apologies.'

She smiled and nodded. She was quite pretty and I was incredibly horny.

'You have done me a great favour.' I smiled back. 'Perhaps I could do something for you in return.'

I reached out and took her hand, saw her smile.

Then she tipped her head back and roared with laughter.

'Oh no, Senor.' She said clearly fighting for control of herself. 'I need a real man.'

She laughed again the gig shaking through a combination of her laughter and that of her pony.

Kisoumo simply stood with her head down looking miserable.

Then the guard wiped her eyes and took up her whip urging her pony into motion; member the firsts the girl between the shafts may have been but she was clearly laughing so much it took her a moment to gain control of herself then I watched her prance away, her shoulders still shuddering with laughter.

*

It was almost dark when I reached the stables and I had an urge to see Bryony but, when I got to her stall, she wasn't there. PLT wasn't there either.

'The redheaded pony is... in the care of Don Hernan.' Juan told me. 'He requested her especially.'

'Oh.' After the day I'd had, an evening with my familiar pony would have been welcome.

I looked at the punishment square in the centre of the stableyard. Rubber Dolly seemed to have managed a whole day without upsetting StableMistress Juanita. I wondered if perhaps I could seek her out instead.

'You have eaten, Senor?'

I suddenly realised how hungry I was.

Juan took me to his office produced a meal of bread, chorizo, olives and tomotoes and we shared this along with a glass of the Hacienda's new vintage.

'I am thinking that Camilla would make a fine bedfellow tonight, Senor.' He said wiping his mouth.

*

'Camilla thought you had abandoned her, Senor.' The lovely little pony was kneeling in her stall in full harness though unbridled; chained to the ring in the centre by her nipple piercings.

'I thought you didn't think me much of a player.' I let myself in.

'Oh.' She made a small soft noise in the back of her throat. 'Camilla may have been... hasty in her judgement.'

She really was delicious, kneeling so submissively, helpless, her body in shadow and her glossy black hair shining in the low light of the lantern. I walked around her, enjoying her helplessness.

'While it is true that Senor has more to learn about polo.' She said carefully. 'It is clear to me that Senor knows how to... handle a woman.'

Based on my performance today I wasn't sure that was true I had a sudden urge to drive a pony girl.

'I should practice.' I gathered her hair, pulling it back, it was thick and strong; I slipped a thong round it to hold it in place.

'It is dark, Senor.'

'I can't see that it matters to a hooded pony.' I took down the hood, pulling it over her face, smoothing it and lacing it up behind.

She was beautifully helpless now, and would be more so.

I unclipped the chain holding her in place and tugged gently noticing she winced slightly.

'You are injured?'

'No, Senor.' She said, her voice trembling, husky. 'My nipples were conditioned last night. They are sore.'

I remembered the techniques used in different stables.

'How is that done here?'

'They are rubbed with rough board like that used for sanding wood and then brushed with chilli powder.

I tried not to wince.

'You will find me very responsive this evening, Senor.' She paused and I saw her lips curve into a smile. 'Very attentive too.'

I lead her out into the yard.

'Why did you become a pony?'

'I am a better pony than a player.'

'I meant why did you join the stables.'

She turned as if to look at me even though she was hooded and I wondered if this was a universal ability of all women no matter what their background.

'It... appealed to me.'

She paused, thinking and I took the opportunity to attach her to the shafts of a gig.

'I was the third daughter of a Don.' She continued. 'My elder brother and sister were very bright but I struggled in school, I could not pass the university exam board. My father could probably have used his influence to get me in but I wanted to do something different. Otherwise I would always be living in the shadow of my siblings.'

'And did your father use his influence with Don Hernan.'

She stiffened. 'No, Senor! This I did by myself!'

'I think there might be another reason you chose this... career.'

'And what might that be, Senor?' She turned to face me again. Uncanny! I knew from the tone of her voice that she understood my comment.

'Where I come from, slaves who lie to their masters are punished.' I told her, clipping the reins to her nipples and pulling them firmly.

'She winced again. I'm not a slave, I'm a pony.'

'Really.' I lifted the reins pulling on her sensitive nipples.

'Senor...!'

I eased the tension on her nipples.

'Si, Senor. Camilla is submissive.' She admitted.

'And the other girls?' I asked, clipping the centre chain between the rings on the inside of her breasts.

'Not all are submissive though many are.' She said, before adding with a smile. 'Some are dominant.'

'And are you all little rich girls living out your S&M fantasies?'

'Girls come from a variety of backgrounds. PonyGirl polo is a growing sport in Argentina; especially among the young people. Many girls want to be ponies or players; they like the excitement, to be celebrities... stars. Many young men wish to be grooms.'

'I bet they do.'

'It is an opportunity for many, a chance to escape poverty or... unhappiness. It can be a hard life but the rewards are many.'

'Especially if you're a submissive little senorita.'

'Si, Senor.' She bowed her head in acknowledgement.

Looking round, I checked we were alone or, at least, unobserved then I bent and gently kissed each of her nipples.

'Senor has a vey gentle touch.' She squirmed deliciously, blindly. 'But I hope he will not be too gentle with Camilla.'

I picked up the bridle and pulled it over her head, easing the bit into her mouth then tightened the straps firmly and methodically despite my enthusiasm to take her. I could sense her eagerness too.

When she was ready, I checked her harness then took a moment to enjoy her, standing there, harnessed and bridled, head up, shoulders back, her little breasts thrust forward, nipples stiff; her belly was taut, flat; her back slightly rounded, bottom full; thighs trim, calves tight tapering to her 'hooves'.

I couldn't resist touching her, not out of necessity this time as when I'd been harnessing her but because I wanted to, because I could; she was mine. Gently, I stroked her breasts, brushing the sensitive nipples and then I cupped her perfect round bottom. Her breathing became faster, her nostrils flaring; I was sure I could smell her arousal in the cool night air.

'Master wants you to do something for him.' I whispered.

She stiffened slightly then nodded a fraction.

'I'm not punishing you but, where I come from, I like to see a pony with a tail.'

She stiffened but then nodded again.

I knew where it was kept and I left her standing, helpless, waiting for me while I fetched it from her stable.

She shuddered as I pushed it into her, twisting and locking it.

'Remember I said, Master is not punishing you.'

She nodded. Her breathing was rapid, her nostrils flaring, her body eager with anticipation.

Then I climbed into the gig enjoying the sight, almost a silhouette now in the darkness of my lovely pert ponygirl with her tail hanging behind her lovely round bottom. I could have easily spent a few minutes more just looking at her but she was so charged with excitement that I wasn't sure I could hold her back much longer.

*

CHAPTER 24: SHIRAZ' NIPPLES

*

I flicked the whip, calling to her to trot which she did immediately, a beautiful high trot that would have scored her a perfect ten in the dressage back at Mares-de-Launce.

She was, once again, a delight to drive, a well tuned sportscar, responsive and, dare I say it, throbbing with power. I drove her up the hill, a beautiful rising trot then a canter despite the incline. She was a polo pony and as fit as they come; from my time in harness, I knew now more about what a body could achieve and how to make this happen. On a couple of occasions, she seemed to be trying to slow but I used the whip sharply and she maintained her speed.

By the time we stopped, we were probably no more than two hundred yards from the firsts' stable. I could see lights through the trees. Ahead of me, Camilla stood gasping. It was very dark here in the woods and I could barely see her, just the occasional glint of a buckle or the flash of pale skin when the moon emerged from behind a cloud. After the heat of the day, the temperature was dropping fast.

The firsts were, I told myself over-rated; Maria-Argenta was not my type.

The moon came out suddenly, pale light bathing Camilla's skin, giving her a strange, ghostly appearance; I saw the cloud of her breath.

I turned her back onto the road and let her walk for a few minutes before whipping her to a trot.

I pulled over when the Hacienda was in sight and climbed out of the gig; then I released my panting pony from between the shafts and lead her onto the side of a training field. She followed obediently and, when I pulled down on her reins, dropped to her knees, spreading them.

She was so beautiful in spite of the hood; or perhaps because of it. I could make her anyone; fantasise that she was Maria-Argenta or, perhaps, Bryony. I didn't; I had my obedient polo pony for the evening.

I went down on my knees too and bent, kissing her nipples again, enjoying her squirm. She skin was wet, salty; I could taste the chilli powder too.

Then I undid her bit and kissed her, pushing myself against her and feeling her respond.

'Let Camilla please you, Master.' She gasped.

'Camilla already pleases me.' I told her, kissing her again.

I pushed her backwards so she lay with legs folded under her, hips up, sex open, presented to me.

I'd been used as a pony by the most beautiful woman I'd ever met, teased by naked chaste women, lead around on a cock leash, humiliated and now I was in control of a beautiful, submissive and eager pony. I really couldn't wait much longer.

She was warm and wet and just as responsive as I expected but not as ready as I was. I thrust hard onto her, enjoying the tightness of her pussy and her moans my climax building... urgent... blissful.

I came quickly and felt her thrust against me, eager for her own orgasm but I knew she was some way off and, as I pulled out of her, she moaned with frustrated lust.

'Senor...!' She whispered the word. "Please...'

'Patience.' I told her sliding my hand between her legs to provide some relief from the need she felt.

'I can get fingers and tongues in the stable, Senor.' She said, slightly irritably.

'Then you'll have to wait.'

'You are not going to put me back in harness?' She sounded surprised.

'Only if you misbehave.'

'Camilla will be good girl.' She said quickly.

She was, a very good girl and a very hot one too, screaming so loudly when I tongued her that I was forced to put her bit back in. I worked on her until she was thrashing her head from side to side and whimpering the need for hard cock inside her.

It didn't me long to get hard again and then I pushed myself into her.

'Oh, Shenor.' She moaned as I entered her. 'Shi, shi, shi...'

She climaxed loudly and my own orgasm built and then came again just before me, her body spasming repeatedly until I spurted inside her and and we both lay gasping.

'I hope you are not minding your pony to be limping tomorrow.'

*

The sun was rising when I trotted Camilla back into the stableyard.

'We were, becoming worried, Senor.' Juan said, stifling a yawn as he lead two hooded second team ponies towards a pair of waiting gigs.

'I've brought her back safely.' I said.

'We were not worried about her, Senor.' He said using his whip to halt the pair. 'It would not go well with us if we lost one of Don Hernan's honoured guests.' He said with a laugh. 'I think you are just in time for breakfast, Senor.' Then he looked at Camilla. 'Camilla on the other hand is late and will be punished.'

She hadn't mentioned this is a possibility.

'I shall take her from you, Senor.'

'Yes, thank you, Juan.' I climbed out of the gig and patted Camilla on the bottom.

'Was she a bad girl, Senor?' Juan was looking at her tail.

'Yes.' I said with a smile. 'Positively wicked.' I passed him Camilla's reins and walked away.

*

The others were all at breakfast; Marie-Argenta included but I managed to avoid eye contact as I poured myself a strong coffee and slid onto a bench beside Goose.

'You look like shit!' She said in her usual no-nonsense manner.

'It must be Wednesday then.' I said sarcastically as I sipped my coffee.

'Yes.' She said. 'Apparently, I'm playing with the firsts today.' She lowered her voice. 'Is that where you were yesterday?'

I nodded, glancing up at Maria-Argenta despite my resolve not to.

She was just so gorgeous and I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy that she was going to be playing with Goose today.

'Is she as much of a bitch as her reputation suggests?'

'Worse.' I was sore and stiff in places I didn't think possible. I was also reminded of some of the cruelties I'd seen in the firsts' stable.

'Oh joy!' Goose said. 'Cause I can't help feeling I'm going to be playing pony.'

Maria-Argenta started towards us and I forced myself to look down.

Then she was standing above me.

I looked up; she was so beautiful.

Maria-Argenta blanked me.

'Shall we go.' She said to Goose.

'Yes, Mistress.' Goose stood up.

*

I was given the choice between Shiraz and Helena as my pony.

'I thought Senor had forgotten me.' Shiraz said as I fetched her from her stall.

Helena simply glared at me, but then, she was gagged and sported a series of whip-marks across her breasts that had nothing to do with a game of polo.

The two ponies were still chained at opposite ends of the stall by their clit piercings.

I clipped a lead rein to Shiraz' nipple rings and then unclipped her clit.

'You have a lovely gentle touch, Senor.' Shiraz said as she stood.

As usual in the stable, they'd been stabled booted and with their arms sheathed.

I lead her out into to yard and began to harness her.

Two players from the firsts were harnessing Bryony and PLT, commenting that the two English ponies were still not pierced.

Shiraz, of course, although her nipples were not 'rigged' so, after fitting her harness, I had the pleasure of rigging the nipple rings of a fully pierced polo pony, clipping the chain between the rings on on the inside of her areoles and then fastening the reins to those on the outside. I was just about to clip the little chains to the small horizontal rings through her nipples when Valentina appeared behind me.

'You should sensitise her before we go out.' The coach handed me something that looked like a nail file and a small pot of liquid.

'Please be gentle, Senor.' Shiraz tried to take a step back but I was holding her reins.

'Should I bridle you first?'

'No, Senor. Shiraz will be a good pony.'

I could see one of the players rubbing the nail file over her pony's nipples. She was holding the girl's breast and had her reins wrapped around her forearm to keep her still. The ponygirl had her eyes closed and looked tense; she was biting hard on her bit.

I did the same, holding one of Shiraz' neat little breasts as I rubbed the file over her nipple. Like the other pony she closed her eyes and whimpered gently though was clearly trying to hold herself still.

After a few moments her nipple red and raw, bleeding in a few places.

Shiraz' eyes were screwed up tight and I thought I could see tears squeezing through onto her lashes.

I moved on to prepare the other nipple.

Behind me there was a scream and I turned. The player who I'd been watching had applied the chili liquid to her pony's nipples.

I turned back to find Shiraz looking at me, her lovely dark eyes moist with tears.

'Ready?'

'Si, Senor. Shiraz will be good girl.'

I poured the liquid from the vial into my hand, rubbed my palms together. Even as I did so I felt a slight burn from the liquid. Then put my hands on Shiraz' breasts.

She screwed her eyes tight and whimpered slightly but did not cry out then she looked at me with eyes that were overfull with tears; I them spill out onto her thick, dark lashes. Her lip was trembling.

It would have melted the heart of a lesser man and I had to fight down the urge to take her in my arms.

As it was, I wiped the tears away.

'Gracias, Senor.' She said; her voice trembled.

I gave her a moment while I went to fetch her hood and bridle and she stood quietly as I put them in place.

Then, I took the little chain from her reins and clipped it to the small ring in her nipple. The chain is designed to be slightly too short, to stretch the nipple a little to the side making it constantly under tension, exquisitely responsive to the tug of the rein. Again, she gasped slightly around her bit; her nipples were swollen to almost twice their usual size and so red they were practically glowing.

I couldn't resist touching them in turn gently stroking them then quickly turned round to make sure nobody was watching such obviously sentimental behaviour.

Needless to say, Bryony was looking straight at me. Fortunately, I was spared any blushes as, at that moment, her player pulled a hood over her head and buckled it in place.

*

CHAPTER 25: WEDNESDAY EVENING

*

Goose was in the courtyard of the Hacienda when I came down from my room that evening. We'd been invited for drinks and dinner. She was wearing more make-up than usual and underneath I could see she looked tired. She was wearing a long dress too, pink of course, a sort of gauzy floating number that, I suspected, didn't press to hard against anything sore. If her day had been anything like my own experience of the firsts, she probably ached all over.

'Good day with the firsts?'

'Oh, yes.' She gave a slight smile.

'More fun than your night of passion with Don Carlos?'

Goose glared at me then suddenly there were tears in her eyes.

'Are you ok?'

'I'm just tired.' She said in a very un-Goose-like manner wiping a her eyes.

'I'm sorry.' I said. 'Was it awful'

I imagined him pawing her, a man twice her age...

She was silent for a moment then shook her head.

'No, that's it.' She wiped her eyes again. 'In fact, it was wonderful. He was.. such a gentleman. He made me feel...' She was blushing under her make-up. 'He made me feel special.'

I looked around wishing there was someone else there to help me out. Women were good at these things but most of them were chained up in the stable. It all sounded a bit Mills and Boon to me. I put my arms around her.

'Sorry.' She said nestling her head onto my shoulder. 'I really must be tired.'

I'd never seen the Goose like this.

'It's just... I'm... Well, I'm me. People see me as 'The Goose'.' She didn't use the word 'loose'. 'Sometimes, I just want to have someone special.'

'You've got Pretty.' I felt awkward but held her trying remember she wasn't just another hot ponygirl pressing herself against me as her body seemed to be suggesting.

'Oh yes.' She sighed. 'Pretty is a lot of fun and she absolutely loves to be dominated but...' She's' she looked around. 'She's lovely but, well, she's a bit... thick really. I mean she's a beautifully submissive and... well gorgeous; and those tits... but she's hardly someone I can relax with; get stimulation from... well, other than that sort of stimulation. Besides, she knows what she wants.'

I'd thought the same about her. After her photoshoot with Bryony she's been pestering Terry for another one and I could see the way she behaved round the grooms. 'You must have friends through work.'

She stood up and smiled wiping away the tears. 'Yes, those city boys love to be dominated.' She smiled through the tears. 'I have the most amazing pair of shiny black thigh boots in my flat in London and they're very clean.' She force a laugh. 'But they're just after a good time.'

I managed to repress the urge to ask if they paid for her services. I'm not that crass.

'You'll meet someone...' I said rather lamely. 'It's not as if you're not without admirers here.'

'Oh, Mike, you know what I mean. You get frustrated with Bryony when she's in full submissive mode. Sometimes you just want to sit down with a coffee and talk about... oh, I don't know... the weather... literature...' He voice trailed off.

Girls do share little intimacies!

'Don Carlos was just... caring.' She continued. 'And funny... a gentleman.'

'You talked about art and literature all night?'

'God no!' She laughed. 'He spanked me soundly and fucked me senseless but in between... it was one of the best fucking nights I've ever had.'

I watched as she wiped her eyes and looked around. 'You know she bought a one way ticket don't you?' She said suddenly.

'What?' I said, suddenly alarmed.

'Pretty, not Bryony you twat.' Goose said with a condescension that suggested she was getting over her morose mood.

'I didn't.' I was... actually, I wasn't that surprised. PLT knew what she wanted and had the pretty smile and pert little body to get it.

'So your fucking mate Justin had better be at the airport with a bunch of flowers when we get back or that chastity belt I've left him in is staying on til next Christmas.'

The Goose was back and, I thought for a moment, Justin was probably a very lucky man.

'Come on.' I said taking her hand. 'Let's go and get a drink.

*

Barbie and Charles were already on the terrace with Don Hernan. The luscious blonde was wearing a blue silk dress that was laced together on one side with a gold thread; it barely covered her fabulous breasts and the slit at the side went all the way to her waist; Cassie would have hated it.

They'd been out for the day.

'Don Hernan has been asking me about the Mares team.' Barbie said.

'So do we officially have a team?' I was still a little unclear that this was anything substantial.

'Oh, yes.' Barbie smiled. 'Los Lanceurs'

She showed me a picture of badge; a lancer from the Napoleonic era standing holding a horse with the silhouette a of pony girl next to him.

'Nice.'

The next sketch showed a blonde pony who bore a striking resemblance to her daughter Cassie; the pony wore in a cream harness; and bridle; stock collar, boots to the thigh; she was being lead by nipple reins by a girl in a cream military style costume; Dolman jacket with gold buttons and braiding, tight breeches, cavalry boots.

'Are we really up to this?' Goose asked peering over my shoulder.

'It is all about showmanship, Senorita.' Don Hernan said. 'I was hoping your team could put in an appearance at the match on Saturday.'

'I'm not sure we're ready for that.' Now I really was worried.

'Miguel, you do not have to play.' He laughed. 'That would not be a good thing; but 'the English team' Los Lanceurs, it will lift he occasion; inspire interest...'

'What are you asking for?' I asked.

'That you and Senorita Goose attend in your team's colours with a pair of your lovely English ponies.'

'Bryony and Pretty.' Charles added.

'Don Hernan is very excited by the idea.' Barbie said.

'Not to mention the business opportunities.' Charles added.

Don Hernan frowned slightly but did not contradict him.

*

Dinner was much the same as the first time we had dined at our host's table although Don Hernan had dropped and pretense at 'respectability' and the potra who served us did so naked aside from toe boots and collars; they were all gagged too; large red balls strapped in their mouths. There was one for each of us: potra/servant/slave-girl whatever you want to call them; Charles, Barbie, Reuben, Goose and Don Hernan himself; a dusky beauty standing attentively beside us ready to attend to our every whim.

I was relieved that Maria-Argenta wasn't there even as part of me longed to see her again.

There was more dancing too but I didn't see Saher; she had at least another two weeks before she was allowed to dance again. It wasn't the dancer from Saturday night either.

I was, of course, offered the little brunette who had served me; Gracia, according to the tag on her collar; but I really needed to go to bed and I left as soon as was polite accompanied by Goose.

'Disappointed the lovely Maria-Argenta wasn't there?' Goose asked me as we left.

I shrugged.

'Don't give me that, PonyBoy!' Goose said with a laugh. 'I know all about your day with the firsts... all of it!'

'She's a very attractive woman.'

'Dominant too!' Goose said pointedly.

'So I believe.'

Goose looked at me skeptically.

'There's something I want to show you.' She said

She lead me down some back stairs into the basement of the Hacienda and passed a huge bodega full of bottle and casks. At the end of a damp stone corridor we came to a wooden door with iron bands. Goose pulled back a small panel in the door to let me see inside.

It was a medieval torture chamber or something very like it, complete with whipping posts, a giant wheel, various chains and cages, some dangling from the ceiling; it even had a stretching rack. It had its own torture victim too; a woman, hooded hanging by her wrists from chains that were bolted to the ceiling; they held her wrists about two feet apart; her ankles were chained too; short chains holding them to the floor, ankles again about two feet apart; the chains pulled tight, stretching the woman's body; displaying it and rendering it completely vulnerable; her toes stretched several inches above the floor. She, the victim, had skin the cafe-au-lait colour of many of the ponies in the stable but perhaps she was a little taller than most of them and she had very large breasts.

'Stablemistress Jauanita?' I asked quietly.

Goose nodded.

Stablemistress Juanita had clearly been enjoying the full delights the 'playroom' had to offer; hanging helpless and hooded; her body had clearly been abused; her skin was covered whip marks, many clearly the result of some sort of knotted or barbed whip that had in places torn her skin; there were other marks too, red, burns perhaps but it was her breasts that appeared to have suffered most and were still suffering; both were tightly bound at the bases turning them into huge dusky orbs, the skin where it was not bruised or burned was a frighteningly dark blue colour; each breast was decorated with several dozen pins that looked like acupuncture needles, blood dried around many of them where they entered the skin; she had standard pony piercings and the middle two rings were linked by a chain just like when in harness but the outer ones were stretched with thin cords tied to objects some distance away; the central rings were hidden as each nipple was crushed by toothed clamps hung with spiked weights. Between her spread legs, a heavy clamp similar to the ones in her nipples hung from her clitoris and this carried a similar spiked weight.

At that moment another figure appeared, more petite but with the same skin colour, her body beautifully toned, firm rounded buttocks and small neat breasts; lustrous dark hair; Maria-Argenta. The gorgeous Hispanic was dressed from head to foot in tight shiny black leather that moulded to her lovely body like a second skin; a high collar around her slim neck and straps down to a leather girdle that stretched enticingly, shiny and smooth over her small pert breasts and her lovely tight bottom. Her shoulders and the tops of her thighs were left bare; her boots coming to just above the knee and tapering to heels that pushed her almost onto the tips of her toes. These boots too were fitted with spurs but the spiked stiletto was just as formidable a weapon.

The click of Maria-Argenta's heels and the faint ring of her spurs sounded loud in the quiet of chamber and the helpless woman lifted her head as the little dominatrix stood in front of her.

'Did you miss me, Kitten?'

'Yes, Mistress.' Juanita's voice was little more than a whisper; hoarse.

'Well, I'm back now and we have all night.'

'Yes, Mistress.' The woman's head dropped forward slightly as if acknowledging her mistress's comment. Her body moved slightly; the weights on her nipples and clitoris beginning to swing.

Maria-Argenta reached out and stroked her fingers down the helpless woman's body as if she was studying the devastation that she had wrought upon it.

'I have to leave tomorrow.' She said sadly.

'I wish you could stay, Mistress.'

'So do I, Kitten.'

Maria-Argenta picked up something from a nearby table; a rod about a foot long with a handle and wires coming out of the base. She ran the tip of it over Juanita's skin and the woman flinched.

'Do you fear me, Kitten?'

'Yes, Mistress.'

'And do you love your mistress.' Maria-Argenta continued to tease her victim with the tip of the rod.

'Yes, Mistress.'

'And would you do anything for her?'

'Of course, Mistress, anything.'

'Good girl.'

I saw Maria-Argenta's thumb move slightly and saw the flash of a spark in the dim light jump from the tip of the rod to the stablemistress' skin; the helpless woman jerked in her bonds and cried out in pain.

'Such a very good girl.' Maria-Argenta moved the rod and, again, a spark jumped to the other woman's body. The reaction was the same.

The third spark lingered longer, flickering for several seconds and Juanita danced in pain, screaming.

'Please, Mistress.' The helpless woman gasped when the pain stopped. 'Gag your slave.'

'But that would spoil my fun, Kitten.' Maria-Argenta touched the woman again for even longer. 'I love to hear you scream.'

*

Goose closed the flap and we walked back up to the stairs in silence.

Don Hernan had gone and I could see Barbie and Charles out on the terrace. Reuben had presumably taken advantage of the offer of a potra or two or perhaps gone the the stables to find a ponyboy. The drinks were still out including the ice bucket and half a bottle of champagne. Goose grinned as she collected the bucket and refiled it with ice then holding the bottle in one had and the bucket in the other, invited me back to her room.

If I'd had any reservations about a night of sex if not passion with Goose they were dispelled when we entered her room.

A woman lay on Goose's bed with her arms stretched above her head, wrists cuffed to the headboard, her and her legs lifted up, spread and cuffed to the posts at the foot end. I didn't recognise her for a moment but, when I looked away from her spread legs, I could see she was striking; older than Goose, with the classic beauty of a high-born Spanish lady although in the large pink phallus protruding, pink and glistening from her mouth and the position in which she was tied suggested otherwise.

As Goose closed the door, the woman on the bed turned her head towards us revealing the other side of her face and I recognised Valentina.

'I hope you weren't bored.' Goose said putting down the ice bucket and pushing the champagne into it.

Valentina shook her head, the pink phallus dancing obscenely.

Goose found two glasses and poured us a drink.

'I hope you don't mind.' She said undoing her sandals.

I smiled and shook my head taking a sip of champagne.

'Would you?' Goose turned and lifted her hair.

'Oh?'

'Come on Mike, it's not as if you haven't seen it all before.'

I unzipped the back of the dress and Goose let it slide to the floor.

Goose wasn't one to bother with underwear but, for a girl that had been playing pony with the firsts, she had very little to show for it. There were some fresh scratches but these looked more like nail-marks.

She took her glass and sat herself on the bed leaning against Valentina's body.

I tried not to look too closely but they did make a delightful scene; the brunette helpless, humiliatingly bound and gagged; the blonde lounging against her, bare breasted and flashing the soft pink folds of her pussy at me.

'Pass me some ice would you.' Goose held out her hand and I dropped some ice into it.

Goose twisted and let some of the ice slide onto Valentina's right nipple. The helpless woman squirmed. Goose moved to her left nipple then she bent and kissed them making Valentina moan into her gag.

'So, this is what you meant by stimulating conversation?' I asked.

'I'll take her gag out in a moment.' Goose said taking another sip of champagne. 'Then we can talk tactics.'

'Really?'

'Or you can sit there and watch us fuck?' Goose responded.

She passed me her glass and turned to undo Valantina's gag before pulling it out of the woman's mouth.

I watched them kiss and then Goose took her glass back and fed a small sip to her prisoner.

'So, tactics...' Goose said.

And bizarrely we did; with Goose and Valentina naked we drank champagne and talked about polo moves until the bottle was empty.

By this time, Valentina's nipples had been repeatedly teased and Goose's fingers had wormed their way into her pussy so that the helpless brunette was struggling a little to keep her mind focussed.

'Any way, Mike.' Goose said suddenly when there was a lull in the conversation. 'Valentina and I have things to do. You're welcome to join us but...' She held up the penis gag. 'There's only one way this is going to be of any use to you.'

I could have suggested there were other ways I might entertain them but I felt it was time to withdraw although, curiously, I was tempted.

*

CHAPTER 26: SAUCE FOR THE GOOSE

*

After a night of celibacy I'd been rather looking forward to seeing Bryony the next morning but by the time I'd got the the stables she'd already gone. Apparently, it was her turn to play with the firsts. I had to content myself with the pleasures of Shiraz during the day. She really was shaping up as a nice, obedient little pony and, if I was any judge, would find herself a place in the seconds before long.

Bryony wasn't in her stall on the Thursday night either and I quickly found out that, after her day with the firsts, she had been summoned for a second night with Don Hernan. I felt a pang of jealousy but was hardly in a position to complain. She was, however, going to be a very tired little pony.

All was not lost though; there was a pony being punished in the centre of the yard and, when I went to investigate, I found Camilla stretched between the whipping poles in much the same way as Rubber Dolly had been the week before. She even had a multibladed whip between her teeth. I smacked her bottom and she turned, grinning around the whip. I thought I might be in for a bit of fun but Camilla shook her head looking down; I followed her gaze. She was wearing a chastity belt.

'You really have been naughty!'

She shrugged and pouted but clung onto the whip.

I patted her captive sex and she giggled, tossing her head then I left her to it figuring that, perhaps I might come back a little later and have some fun with Shiraz.

*

Back in the guest quarters, I wasn't too surprised to meet Goose on the way back to the room though I was a little surprised by the shiny pink PVC mini dress and matching ankle high toe boots she was wearing. Fairly typical for the Goose these days she was carrying a bottle of wine and, I thought, swaying slightly or perhaps it was the heels.

'Mike.' She turned and gave me what, for Goose, was a winning smile.

The dress had a zip at the front which was somewhere above the level of her navel providing a perfect view of her large round breasts.

'Entertaining again?' I asked with a grin.

'Pretty and I just having a quiet night in.' She said, her words slightly slurred. 'Care to join us?'

She fingered the zip of her dress pulling t down a little further allowing her breasts to fight their way a little further towards freedom.

'Why not.'

She turned to open the door.

I'd expected to find Pretty Little Thing stretched out on the bed like Valentina had been the night before but she was kneeling on the floor at the foot of Goose's bed with her hands tied behind her back; her collar was chained to the bottom of the bed. The little blonde was blindfolded and gagged and there were clover clamps hanging from her nipples. She bowed her head slightly as her mistress entered.

'They're very well geared up to keeping slaves here.' The Goose said putting her wine on the low table beside two glasses already standing there.

'They certainly are.' I watched as she bent forward and kissed the kneeling blonde on the top of the head. 'Are you wearing a tail?'

She turned and grinned at me. 'No, just a set of anal beads. They're all the rage these days.' She lifted the little PVC skirt of her dress revealing the smooth curve of her bottom which was surprisingly bruised. 'Perhaps you could help me remove them later. I'm told you're quite the expert.'

'I have my talents.' I told her. 'Can I ask how you got all those bruises.'

'You can ask.' She looked at me, pausing for a moment. 'You'll recall I spent the day with the firsts on yesterday...'

I hadn't recalled seeing them the previous evening but perhaps they'd only just come out or, perhaps, I'd been to busy looking at her breasts or at Valentina stretched helplessly on the bed.

'Drink?' She asked with a smile.

I nodded.

She opened the wine and poured two glasses, passing me one then, bent in a way that gave me a full view of the last any bead as she began to unzip her toe boots. 'You don't mind, do you.' She said looking over her shoulder. 'My feet are killing me. 'I've no idea how Pretty wears these things all weekend.'

I didn't mind at all.

She slipped out of the killer boots and, barefoot, turned back to face me, sitting in the armchair opposite and giving me more than a passing flash of pink pussy as she crossed her legs.

'Cheers.' She said, raising her glass.

We clinked glasses and each took a sip; the wine was beautifully chilled.

An awkward silence followed during which my gaze drifted over the blonde in the PVC minidress sitting opposite me. As I've said, the Goose isn't bad looking, nice eyes, rather big nose; she has a lovely body.

She has fabulous breasts too.

'You can take a closer look if you like.' She clearly knew exactly what I was looking at.

She pulled her zip all the way down and shrugged her shoulders out of the dress. I tried not to choke on my wine.

'There a good size for binding.' She said matter-of-factly.

'Really?'

'There's some lovely leather rope in the ottoman.' She rolled her wineglass across her right breast and used the rim to tease her nipple.

'Is there?' I put my glass down.

If her room was as well equipped as mine I could probably restrain half a dozen Gooses.

'Perhaps I'll let you try later.' She raised her eyebrows and took a sip of wine then she pressed her glass to the other breast, her nipples stiffening.

'Pretty!' She called sharply. 'Come to Mistress.'

I turned to see the pretty blonde crawling blindly forward. It was clearly something she was used to. She crawled past my chair and Goose lifted a foot, planting it on her slave's chest to stop her.

'Be a dear and remove her gag would you, Mike.'

I leant forward and undid the little blonde's gag strap, easing the large pink ball out of her mouth and depositing it on the table.

'Thank you, Sir.' PLT licked her lips. 'Thank you, Mistress.'

Goose's foot slid across the kneeling blonde's chest and she used her toes to play with one of the girl's clamped nipples. Like her fingernails, Goose's toenails were painted a soft pink.

I sipped my wine watching the display and trying not to make it too obvious I could see Goose's pussy. Fortunately, Goose transferred her attention to PLT's other nipple in a what looked to be a blatant attempt to display her sex.

'Suck Mistress' toes.'

I looked up sharply from Goose's pussy blushing but realised she was talking to PLT.

Goose pointed her toes, a rather sexy gesture which showed off or trim thigh and shapely calf, and slid them into PLT's mouth. The kneeling girl closed her lips around them eagerly.

'Good, girl.' Goose giggled, holding her foot still for a moment as PLT's tongue ran across under her toes.

'She's very well trained.' Goose looked at me and took a sip of wine.

'Down you come.' She turned back towards PLT and slowly lowered her foot. The kneeling girl followed, sucking and licking at her Mistress' toes until she was stretched out on the floor, lying on her belly, her wrists still bound behind her.

Goose switched feet and lay back in the chair.

'Ohhhh!.' she said with a smile. 'I do like these beads.'

She crossed her legs the other way.

'So, Mike.' I think you were about to go to the trunk to get that rope.

'Yes.' I stood up way too quickly then took a breath as I put my glass down.

There were a number of coils of braided leather rope in the trunk. They were like those that had been used when we'd done the girl hunt at the weekend. By the time I'd gathered them up, Goose had slipped out of her dress. She stood beside the leather armchair holding her wine, PLT still lying at her feet licking her mistress' toes.

'Enough.'

Pretty lifted her head and wriggled slightly backwards.

'How do you want me?' Goose asked.

'On your knees with your hands behind your head.'

'Ooooh, dominant.' She obeyed, moving slowly, sliding her fingers into her long blonde hair and gathering it up as she dropped to her knees. I might have punished Bryony for moving slowly but if she'd done it like that, I would probably have let her off; there was no doubt that Goose was flirting

I started with a chest harness, ropes above and below her breasts; with Bryony all I could do was hitch a loop between them and tighten them together around her little buds but Goose's tits were far larger and I found I could actually wind the ropes around their bases as well. In a few moments, the pale white flesh was turning a dusky blue.

'They get very sensitive like this.' She said with a slight smile. 'Sir.'

I hefted them in my hands playing with the nipples.

Goose moaned.

I looked down at Pretty still lying on her belly beside me. She was still blindfolded but must have known what was going on.

'If you're thinking of clamping my nipples...' Goose said. '... you'd better tie my hands first.'

She pushed her hair over her shoulder so it hung in front of her breasts and dropped her arms behind her back; even without any bondage, her elbows nearly touched.

I put a cinch of rope around her elbows and pulled them together, then I bound her wrists.

'You seem very well practiced.' She said testing her bonds.

'I try to keep up my hand in.'

She was quite flexible and, despite the bondage could easily bring her hands round in front of her body.

I put a few turns around her belly noticing the little pink pearl that pierced her navel.

'Ever thought of getting anything else pierced?' I asked.

'Occasionally.' She lifted her head and turned to look down at Pretty. 'That, probably.'

I took the opportunity to play with her nipples.

'Don't even think about it.' Goose said, glaring at me. 'My nips are staying virgin.'

'If you say so.' I stepped behind her and pulled her wrists up then tied them to the rope around her waist so her elbows stuck out behind her then reached over and had another play with her breasts.

'And they say men are useless at foreplay.' She said as I teased her nipples. 'There is another set of clamps in the trunk. It would be a shame to spoil Pretty's fun.'

I found them and clipped them to her nipples.

'I'd forgotten how much fun it was to play sub.' She said shaking her chest so the little chain between the clamps danced and clicked.

'You enjoyed your day with the firsts then?'

'Very much so.' She raised and eyebrow. 'Do I take it you've had a similar experience?'

'I might have done.' I tried not to blush.

'And you enjoyed it too?'

'I might have done.'

The Goose smiled. 'Anytime you want to repeat the experience, my door is always open. Perhaps we could use the troika and I could run you with Bryony and Pretty.'

'I'll pass.' I told her.

'You're loss.' She shrugged. 'Now don't go tying my legs together or you won't be able to fuck me.'

I looked at her with surprise and I think Pretty turned her head too. Goose had been flirting but I'd half expected the brush off and a request to be left alone with PLT engage in a little lesbian bondage fun (probably with instructions to come back and untie her later).

'I didn't bring you in here for a tongue-lashing and a bit of fun with a knotted crotch rope.' She said tersely. 'I can get all the tongue action I want from Pretty and you'd be amazed what a girl can wear under a business suit to keep her spirits up during long board meetings.' She smiled at my response. 'But sometimes a girl just wants real cock.'

'You really know how to make a man feel valued, you know.' I told her.

'You're so sensitive, Mike.' She chided. 'Man up. Sometimes girls just want a cock and that ripped body. You must have realised that this week.'

'You don't mind if I gag you, I hope.'

'I was hoping you would.' She said with a smile. 'I'd hate to lose control and kiss you by mistake.' Her cheeks were flushed now, and her chest; she was panting too, clearly aroused by the bondage. 'The gag Pretty was wearing will be fine. She'll need her mouth to pull out the beads.'

Beside me Pretty Little Thing squirmed.

'You'd better let her up.' Goose said. 'Those nipples will be throbbing by now.'

Leaving Goose tied, I lifted PLT to her knees the removed the little slave's blindfold.

'Thank you, Sir.' Pretty said. She was blinking her eyes against the light, something that looked very flirtatious with her huge eyes and long lashes.

'Don't let her pull the beads out too fast.' The Goose said from her kneeling position. 'And don't make me cum too quickly!'

Taking care not to say 'yes, Mistress', I pushed the gag into Goose's mouth then secured it behind her head. Then I blindfolded her.

'Mmmmmm!' Goose squirmed with pleasure.

She looked fabulous, tightly bound with the leather ropes dimpling her flesh, her mouth stretched round the huge pink ball. I love to see a girl blindfolded.

All I needed to do was arrange was the logistics.

There was a chair by the desk and I carried it over to where Goose was kneeling, guiding PLT to kneel in front of it. Then undressed.

'Stand up.' I told Goose.

She rose easily to her feet.

I sat on the chair and pulled her towards me, making her straddle me, then I guided her down onto my cock.

To my right the wardrobe mirror gave me a perfect side on view of the helpless blindfolded and gagged blonde with her breasts bound and nipples clamped.

In front of me, her bound orbs bounced enticingly.

'Mmmmmm.' She was very ready for me and I slipped into her easily.

I steadied her with my hands on her bottom and then, slowly, she began to ride me, tiny movements up and down while PLT licked and kissed her bottom and thighs and, at one point bending forward to lick the soles of her mistress' bare feet. As the Goose got into a rhythm, I simply hooked a finger into one of the ropes round her chest to keep her upright and took the opportunity to play with her breasts, pulling on her clamped nipples with gradually increasing force.

It was some time before the kneeling slave took the beads in her teeth and started to pull them out and even when she did so she did them one at a time, often pausing to to allow her mistress a few moments to recover from the obvious surges of pleasure the helpless dominant was enjoying. Pretty was clearly used to pleasuring her mistress' and, when Goose's cries rose in pitch around the gag, the little blonde clearly knew it was time to take the remaining beads out a little more quickly.

Goose began whimpering with pleasure, gasping a little more loudly as each bead came out and increasing her exertions around my cock until she threw her head back and howled into her gag, her legs shaking as she pumped up and down prolonging what was clearly an impressive orgasm.

'Ug... ug... ug...' She cried. Fuck... fuck... fuck...

I enjoyed a pretty good climax too, coming my load inside her before she slumped forward, sitting in my lap breathing hard and giving little whimpers each time my cock twitched.

*