Femdom Tales

Original stories about female domination: the world as it should be, through the fantasy lens of an authentic slave.

The dairy ponyboy (2/2)

While four-legged ponyboys were all comfort and easy control, two-legged ones could go much faster… but clearly required a skilled rider! Emily thought so while leaving the convent astride her new slave’s shoulders. She didn’t feel very confident yet, but she hadn’t dared to bother Sister Helen.

“You’ll be perfectly in control. Ben is very well trained, one of our best. He’ll sense if you’re losing balance and compensate with subtle movements of his shoulders” the nun had said. “Remember, my dear: from now on, he lives to serve you. He knows it’s the only chance to save his soul, thus he would let you ride him to death rather than disappoint you. So don’t show any mercy, and be always in control. Otherwise he could be tempted to lose the right way again!”

Emily mentally reviewed the events of that incredible morning while letting her new slave carry her home. She was a bit scared, being so high from the ground, but the shoulder saddle was very comfortable and the slave’s head between her thighs actually gave her a good grip.

She gradually took some confidence and started enjoying the ride. Being carried was so beautiful! Then she decided to make Ben strive a little more… and feel who was the boss! “Don’t be ever afraid to hurt him. The harder you hit him, the better for both his salvation and God’s happiness… not to mention your own satisfaction!” Sister Helen had told her with a bright smile. “And be cruel right from the beginning, even when it appears most unnecessary. He must live in constant fear of you, and always see you as the instrument God chose for his merciless expiation. Keep him in this status, and you’ll be enjoying the perfect slave.”

All right, slave. I’ve been riding you slowly so far just because I wanted to, but I can be your worst nightmare if I want. Let’s start having some fun. Emily dug her boots into the boy’s flesh with all her strenght, forgetful of the razor-sharp spurs Sister Helen had ordered Ben to fasten to her boots.

The ponyboy immediately broke into a full gallop, and his rider found herself on the brink of being unsaddled.

Emily managed to remain on saddle just by grabbing Ben’s hair with her hand. She regained her balance, and turned her sudden adrenaline from the escaped danger into excitement towards the ride. “You want to play hard, uh?” she said, and repeatedly spurred the boy again. Sister Helen was going to be proud of her.

Soon Emily started feeling the exhaustion of the boy’s muscles beneath her. It was a beautiful feeling. She let the slave slow down for a little while, then used the bridles to lead him toward a tree, out of the beaten track. “Down!” she ordered harshly.

Without even looking at him, Emily dismounted and took a thin branch from the tree. She wanted a whip to beat the shit out of him! Then she turned around, and for the first time ever she looked at his face…

She suddenly felt overwhelmed by guilty and sadness: he was almost young enough to be her son! His abdomen was marked and bleeding because of her spurs, his body trembling from the fatigue of carrying her… and, worst of all, he had an expression of pure terror. This was so unfair and wrong… What a monster have they turned me into?

“Are you all right, darling? Is that boy giving you any trouble?” A young pretty nun was addressing Emily with these questions from the beaten track.

“I’m all right, thanks” Emily replied, after a few seconds of hesitation. Actually she just wanted to be alone and assess her new feelings. “I stopped by to make a whip out of this tiny branch.”

“Nice idea. These sinners never get beaten up enough” the nun replied. “Can I ask you some help?”

“Of course. What can I do for you?” Emily asked. The nun was leading a large carriage, so much filled with goods from the convent that she barely had a spot to sit.

“I’ll show you.” She whipped the ponyboys and they desperately started pulling the heavy load, showing Emily that one of them was visibly limping. The nun harshly pulled the bridles and made them stop again. She was totally unconcerned with their fatigue. “He fell down and got injured, the idiot! Of course I’m forcing him to keep going… but I’m moving too slow. Would you mind helping me try another solution?”

Needless to say, Emily had to swallow her sad feelings and walk towards the nun, leading her slave by the reins. Sister Elizabeth, this was the young nun’s name, managed the whole thing in a few minutes: Ben was harnessed as replacement for the injured slave, while the latter got fastened to the rear: he would follow the cart or be dragged through the beaten track.

Emily’s slave still had the shoulder saddle on. “Ok, we’re done and ready. I’m afraid I don’t have enough space here for both of us to sit, so I should ask you to mount your slave as he pulls the carriage” the nun said.

Ben knelt down and Emily sat astride him. He remained still, waiting for orders. Emily looked at Sister Elizabeth, ready on the carriage, and she unwillingly said “Up, slave!” Of course he promptly obeyed.

Their trip begun. Sister Elizabeth repeatedly slashed the slaves’ bare back with a long whip, until the heavy carriage started moving and they reached a brisk trot. Then she kept regularly whipping them to maintain the challenging pace she wished.

Emily remained passively sat on Ben’s shoulders, adding her weight to his unbelievable effort and feeling him whimper every time one of those savage slashes hit his bare back. Does the nun want to kill these guys?

This was too much for the young woman, who 24 hours before had never seen a ponyboy. She broke down and cried… silently at first, then louder and louder… until Sister Elizabeth overheard her siccups and stopped the carriage.

They were terribly late for the town market, so the nun swiftly climbed on another slave’s shoulders and the ride could continue that way, with the two women riding aside on the slaves’ shoulders and talking.

“Why are you upset, darling?” Sister Elizabeth asked.

“I feel just terrible” Emily said. “I was enjoying my ride at first, but when I looked at his scared face… I asked myself what the hell I was doing… and that’s the exact moment when you called me from the beaten track.”

“Oh, poor girl. I know it can be hard at the beginning. But sometimes the ways of God are a bit mysterious. You just need to have faith! Yes, he can be scared, but that’s part of his redemption process… and you might feel sorry and guilty, but you’re just an instrument of God and you must go on!”

When Sister Elizabeth’s carriage reached its destination, the two slaves were simply finished. Emily spent some time with the nun, to help her with the fruit stand and catch up with the lost time. This way Ben could rest a little, but his muscles were so exhausted that when Emily finally mounted on his shoulders again he simply couldn’t stand up. Emily hesitated for a moment, then looked at the nun and knew what to do: a couple of harsh hits with the spurs into his abdomen summoned hidden energies and the slave lifted her up.

In the following weeks, although still upset by her mixed feelings, Emily couldn’t help but love having Ben in her service. Her grandma was happy again, the dog had become a quiet domestic animal and Emily’s life was much easier: Ben pulled the carriage, took the bins from it and served the clients. The young woman didn’t even need to get off the carriage anymore! She just drove it and took the money from her clients. She whipped Ben when needed, of course, but never showed the sadism and cruelty of her first time on his shoulders.

The worst moment of every day was when she took the harness away from him every afternoon, because of his scared and exhausted expression.

One day, for the first time ever, he talked to her, just as soon as she removed the bit from his mouth. “Why are you so upset, my Mistress? I keep doing my best, but your face is never happy…”

“Oh, no. You’re doing great, but I feel so sorry about the way I’m treating you!”

“Please, don’t be sorry. I never believed the whole story of expiating my sins. I endured my training at the convent waiting for the first chance to escape… and I could have run away from your stable from the first night…”

“Why didn’t you?” Emily hesitantly asked.

“Because I heard what you said to Sister Elizabeth, despite the effort of carrying you on my shoulders while pulling that heavy carriage. And for the first time in my life I felt that someone cared about me. I’m here because I want to serve you, to make your life easier and to please you for the rest of mine. I’m here because I love you!”

Emily broke down and cried, hugging the boy and getting her pretty dress wet with his sweat. “How can you love me? I just use you as a beast of burden!”

“Please, never stop doing it. You deserve this. You’re the most beautiful and thoughtful human being I’ve ever met, and the harder you whip me the better I’ll serve you. Please, let me stay in your service… and don’t be sorry anymore… just smile at me at the end of the day, and I’ll feel proud and strong enough to carry you across the whole England!”

Ben didn’t spend another night in Emily’s stable.

She still uses him as ponyboy and whip his back mercilessly, now with an untroubled smile on her face. He sleeps on the floor at night though, beside her bed, and she’s found kinky new ways of using the young slave. Life is beautiful, for both of them… because love can have very different forms… and the nuns were right on one thing: sometimes the ways of God can be a bit mysterious.

Filed under: Short stories

2 Responses

  1. Subhash says:

    Congratulations. Fantastic story. But I think it’s a little bit short. May be Emily should ride the boy with her spurs on, for some pleasure ride, or some description about her “new ways of using the young slave”. I think it would be great if she starts useing the boy’s mouth as her nignt chamber pot.
    Any way. Thanks for this nice story. Waiting for the next.

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