The Retreat – Part 3

I am starting to wonder if I can make it through this. I am so exhausted. Men are not meant to be ridden all day like beasts of burden, after all. Or are they?

Either way, the fact is that my back has been hurting constantly for the past couple of days, which makes it hard to sleep. And once I finally fall asleep, Alyssa wakes me up at least once in the middle of every night, so I can carry her to the bathroom on my back. Her pale thighs are so sexy as she seats on the toilet, and I wish she ordered me to dive in and clean her, but she keeps using toilet paper instead. She just doesn’t seem interested in any form of intimacy with me – or any man, for that matter. The only part of her body that I am allowed to lick is her beautiful feet and long toes. I do it with passion and enjoyment, but it feels like she only cares about having them clean at all times.

As a rider, she has gradually become more demanding since we got here. But there is something else: I feel like she’s suddenly embraced a gratuitously sadistic side in the past week, as my constantly bleeding ribs can testify. It all started after that night with Anne and Laura. Alyssa had promised to lend me to them, but – as I expected – she came with me and offered to stay. Something must have happened on that night to upset her, but it’s hard for me to figure out: they immediately blindfolded me and put earplugs into my ears. I was just steady on my hands and knees for hours, while their bodies sat and moved on me in so many different ways that I can’t recall them all. I know for a fact that – at one point – one body was laying with its back on my back, while the other two sat and moved on top of it. Oh, I wish I could have witnessed that scene…

bikiniMy thoughts are interrupted as I see something strikingly new. It’s actually one of the most politically incorrect scenes I have ever witnessed in my life: a pretty blonde girl is wearing nothing but cowgirl boots and hat and a confederate flag bikini, while walking towards a fit black woman. She kicks her hard in the ankle, and the woman immediately kneels down on one knee. The white girl mounts heavily, yanks the reins harshly, and the slave obediently stands up, keeping her neck bent forward to provide her rider with a comfortable saddle and placing her hands under the soles of her boots as stirrups. The rider looks very young and attractive, with the attitude of a true spoiled brat. And the carrier looks selflessly and genuinely dedicated to pleasing her. I have never seen anything so unfair, yet so intoxicatingly exciting!

(Note – I am not a racist: I would find it hot even if it was the other way around. I just think interracial S/M can look very erotic…)

Alyssa must be just as impressed by what just happened, because I immediately feel her spurs jabbing me to trot in that direction. A few seconds later, we are riding next to the new couple as the group starts a long morning ride and Alyssa makes her acquaintance with Jenny, whose spurs seem to constantly torture her black female carrier.

“My family has owned black slaves for centuries. I don’t see why I should deprive myself of the same comfort and pleasure…” Jenny says in a heavy Southern accent, when Alyssa asks about her relationship with her carrier.

“She is gorgeous. I would love to try riding her, one of these days” Alyssa responds.

“Well, I would love to ride your stud here. And I am not just talking about his back and shoulders! Do you realize how handsome he is?”

“Oh yes, I know. But I am not interested in him that way. So you could do anything you want with him.”

“Ok, that’s it. This is just so perfect. Let’s swap rides right now. I can’t wait to feel him between my legs. And you can do anything you want with my slut here.”

“That sounds great. But I recently swapped rides with another girl and ended up slowing down the whole group. Sally was not happy. So maybe we should wait until the afternoon…”

“I have a better idea. Let’s go faster for a little while to gain a head start, so we will have already swapped mounts by the time the group catches up with us!”

I can’t hear Alyssa’s answer, but it must be positive because I am immediately attacked by her spurs and riding crop at the same time. Jenny probably does exactly the same, because I can hear her “Yah!!” followed by an immediate grunt of her carrier, who is surprisingly able to keep up with me even though I am running for my life! Alyssa’s spurs keep jabbing me every few seconds to make sure I don’t slow down. I can hear her laugh with excitement and that makes me happy: I still love this girl, even though some of her recent behaviors have disappointed me. It’s my first time galloping under her though, and I wish Sally or Anne had taught her how to do it without bouncing heavily on my neck at every step.

Ten minutes later I am back to a walking pace, and the rider on my shoulders is Jenny. She is significantly lighter and more petite than Alyssa – whose weight is clearly testing the strength of the black girl next to us – but I soon realize that Jenny is by far the most sadistic rider I have ever served. Even as we go at a leisurely pace and she chats away with Alyssa, she enjoys hitting me every few seconds with the sharpest spurs I have ever felt, while yanking the reins at the same time. The result is that I don’t actually increase my speed, but I obey her orders by taking a single big step as if I wanted to start galloping, immediately followed by landing on the other foot and slowing down. It’s almost like a jump. Jenny is clearly enjoying rubbing off her crotch against my bent neck through her thin bikini, and that little trick seems to be enhancing her pleasure. It also gives me a lot of pain and it unnecessarily consumes plenty of my energies, but I am captivated by her selfish and demanding attitude, as well as by her very sexual approach to riding me.

As she keeps chatting with Alyssa, I learn that my new rider is the 19 year old daughter of a rich farmer in West Virginia. They are aware that slavery was abolished a long time ago, but she met Coleen – the black girl – on a S/M website and had her move in with her as a 24/7 slave shortly thereafter. She doesn’t really believe in white supremacy, but she likes playing with that concept since her slave happens to be black. And she’s been actively looking for a male white slave to own. Jenny clearly likes me, and I seriously wish I could be hers. At the same time I find her a little scary: she is the most sadistic rider I have ever served, at only 19 years old. How long until she literally rides me to death?

“You are so young. How come you are already such an expert rider?” Alyssa asks, while whipping poor Coleen to keep up with us.

“My sister is 8 years older than me, and she has always been into S/M. She is incredibly dominant. Seriously, I am compassionate compared to her!” Jenny laughs. “When our parents passed away in a car accident, she inherited the farm and acted as a total bitch with our employees. When they involved the unions, she fired all of them. Then she invested in advanced machinery to limit the number of workers necessary to run the farm, and she started turning some of the slaves from her S/M hobby into 24/7 free labor. They work incredibly hard, in exchange for basic food and shelter and the pleasure to serve her.”

“Wow, that must be a great life for you two!”

“The transition was hard, and we had a couple of rough years. But things are great now. We have more slaves than we need. And my sister and I use some of them as human horses to ride for miles every day in the fields and monitor the work. She also taught me so many different uses for our slaves! They can improve every single aspect of your life, if you are creative and merciless enough. Coleen is my only female slave, and the first that I acquired for myself, after borrowing from my sister a lot through the years. I like her because I can feel her struggle as my human horse. It’s so rewarding to push her to complete exhaustion, and then beyond her limits…”

“That sounds amazing. I would love to learn some of your tricks! I mostly use Steven as my pony, chair and foot cleaner. I know some of the ladies here demand intimate services, but on this trip I am fully realizing that I only want that from other women.”

“Well, I’m afraid I can’t help you with that myself, Alyssa. I’m straight. But you are welcome to take advantage of Coleen. Why don’t you keep her for a few days, while I make full use of your Steven?”

“We have a deal!” Alyssa replies with a high-pitched voice. I slightly turn to my side for a second, and I see a bright smile on her face. She looks ecstatic, and I am very happy for her. Apparently there are things I can’t do for her, irrespective of how hard I’ve been trying to be a perfect servant. I also get to see Coleen’s face between her thighs. She looks scared, and I wonder if she’s going to make it as Alyssa’s rider for a full day: she looks strong, but Alyssa is probably taller than her and just slightly lighter. I can see lots of spur marks in two areas of her abdomen – where Jenny must have hit her – and more fresh marks below them, where Alyssa’s longer legs must be reaching when she jabs her.

“All right, I’ll see you later! Taking a little deviation with my new stud…” Jenny tells Alyssa, interrupting my thoughts with a sharp yank of the reins that makes me turn 90 degrees, followed by one, two, three vicious jabs of the spurs. I start galloping into the woods without even thinking, immediately losing sight of all the other riders and carriers on the beaten track. But Jenny doesn’t have enough. As we reach an open field, she spurs me one more time and then starts whipping me continuously with her riding crop while yelling “Yah, yah!!”

I am literally flying now. I have never run so fast with a rider on my shoulders. My muscles ache, but it’s nothing compared to the pain Jenny is inflicting on me, so I keep running all out. This girl is starting to terrify me, but at the same time this is the most amazing time of my life! She is an extremely competent rider and she doesn’t bounce on my neck at all, but she squeezes it hard to stick to me as one body. The feeling of her soft inner thighs pressing against my face is absolutely amazing. I have never felt so abused in my life, and I absolutely love it. Jenny is just unreal!

After a couple of minutes at this unsustainable pace, Jenny suddenly pulls the reins and I feel the bit dig cruelly into my mouth. I slow down as quickly as I can – hoping she won’t fall off – but she points her feet forward and I feel her weight press hard into my neck through her crotch. She definitely knows what she is doing.

As soon as I come to a complete stop, she orders: “Down!” It’s the first time she talks to me, and I feel lucky to be addressed by such an amazing Riding Goddess. This teenager could be my daughter. Yet I am already completely under her spell.

I kneel down – breathing heavily – and I lower my head even further to let her slide down on the back of my head, just as I’ve been taught. She jumps down so quickly and with such agility that I don’t have time to remove my hands from under her boots, so she steps on them. I am hurting everywhere at this point, but I can’t wait to find out what she has in mind for me. I could really use some sexual relief as well…

Jenny looks at me, grabs my hair and walks with her bikini bottom into my face. “Smell your new owner, slave!” she says while rubbing her crotch against my nose, and I immediately get turned on, despite my exhaustion. “Starting today, your only purpose in life is to please me” she adds, with a matter-of-fact tone of voice.

“Now, you are going to stay on your knees and bend your head back, looking at the sky.” As she says that, she pulls my hair to force me into the position she just described. This actually feels good for my neck, after I kept it bent forward for hours today under the weight of my riders.

Jenny shows me how to cross my arms behind my back the way she wants, grabbing the left forearm with my right hand and viceversa. Then she painfully steps on my forearms with one boot, swings the other leg and lands with her crotch on my face, facing my back. I immediately realize with immense pleasure that she took her bikini off. Several times she pushes into her feet to lift herself, then she lands heavily onto my face. I lick her as much as I can, but her full weight and sudden landings don’t help.  Then she starts riding me back and forth, rubbing her wet pussy all the way between my chin and my forehead. I can hear her moan with pleasure, but she is probably getting tired of moving so much because she kicks my back with her spurs, which I interpret as a signal to rock back and forth to help her movement. That really gets her going, and I can soon feel the sweet taste of her orgasm in my mouth.

Jenny stops moving, and remains sat with her full weight on my face for a minute or two. She even lets her feet dangle freely. The bottom of her thighs are covering my eyes, so I can’t see anything. My mouth is in heaven, but my neck and shins hurt like hell at this point.

Then she opens her thighs and she looks into my eyes. “Open wide!” Before I have enough time to understand her intentions, I feel her warm pee flowing into my mouth. Fortunately a dominant ex-girlfriend taught me what to do a few years ago: I press my lips against Jenny to seal them, and when my mouth is almost full I close it enough to be able to swallow, but not completely so that her nectar keeps flowing though my lips. She has a lot, and I keep swallowing while we look into each other’s eyes. It’s absolutely magical to see her expression of complete satisfaction, as she uses me in such a humiliating way. At one point she farts while peeing, and immediately giggles about it while still maintaining eye contact with me, her human toilet. Once I have swallowed every last drop, I start licking and cleaning her. She enjoys my tongue as her toilet paper for a few seconds, then she places her boots back on my forearms and lifts herself up from my face. “Wow, you didn’t miss a single drop! I am completely clean. You are fucking perfect, slave! I am so going to own you!” Then she lowers herself again, but this time she is sitting closer to my forehead. “Now lick my ass. I feel like it needs some cleaning after that fart you heard…”

A few minutes later, I still have the taste of Jenny’s pee and asshole in my mouth as she rides me like the wind. It takes me at least 15 minutes at full gallop to carry my newly found Goddess along the trail until we catch up with the group. For the entire time she sits comfortably on my neck and shoulders in her confederate flag bikini, squeezing my face between her soft white thighs, while constantly spurring and whipping me to maintain speed even as I get more and more tired. I have never been ridden so hard for so long, yet I absolutely worship her and by no means I resent her selfish and cruel treatment. The more she hurts me, the happier I feel because that allows me to serve better. And the idea that she is fully relaxed, pleasured and clean – thanks to her use of my mouth – makes me feel so compelled to be the most comfortable and reliable beast of burden in the world. I think I might be falling in love…

Of course I am completely exhausted, once she slows me down by the tail of the group. It’s literally hard to breathe, but her spurs keep me in check and I maintain a walking pace. Unsurprisingly, the last rider of the group is Anne, astride her girlfriend Laura.

“Hi there. My name is Jenny. How are you?”

“Hey, nice to meet you. I’m Anne. And this is my girlfriend Laura, who’s starting to get seriously tired but she’s been doing an amazing job!”

“Yes, she is. You two are the same size! It’s impressive. And I love how she rubs your bare feet while using her hands as stirrups for you. I should try that with my Steven here, though I would miss the spurs so much…”

“Oh, that’s ok. They have stirrups with spurs, in case you want to ride barefoot while still using them. I don’t like them though. Laura is motivated by her love and adoration to me, with no need for unnecessary pain. Anyway, did you say he’s your Steven? I thought he was Alyssa’s…”

“Yes, we just swapped rides. But I am enjoying this stud so much that I am planning to do everything in my power to keep him!” My heart is leaping with joy.

“Do you know Alyssa well?” Anne inquires. Then she gently kicks her mount with her heels and says: “Come on, babe. You can do it. Keep carrying your Princess, and go a little faster now. You don’t want my beautiful feet to walk, do you? Show me what you’ve got!”

Jenny replies with a giggle: “Oh my God, you two are so cute! I just met Alyssa this morning. She really liked my black female slave, and I was immediately attracted to this handsome man, so the swap was definitely a win-win. How about you?”

“We met last week. She must have realized that she really prefers female mounts, because she insisted in swapping rides with me. She promised to be gentle, so I eventually gave in. But as soon as I lost sight of her, she was much more dominant with Laura and made her cry. I galloped on Steven all the way to the head of the group to make them slow down and wait for us, yet she had already managed to force Laura to reach the group by the time we got back to them. I was so mad…”

“What did you do about it?”

“Nothing right away. But that night she showed up with Steven, thinking that I would share Laura with her and we would use her together. I think she is very attracted to me. But instead I forced her to be the soft human mattress on which Laura and I loved each other for hours. It was the sweetest revenge. We even rode her face, both of us. And we did all of that on top of Steven, who was blindfolded and wearing earplugs. So the poor bastard was sustaining the weight of three of us, without even knowing what was going on!” Anne concludes with an evil laugh. Why does everyone keep talking about me as if I wasn’t there? They must be really getting used to considering us nothing more than beasts of burden. While I feel bad for Alyssa, the scene that Anne described will be stuck in my mind for a long time. I just love sensual domination between women…

That night is the first I spend with Jenny. By the time we reach her bedroom, I am experiencing a new all-time peak of exhaustion. Nobody has ever abused me so thoroughly, while making me literally fall in love in the process.

Jenny looks at me, kneeling on the floor beside the bed after carrying her all the way there. “You are a mess: sweat and dirt and blood everywhere. But before I go for a shower and send you to the stables to get cleaned up, I have some more use for you. Put this towel on that chair, and then your head on it, looking at the ceiling.” I know what’s about to happen, and seconds later I am swallowing Jenny’s piss for the fourth time today. She has never done it in a toilet since she saw me for the first time, and I hope she won’t anymore.

I obediently lick her clean, then I do the same with her ass as she moves a little forward and offers it to me. After a while she stands up, sits on the edge of the bed and orders: “Take my boots off.” As I do that, she immediately pushes her feet into my mouth, one at a time while the other rests on my chest or shoulders. I bathe her feet and toes for at least 10 minutes, until she dismisses me with a playful but harsh kick.

“Go get cleaned up, slave. You might get lucky and sleep in my bed tonight…”

I am over the moon. Never in my dreams I thought I would get this lucky. “Oh, wait!” she adds, as I am about to leave her room.

“Come here, and look at me in the eyes,” she orders while pushing me back on my knees and placing a foot on my crotch. “You will be mine, forever.”

And that’s the beginning of the next chapter of my life.

The Retreat – Part 2

“Good morning, Ladies. And welcome to your first day at Windham Stables! You have signed up for a one-of-a-kind experience, together with the partners at your service. Rest assured: we will take your interest in lift / carrying – whatever your current level of experience – and transform you into nothing less than Riding Goddesses.”

Sally looks absolutely gorgeous as she walks in the middle of our small circle, making eye contact with the girls as she speaks. I find myself craving her attention, but it’s clear that in her eyes I am nothing more than a human chair. At least I can face her though, because Alyssa figured out a new way to use me on all-fours: my right hand is lifted from the ground and holds the elbow of my straight left arm, so that my right forearm is parallel to the ground and serves as a convenient footstool for her bare feet. Of course it doesn’t bother her that most of her weight is sustained by my left hand: she is becoming more selfish and demanding by the minute, which makes me very excited and – in all honesty – a little bit concerned.

“As new arrivals” Sally continues “you received a booklet with plenty of information, as well a map of the property with description of every riding trail. But let me mention a few key rules, before we join the larger circle with every other guest. First, men are expected to always obey women. It’s that simple, and it admits no exceptions. It even applies to the occasional ponygirl, whose status is superior to that of ponyboys, who must obey her. In case you are wondering, no male riders are accepted here. Second, each man belongs to a main owner for the duration of the retreat. Her orders will always come first for him, and they will prevail on anybody else’s with only one exception, which I will mention in the next point. Third, the schedule allows for about 50% of time you will spend riding your primary carrier, and 50% in which you have the option to swap rides with other women. We strongly encourage swapping, but it’s not mandatory, so please be respectful of everybody’s choices. And here’s the exception to the second rule: if you do accept to lend your carrier to another woman, she becomes his primary owner for the duration of that session, and her orders will prevail on yours for that time. Any questions?”

“Sally, what type of orders does that include?” asks Melissa, a pretty brunette perched on the back of a tall guy who looks like a basketball player. “I am interested in riding different men, but I want to make sure that whoever uses my boyfriend doesn’t break him!”

“We respect all riding styles, so you can’t ask a typically aggressive rider to go easy on your man. But don’t worry, we constantly monitor everyone’s behavior to make sure the whole experience is always safe and consensual.”

“What about orders that go… ehm… beyond riding?” asks Tiffany, a black cheerleader sitting on a huge white guy.

“That’s all left to your own initiative. If you wish to swap men outside of our riding sessions, you can do that. But the three rules I mentioned earlier still apply, so you should expect your man to obey any order from the other woman.”

Sally answers a few more questions, then we hear a horn being blown from a large patio. It’s time for the morning circle! I am curious to see how many other couples are here.

Alyssa maintains her position on my upper back, as I take away my footstool arm to start crawling at her order. All the other riders must be sitting right in the middle of their men’s back, leaving less available space, because Sally steps with her leather boots on my back, placing her hands on Alyssa’s shoulders for balance as she stands on me: “I hope you don’t mind if I hitch a quick ride!”

“Of course not!” Alyssa replies with enthusiasm. “It looks like you have a thing for Steven though…”

“Well, I think he’s very attractive. And I prefer a strong lean body, rather than huge bodybuilder types…”

“That’s totally fine with me. We are just friends, and I will have no problem lending him. And a great rider like you will make him so much better for me! So please feel free to use him any time you want… as long as you find someone else to carry me!”

“Sounds like a plan!” I hear Sally say with excitement, as I struggle to carry the two women on my hands and knees. I am still somewhat surprised to be treated like a disposable animal, but it sounds like I will get used to it very soon!

Alyssa keeps sitting on my back for at least one more hour, as we join the morning circle and then go to have breakfast. There are about 20 couples taking part to the ponyplay retreat, plus five resident riders – including Sally and Amber – and a number of resident slaves that seem to take care of everything from the kitchen to the stables.

As we start the morning ride, Alyssa feels heavier than usual on my shoulders. It must be the jet-lag, or perhaps the rich breakfast that she enjoyed earlier this morning. Of course I could only smell it – while serving as her chair – but I was then fed and equipped with riding tack at the stables, while Alyssa went back to her room like the other girls.

As she was preparing me, the resident slave at the stables read a check-list for my first day, based on the preferences Alyssa expressed this morning through a form:

  • Arms tied behind back
  • Chest harness
  • Stirrups with embedded spurs
  • Backpack with drinking water for the rider
  • Bit and bridles, plus riding crop for the rider
  • Assigned to his owner for the morning, then available to share in the afternoon

She treated me harshly, kicking my ankle whenever she needed me on my knees, then riding me all the way to Alyssa’s room and leaving me by the front door, waiting for my owner to make use of me.

Alyssa is barefoot today, but her kicks are more painful than ever: those spurs embedded in the stirrups are very sharp. Part of me starts resenting her for unnecessarily hurting me so much, but then I look at her adorable feet and I think that they can do anything they want to me. I am also uncomfortable with my hands tied behind my back, as if that changed my balance. But I don’t have much time to adapt, as my owner puts me through my paces and chats away with other riders on the way.

Sally is leading the group on a trail in the woods, riding alongside another resident Mistress whose name I could not catch. They are mounted on two slender but strong men, part of the seemingly unlimited supply of available slaves.

As we keep going, I hear Alyssa make conversation with other riders. She literally offers every one of them to make use of me any time they want.

Now she is talking to a voluptuous woman in her 50s, astride a man who must be half her age. She is probably the heaviest rider on the entire retreat, and definitely the most merciless I have seen so far, as her spurs and riding crop seem to constantly torment the poor man even when there is no need to convey any order. The prospect of being ridden by her terrifies me.

“Nice to meet you, Alyssa! My name is Roseanne.”

“Hey Roseanne, nice meeting you too! Isn’t it a perfect day to ride our slaves?” This is the first time Alyssa refers to me as her slave. She is totally getting into this!

“Indeed it is. Junior here is a little out of shape though. We’ve been here for two weeks and he is starting to get worn out. I should probably lend him to lighter riders more often…”

“Yeah, I’d be happy to help with that. And of course you could use Steven here!”

“That would be lovely. My Junior is a little high-maintenance though. You should be prepared. He is my stepson, and he is never been very smart. He used to make my daughter’s life a nightmare, until she took martial arts classes and she started kicking his ass. As long as you hurt him, he transforms from a wild animal into a docile donkey…” she says with an evil smile, following by more spurring of Junior’s already bruised abdomen.

“So you turned your stepson into a slave for yourself and your daughter?”

“Well, not exactly. My daughter gradually turned him into her servant. Then she left for college – shortly after my husband passed away – and we concluded that the best way to handle the son of a bitch was for me to learn how to dominate him. And, well… it’s been a hell of a ride since, if you see my play on words!”

“Well, I am glad it worked out for you. I can’t help but wonder if his submission is truly consensual though…”

“Oh, it’s fine. I may seem harsh with him, but he needs the discipline. He used to be a scumbag and an addict, and now at least he’s doing something useful!”

I look at Junior’s strong body, struggling under his cruel and heavy rider, and I am not sure he feels the same way. But who am I to judge? I can definitely agree with the right of any dominant woman to have a man at her service. And – together with the obvious reactions to his pain and strain – I can also see a sense of accomplishment in Junior’s behavior: his neck is bent forward to make a comfortable saddle for his rider, and his hands are placed underneath the soles of Roseanne’s boots, serving as natural stirrups. I can definitely see that he doesn’t even try to slow down her legs as they kick him with those cruel spurs. Perhaps he has actually found his purpose in life.

The grim prospect of Alyssa and Roseanne swapping carriers is postponed for now, as the bit pulls between my teeth and I obediently slow down. I soon realize that Alyssa wants to wait for the last rider in our group.

“Hey, thanks for waiting! I love chatting while riding, and my girlfriend here is getting too tired to talk back to me. By the way, my name is Anne.”

“Nice to meet you, Anne. I’m Alyssa! Your slave here seems to be doing a great job!”

“Thanks! She is not as strong as most boys, but she compensates with extreme dedication to my comfort and pleasure. She worships me as her girlfriend, and she loves my weight on her. But don’t call her slave, please. That’s not what she is to me. Her name is Laura.”

“Oh, sorry. I just assumed every carrier here was submissive.”

“Well, she definitely submits to my will. But I like leveraging her affection to me to get the best performance out of her, instead of using cruel tools. No judgement, of course…” she says, probably after realizing that Alyssa is using spurs on me.

“Oh, I understand. I was never an aggressive rider either, but I must admit that I am enjoying trying everything out at this place, and my Steven here never complains, no matter how dominant and cruel I get. I am curious to see how far I can go with him, and I have plenty of time to find out!” She talks as if I wasn’t even there!

“Come on, babe. We are about to lose the others. Carry me faster, I know you can do it for me!” Anne orders, gently kicking her carrier’s abdomen with her bare feet for encouragement. As Laura gains speed with a subtle groan, for the first time I get a glimpse at them and I am truly impressed: the two girls are about the same size!

Anne is pretty and feminine, with the typical colors and complexion of a Dutch or Danish girl. She must be 110 lbs or so, and she is riding with no gear or tack, only wearing cotton shorts and a tank top. Her carrier must be struggling under her weight, but she is clearly prioritizing Anne’s comfort over her own: her neck is completely bent forward to create a natural saddle that fully sustains Anne’s butt, and her hands are not only holding the rider’s feet as natural stirrups, but they are also rubbing those pretty feet at the same time. I can’t help but find it highly erotic: every molecule of Laura’s body is lovingly dedicated to providing comfort and pleasure to the woman astride her, no matter how hard it gets.

Alyssa seems just as impressed: “We should be friends. And I would love to swap carriers with you. I promise I will be gentle with her…”

“I appreciate the offer, Alyssa. But I rarely lend her. As I said, she is not a slave, and the rules here demand that any rider be obeyed no matter what. So I mostly keep her for myself.”

“Oh, I understand. But those rules only apply to the afternoon sessions, when the lending is official. Why don’t we just swap rides right now for a while, and we stay together so you can keep an eye on her? I am very curious to feel a female carrier beneath me…”

“Hmm… that’s tempting. And I wouldn’t mind trying your carrier. But you are taller than me, thus probably a little heavier.”

“All right, let’s do this. We try just for a little while – you can get Laura back whenever you want. And tonight I’ll lend you my Steven with nothing in return. Perhaps you could enjoy a ride on his back together with your girlfriend, giving her a break from being at your service…”

“Well, that’s really tempting! Ok, let’s do it. But we are both barefoot, and I don’t want to get my feet dirty.”

“Let’s have our slaves – ops, carriers – kneel down next to each other.”

As we follow their orders, Laura and I start feeling feet stepping on our thighs, hands and arms. I am not exactly sure how they are doing it, but I obediently keep my head down, and soon enough I feel Anne’s weight straddle my shoulders and neck. The girls have swapped rides without touching the ground with their pretty feet.

Laura groans as she lifts Alyssa and starts walking beneath her, and I have a feeling that the small difference in weight is not what’s troubling her. Anne probably has the same thought, because she says: “Laura, honey, I really want you to serve Alyssa with the same dedication you have for me. And I want you to do that because it will make me happy. Understand?”

Laura’s reaction is immediate. She relaxes her bent neck – letting Alyssa sink comfortably in the natural saddle of her shoulders – and she grabs Alyssa’s feet to provide them with the same support that her girlfriend was enjoying a minute ago, while also starting to massage them.

Alyssa reacts with a “Oh, yes… I love this!” and she rewards her new mount with a kick in her abdomen that Anne would probably consider a little too hard. “Go girl! You are at my service now…” I can’t believe how much she is enjoying riding that girl!

My attention soon moves to Anne though, because her gentle approach is clearly reserved to her own girlfriend: first she pushes my head down so much that my chin is almost touching my chest, then she kicks me sharply to start our ride. I wonder if she realized that the stirrups she is using are equipped with razor-sharp spurs.

“I can’t even see the others anymore” she tells Alyssa after a couple of minutes of more riding. “Do you mind if I go ask them to wait for us?”

“Yes, but be careful: Steven can be pretty fast!”

She barely finishes her sentence when I feel the spurs painfully dig one, two, three times into my abs. I break into a trot – leaving Alyssa and Laura behind – but Anne doesn’t seem to have enough. A few more kicks and I am running for my life. It’s my first time galloping! Anne is not only lighter and more petite than Alyssa, but also a surprisingly competent rider! As we reach the end of the group she slows me down a little bit, but we keep passing everyone until we reach Sally in front, then I feel the bit pulling harshly into my mouth.

After talking to Anne, Sally asks Lindsay – the resident Mistress riding next to her – to slow the pace of the group until she’s back. Then she pulls her left bridle so hard that her slave’s teeth become visible, until he has made a 180 turn. “Follow me!”

I don’t have much time to understand, before my mouth is subjected to a similar torture and Anne spurs me on to follow Sally. We are galloping again, this time going in the opposite direction of the riders that we pass along the way.

As we reach the end of the group, I am surprised to already see Alyssa’s smile. Somehow she got Laura to almost catch up! I can imagine how… since I see her kicking the girl beneath her at least twice in just a few seconds. Laura looks exhausted, but Anne doesn’t seem bothered: perhaps she is enjoying the thought that her girlfriend is working hard, only to obey her order to please Alyssa.

“All right, are you two ok now?” Sally asks Anne and Alyssa.

“Yes, we should be good. Thanks for waiting for us!” Alyssa replies first.

“No problem. Next time wait until a break to swap rides though. I’ll see you girls shortly. We are about to stop for lunch!”

About 20 minutes later I am on all fours, serving as a human chair for both Alyssa and Anne. Laura is laying on her back right next to me, as a soft and warm footstool for the girls’ naked feet. One more time, they have managed to move around without touching the ground. I feel lucky to be serving these two natural Goddesses.

Suddenly Anne orders Laura to get up on all fours as well, and both girls move from my back to hers. It’s only a temporary test though, that Anne and Alyssa seem to enjoy with plenty of laughter. Then they are back on me – to my satisfaction – and I hear Anne give an unprecedented order: “Laura, honey. You deserve a break. Come sit next to me.”

It’s hard to think, when the weight of three women is on your back. But based on what I can feel and hear – and judging by the position of the six legs dangling from my body – Anne is in a sandwich between Alyssa and Laura – facing her own girlfriend – while both girls touch, massage and kiss her. They are obviously keeping this a little limited in front of the other riders, which makes me truly look forward to the evening, when I am supposed to be lent to the girls. Something tells me that Alyssa will end up joining us…

The Retreat – Part 1

As the airplane comes out of the clouds – on its descent in the middle of the Pacific Ocean – I look at the islands below us and feel eager with anticipation. In the window seat next to me, Alyssa seems just as excited. She gives me one of those innocent-looking smiles that I love about her.

I take her hand in mine, and I smile back. This girl has completely changed my life in a matter of months. I remember our first meeting – at the swimming pool – as if it was yesterday. We were attracted to each other like a couple of magnets. And the spontaneous, innocent way she dared me to carry her on my shoulders all the way to the train station, at the end of practice… I will never forget that…

Alyssa whispers in my ear: “Are you ready to be at my service for an entire month?”

I gently touch her thigh, while looking at her adorable long toes. “I can’t wait.”

She must have noticed my glimpse, because she turns around and places her feet on my lap. I start rubbing them, gently at first, then with more energy. There is no need for instructions: I know exactly what she likes. Her pleasure and comfort have literally been my highest priority since we first met. And I feel like I have known her forever.

Technically we are just friends though. We swim together, meet for lunch or dinner, watch movies… And we go for rides, all the time. Alyssa is just as addicted to riding on my shoulders as I am to carrying her wherever she wants. It started innocently, but one day she admitted that it gives her intense sexual pleasure. As she said that, she pushed my head further down – to the point where my chin almost touched my chest – and she started rubbing herself off on the back of my neck. To help her movements, I stopped in the middle of the uphill trail I was hiking, and I placed my hands below her feet – turning them into her stirrups. She grabbed a fistful of my hair, and she pulled it hard to move my head up and down at the rhythm of her pleasure ride, until she had what she later described as one of the most intense orgasms of her life. As for me, I had never felt so ‘used’ in my entire life. I absolutely loved it. As her weight relaxed and settled back on my shoulders and neck, I simply lowered my head and resumed my hike as her human horse, without a word. Just a few minutes later, for the first time she gave me an order by kicking me like an animal, instead of talking to me. Of course I obeyed instantly. That was three months ago, and my addiction to her has only been getting worse since…

SallyOnce at the airport, we pick up our luggage – which I carry – and we walk to the arrival hall. An attractive and curvaceous girl with a bright smile and dark red hair is holding a sign that reads ‘Windham Stables’. She introduces herself as Sally, and she asks us to wait nearby until the next flight lands as well. Alyssa and I look at each other, excited: this is going to be an unforgettable experience!

As more guests – all couples – gather around Sally’s sign, I start wondering what I got myself into: all the girls are very petite, and their partners look like huge bodybuilders. How are we going to keep up with them? Alyssa reminds me that it’s not a competition. But I am pretty sure we are going to go on very long rides, and I would hate to look like a slacker.

“You’ll do just fine. I believe in you!” Alyssa whispers in my ear.

As much as I appreciate her trust, I am a little nervous. Alyssa has been shoulder-riding me several times a week for months, and my endurance has been steadily increasing. I can keep going for over an hour non-stop, and maintain a fast walking speed on uphill trails with a steady foot. But Alyssa is about 120 lbs, whereas all these girls seem to hardly reach 100 lbs. And I have an athletic swimmer build – with broad shoulders and a weight of about 190 lbs – but not half the muscles of these huge guys! Will I be able to perform comparably? And will Alyssa understand if I won’t, or will she be frustrated with me? On the other hand, this may force her to become more dominant to push me hard, which would make me very happy. I know I can be mentally tough, with the right motivation. Hopefully that will be enough to compensate for my lower strength. My thoughts are interrupted by Sally, who invites everyone to follow her outside. We walk to an old Volkswagen van, where the driver introduces himself as Cody and helps us store the luggage in the back. He is about my same height and build, which makes me feel better, though I don’t know what role he’s going to have once we reach the camp.

Everybody looks tired and jet-lagged, and not much conversation happens in the van. There are six couples, including Alyssa/myself and Sally/Cody. Soon we leave the highway for a dirty road, and our average speed slows considerably.

“We are not far” says Sally about one hour later, and she starts working on what sounds like something metallic on the floor, right next to her own seat. Curious, I extend my head forward, and I see that she is fastening a pair of sharp-looking rowel spurs to her boots. I immediately feel a wave of excitement mount inside me. Once she is done, she turns around to face all of us in the back seats, and she announces: “We are minutes away from our parking location. Then it’s going to be a 30 minute ride through the woods to reach the cabins. You can leave all of your luggage in the van. I will come back later to pick it up for you.”

The van stops by a rusty metal gate, behind which the trail becomes narrower and its surface more irregular. There is a couple of porta-potties, and Sally invites us to make use of them and to stretch: “We will be moving in five minutes.”

Everybody is outside the van except the driver, Cody. Then he steps out, and everybody’s heart seems to skip a beat or two: this is what we have all come here for! Cody is wearing no clothes, except athletic shorts and trekking shoes. Some sort of padded towel is on the back of his neck, probably to protect riders from his sweat. He is also wearing a tight chest harness made of leather, which includes straps for a pair of stirrups. Last but not least, a thin rubber bit is forcing his lips open, and is fastened around his head with a leather strap and metal rings that include a pair of reins. I am sure we have all seen plenty of drawings and pictures on the Internet of such human horses, but this still looks remarkable.

“All right everybody, listen up and look at what I do!” Sally has our full attention. She’s been treating Cody like a simple driver so far, but now she walks to him and kicks him in the ankle with her boot. The man promptly drops on one of his knees. She steps on his thigh that is parallel to the ground, swings her other leg across, and lands with her butt on his shoulders and neck quite heavily. Then she firmly pulls the bridles, and Cody stands up, only to immediately guide her booted feet into the stirrups.

Sally is a very attractive redhead. But now she looks like the most exciting Goddess in the world, as she treats a strong man like her beast of burden. “We are going to learn all about these commands, starting tomorrow. You can also say ‘Mount’ instead of kicking the ankle, and say ‘Up’ instead of pulling the reins. You will also get all of your tack and gear. Today we are just going to take it easy though, and the only tack you will need are the neck towels you can find in my backpack.” With that she jabs Cody’s abdomen twice with her left spur, and he obediently turns 90 degrees to his right, on the spot. Alyssa and the other women walk to them and take a towel each from the small backpack that is revealed to be part of Cody’s harness.

As all the girls walk back to their partners, I hear them say ‘Mount’ and then place the towels on the shoulders of their kneeling servants. Then I feel sudden pain in my ankle, and I realize that Alyssa has chosen to follow Sally’s example and kick me without compliments. I hesitate for a second, surprised, then I recover and kneel down for her. She has never mounted me like this: usually I just insert my head between her legs and lift her. But she is quite resolute as she steps on my thigh and straddles my shoulders, not as gently as I expected from her.

Moments later we are all hiking in the woods, and I can immediately observe different riding styles. Three of the girls are sitting on their upper thighs, allowing their human horses to keep their head pretty much straight. To maintain their balance in that position, they have locked their feet behind their partners’ ribs. I have a feeling that – starting tomorrow – that’s going to change dramatically. In fact Sally’s butt is fully supported by Cody’s shoulders and neck, as he keeps his head down, looking at his own feet. This greatly encourages me, because that’s how Alyssa has always demanded that I carry her. (It ranged from very uncomfortable to agonizing for my neck at first, but it’s been getting better and better with training.) The difference, right now, is that Sally’s feet are supported by the stirrups whereas Alyssa’s are just dangling in front of me. Also, our guide is wearing spurs and making frequent use of them. I am grateful Alyssa is not wearing any spurs, because she is being harsher and more demanding than ever with me, and I am truly exhausted and jet-lagged right now.

“That’s a pretty good riding style, for a beginner. You are not letting him carry you, you are actually riding him. Nice job! Can you please remind me your name?” Sally asks, riding up right next to us. The other three couples are just ahead of us, proceeding at the same fast-walking speed. The guys seem to have an easy time sustaining their lightweight riders, but their breathing is getting labored. Perhaps my endurance and lean build will be more valuable than all of those heavy muscles, after all…

“I’m Alyssa. And thank you Sally! It was really hard for his neck at first, but I insisted that I wanted to feel safe and comfortable. And the training has paid off! I feel like I have so much to learn though. I have never used any gear at all!”

“No worries, you are here to learn. We will gradually all converge towards the best riding style. And while your partner will always be your primary carrier, we will also swap mounts all the time to improve everybody’s skills and learn from each other. Speaking of which, why don’t you and I swap rides now? It will be your first chance to try stirrups and bridles, and I am curious to feel your stud beneath me. He is very good looking…”

Her question is clearly rhetorical, because she yanks the reins to stop, without waiting for an answer. I feel Alyssa pull my hair to obtain the same effect.

“Now, either you say ‘Down’ or you do this” says Sally, pushing Cody’s head forward and down while pulling her boots off the stirrups. He kneels down and sits on his own feet, while she slides with her butt on the back of his head and gently lands with her feet on the ground. Alyssa follows her example successfully, but I probably need to relax my neck more next time, because that sliding action feels very stressful on my neck.

The two women mount again, and off we go.

“Wow, the stirrups are so comfortable!” Alyssa observes immediately, as she settles herself on Cody. “And it’s so easy to give commands through the reins!”

“You’ll get used to it soon!” Sally replies. “Your man here feels very solid and comfortable. I actually enjoy riding with no tack sometimes. All right, let’s catch up with the others!” That’s when I am reminded that Sally is wearing spurs, as she painfully jabs my abdomen once, twice, three times.

It hurts so much that I am pretty sure I must be bleeding. Blinded by the sudden pain, I break into a trot, which is the fastest pace I have ever held with Alyssa. I have to admit that Sally makes it feel easier. It almost feels like her crotch is glued to the back of my neck, probably because she is squeezing it between her thighs. With the corner of my eye, I can see Alyssa bounce up and down on Cody as they trot next to us.

Less than a minute on a trot is enough to catch up with the others, who have kept going while we swapped rides. As we slow down to a fast walk and the weight of my rider relaxes on my shoulders and neck, I start realizing that Sally is much heavier than Alyssa. She must weigh about 135 lbs, possibly a little more. And her riding style is very aggressive: while Alyssa mostly lets me carry her quietly – as long as I keep a satisfactory steady pace – Sally gives me orders incessantly, either jabbing me with the spurs or pulling my hair.

But the worst part is that she is the leader of this group and she wants to keep it under control, while socializing with all the new arrivals. So she starts riding quickly up to the first rider, then back down to the last one in line, over and over again, with the result that we change speed and direction constantly, and I feel like I am covering double the distance of everyone else.

It’s very hard and painful, but I absolutely love being ridden by Sally. I have never felt so completely controlled and abused by a woman. Her power on me feels unlimited. I think I will jump down a cliff if the orders me to. I also love how she has been using me like an animal, only talking to Alyssa and without even asking her what’s my name. I am just an attractive and strong body, available for her to exploit.

As Sally keeps riding me up and down the trail, I take a glimpse of Alyssa smiling at me, and then looking at my body with concern. When we finally reach our destination and Sally dismounts, I look at the bloody marks on my abdomen and I understand why.

Sally leads the girls towards a group of cabins, where their rooms are. Nobody gives me any order, so I just stay in the dismount position – sitting on my heels with my head down – and I wait while catching my breath. Two of the other guys get up and start following the girls. Big mistake: a petite yet curvy blonde, dressed in attire similar to Sally’s, appears out of nowhere and hits them hard with a long whip, ordering: “Stay down in your dismount position, boys!”

“Now, mount!” she yells a few seconds later. We assume the mount position and look at each other inquisitively: weren’t we supposed to rest now, and start training tomorrow?

It’s just the five of us now: all the male guests from the van. Our girls are gone, and so is Cody. Then Sally walks back to us: “The girls are going to take a shower and relax. Amber, let’s go get their luggage. Pick your ride!” As she says that, she walks to me and resolutely mounts. I can’t help but groan, as she plops down with her butt on the back of my neck, but that doesn’t seem to bother her: “Up!”

Amber – that must be the blonde girl’s name – mounts the largest of the other guys, and orders the remaining three to follow her. She is wearing spurs similar to Sally’s and she must be using them, because I can hear her massive human horse scream in pain.

By the time we reach the van, I feel like I might pass out. Yet I am sure Sally’s imperious riding style could force me to complete the uphill journey again, and I feel terrified but also excited at the thought.

The girls direct us to recover a wooden litter hidden in the woods, and to load all the luggage on top of it, leaving some empty space in the front where Sally takes a seat. Then four of the boys are ordered to lift it, placing a shoulder underneath one of the four poles that protrude from each corner. I am the only one left, and I immediately understand why as I feel a harsh kick on my ankle. I kneel down, and Amber mounts me. She is lighter than Sally – probably about 125 lbs – and slightly more gentle as she straddles my neck, but the way she pulls my hair makes me groan in pain. I get up, with my new rider astride me.

She is the first person to address me verbally in a while: “Slave, I want stirrups. Place your hands under my boots, and be ready to sustain some weight on them. But don’t you dare preventing me from moving my feet back and forth to spur you, or I’ll make you feel sorry.”

And off we go. Amber digs her spurs into my abdomen much harder than Sally ever did, while my hands dutifully keep her feet supported and my bent neck makes a comfortable saddle for her bubbly bottom. She keeps using the spurs on me every few seconds as we lead the way, with Sally following us on the litter with all of our girls’ heavy luggage. “Come on boys!” I hear her yell. “Keep the pace, or I will use the long whip on you when we arrive!”

I have never been so exhausted in my entire life, but Amber’s merciless spurs keep me going at a respectable pace. I can’t feel my neck anymore, as her weight sinks into it at every step, and I am barely aware of her voice as she chats away with Sally.

I keep repeating to myself that this is just the beginning of the experience we signed up for. But I am not sure if that’s an encouraging thought.

Halfway through the trail, Sally calls for a short break to allow the boys to swap places, so they can switch to the shoulder they have not been using so far. As they lower the litter, she jumps down and walks to me, looking up at Amber on my shoulders. “Can I have this pretty boy back?” she asks her, while rubbing my sweaty chest with her hands and then grabbing one of my ass cheeks.

“I don’t know. I’m having a great time up here!” Amber replies with a giggle.

“Down, boy!” Sally orders, grabbing my hair and pulling my head down.

Now I am confused. Should I do as she says, or am I supposed to only follow the orders of whoever is riding me? In a split second, I decide for the latter and hold my position, with Amber still sitting on me.

“He is such a natural” Sally says with a smile. I guess I did the right thing.

Then Amber gives in, and she orders me to get down for her to dismount. A few seconds later, as Sally’s heavier weight lands unceremoniously on my neck and she takes control of me, I am more sure than ever: she is the best rider I have ever had the pleasure to serve, and I hope I will have many other chances in the coming month.

Amanda, the family slave – Part 3

“Hello, anybody home? Daddy is back!”

Josh heard no response. He dropped his keys on the table, his bag on the floor and his jacket on the sofa. Then he took his shoes off and left them right in the middle of the living room. He knew Amanda would tidy up later.

“Megan, honey, are you home? Amanda, babe? Is anybody home?”

Where the hell were his girls? Could have they gone out for a movie or something? It was only about 9 pm, but he felt they would have let him know if they had any such plans. Then he heard a voice, moaning from a distance. He started getting worried. A quick tour of the house revealed light coming into the kitchen, through the cracked door to the basement. Josh opened it, and immediately noticed that someone – most likely Amanda – must have spent hours tidying up the basement: the floor looked clean in front of the stairs, and the old pieces of furniture that belonged to his girlfriend’s grandmother had disappeared. All he could see on the floor – as he proceeded down the staircase – was a line of interlocking foam mats. Were the girls setting up some sort of home gym?

Then he saw them, and he froze in the middle of the narrow staircase. Megan had the biggest smile he had seen on her for months. She was wearing cotton shorts and an old t-shirt, as if she had spent the entire day at home. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, showing her pretty face and neck. His little girl was growing into such a beautiful woman – thought Josh! As she got closer, he noticed that Megan was also wearing a pair of old cowgirl boots on her bare legs, on which she had fastened shiny rowel spurs that looked brand-new. Beneath her, Amanda seemed to be crawling for her life.

This was possibly the most exciting scene he had ever witnessed. He quietly sat down in the middle of the staircase, which offered him a very partial view of the basement, and he managed not to be seen as Megan rode by.

“Faster, pony!” the girl ordered, hitting Amanda’s butt with a long and thin dressage whip that Josh had just noticed. The woman immediately cried in pain, and increased her already respectable pace. She was wearing a sports bra and a thong, leaving the skin of her ass available for her rider to whip. She also wore volleyball kneepads, some sort of chest harness that included stirrups for Megan’s feet, and – most exciting of all – a bit in her mouth, connected to bridles that Megan was firmly holding in one of her hands, and including a blindfold that was closed over her eyes.

Once they passed, Josh leaned forward to look at them from behind. Amanda’s ass was severely marked by the whiplashes, while Megan’s bottom seemed not even entirely visible: Amanda had a natural arch in her back, and she was clearly letting her rider sink into it, making a natural saddle that must have been as comfortable for Megan as it was painful for her human steed. As they reached the corner, Megan pulled the left bridle until Amanda completed a 90-degree rotation, then she let her continue straight, and kicked the woman’s thighs with her spurs to regain speed. “You are learning quickly, my little pony!” the girl said, apparently ignoring the fact that Amanda was clearly exhausted and in a lot of pain.

As they completed another turn, Josh stepped forward and looked at his daughter, while at the same time placing an index finger on his own nose, to suggest that Megan did not to say a word. The girl saw him and immediately understood that he wanted to watch the action while the blindfolded Amanda could not see him. Then Megan pulled the bridles as harshly as she could, forcing Amanda to suddenly stop in the middle of the room with a groan, while bending her back even further beneath the weight of her rider.

Nobody said a word for a few seconds. Josh looked at his daughter, so pretty and innocent-looking, yet so powerful astride his own girlfriend, who obediently kept her position on all fours and sustained the teenager’s full weight in the middle of her bare back. Then he noticed that the basement had been transformed – in record time – into what looked like a martial arts gym, with padded flooring and mirrors. Looking back at his girls in full light, he was astonished by how many red marks Amanda had on her ass and thighs, shaped like Megan’s dressage whip and rowel spurs respectively.

“All right, my slave. You get to rest for a few seconds now” Megan said. But she did not dismount. Instead, she took her boots off the stirrups and placed her thighs on Amanda’s shoulders, letting her legs dangle right next to the woman’s face. From that position, she hit Amanda’s arms with the spurs in a playful way, not so hard as to hurt her, but enough for the blindfolded human horse to feel them. “I want you to kiss the feet that kicked you, and to thank them for pushing you to crawl faster and farther, so you could serve your Princess better!”

“Yes, my Princess.” Amanda lifted one hand at a time, placed it underneath the sole of Megan’s boot, and started kissing it. She was now on three legs – so to speak – and still sustaining the girl’s full weight on her back.

“Once you are done resting” Megan continued, apparently without even realizing how far from a rest this was for her human pony, “We will go one more time through every single trick that you have learned in the last two days. Then we will be done for this evening. It’s a lot of work to train you!”

“Thank you, my Princess” Amanda mumbled through the bit in her mouth, while still kissing her boots.

Megan was clearly planning to show off her slave’s new skills to her Dad, who smiled and quietly took a seat on the floor in the middle of the room.

“First of all, I am going to get some water though. You will get to drink once you are done. Wait here and don’t move!”

“Yes, Princess.”

Megan stood up, stepping with the heels of her boots on Amanda’s hands in the process, then she headed towards the staircase to reach the kitchen. Josh followed her with silent steps. Once they were upstairs, the only words that he could say were: “Wow, that was impressive honey!”

“You haven’t seen anything yet, Dad” she replied, hugging him. “She is the best gift you have ever given me!”

“Well, she is not exactly…” he could not complete his sentence.

“Yes, she is mine. There is no discussion about it” Megan interrupted him. “She will tell you herself… not that her word counts more than mine, of course…”

“All right, whatever. I am not here to argue with you, sweetheart. Now, are you going to show me what she can do as your pony?”

“Yes, in a minute” Megan replied, finishing her glass of water. “She is really tired though. I’ve been riding her for hours. I don’t know where she finds so much endurance, and how she can take so much pain. I keep pushing her – to find her breaking point – but she keeps beating my expectations. These past few days have been so much fun… and I can’t wait to share her with my girlfriends!”

“Well, we are going to need to talk about stuff like that. And please, try not to hurt her too much. Those spurs you are wearing look pretty vicious, not to mention the long dressage whip downstairs! Where did you get all this stuff, by the way?”

“Oh, I simply spent a couple of hours with Amanda on the Internet, looking up all the possible ways to use a slavegirl. Then I made her order spurs, bridles and everything else on a website with overnight shipping. Doesn’t she look great with all that gear on? And she is so comfortable to ride on!”

“Slavegirl? Honey, I was the first to suggest that Amanda spoil the hell out of you. But this is getting a little out of hand, don’t you think?”

“Nonsense. And if you really want to know, she is the one who offered herself to me as a slave. Now follow me downstairs, but don’t reveal yourself yet. I know you totally loved seeing me ride her like an animal, so I will show you what else she can do!”

The sound of Megan’s spurs at every step was more than enough to prevent Amanda from realizing that Josh was following his daughter. Megan found her ponygirl in the same exact spot where she had left her, except she was now lower to the ground, with her butt sitting on her own ankles and her forearms on the floor. It was a clever way to rest her wrists, which must have been very sore at this point. But Megan did not seem to appreciate the initiative.

“Up!” she ordered with a vicious kick in her ribs, immediately clarifying that she had no intention whatsoever to go easier on her slave after the chat with her Dad.

As Amanda got back on all fours with a groan, Megan placed one boot in a stirrup, swung her other leg above Amanda, and landed with her ass on her back as hard as she could, making the woman visibly bend beneath her weight. As Amanda – clearly in deep discomfort – engaged the muscles of her back to push Megan a little higher and relieve her own spine, the girl immediately corrected her: “No, bad pony!” she said, adding a harsh whiplash that made the woman scream out loud in agony. “I want my most comfortable saddle. Now, you know what to do. Yes, that’s right. Even lower. That’s good”

Josh – sitting on the floor in the middle of the room – was speechless. How could his sweet daughter be so incredibly cruel? Amanda’s back was bent enough that Megan’s weight certainly pushed directly into her spine. That must have been very painful, especially now that Megan started her ride by digging her spurs into the woman’s thighs. In fact, at every step Josh could see Amanda’s back flex up and down slightly beneath Megan’s ass. The girl was clearly enjoying the feeling of obtaining maximum comfort at the cost of her slave’s pain.

For the following 30 minutes, Megan put Amanda through her paces. She was a demanding and merciless rider, who clearly enjoyed the strain and suffering of the woman beneath her. Every single order was accompanied by a whiplash, a kick with the spurs, or both. Any turn was guided by sharp and cruel use of the bridles, that made the bit pull deep into Amanda’s mouth. A few times Megan even lifted herself up on the stirrups, only to land back with her butt on Amanda as hard as she could. They went through an obstacle course with cones that reminded Josh of a rodeo, although on a smaller scale.

When Megan finally stopped Amanda and dismounted, the wounds on the woman’s thighs had gone from red to blue. However there she was, waiting obediently for orders on her hands and knees. Josh was very aroused, but also feeling somewhat uncomfortable with the intensity of what he had just witnessed. He felt like going to Amanda and hugging her, giving her an actual break from her tormentor. But Megan had a different idea: “Why don’t you try to mount her? I bet she could hold your weight for a little while” she whispered in her Dad’s ear.

Josh’s arousal won over his concerns. He walked quietly towards his girlfriend, opened his legs to walk his feet by her sides, then he slowly lowered himself on her. Amanda received his weight and instinctively bent her back to provide him with a comfortable saddle, a split second before realizing that it was clearly not Megan’s. Josh immediately got a hard-on, and completely understood why Megan loved sinking into Amanda’s archy back so much.

“Hi babe. Do you want to welcome me home with a little ride?” he asked, while grabbing a fistful of Amanda’s hair and pulling her head back to kiss her forehead. Then he lifted his bare feet and firmly kicked Amanda’s thighs. Incredibly, the exhausted 115 lbs woman started a slow crawl with her 180 lbs boyfriend on her back. Josh directed her with the bridles and kept her going for a few minutes. Then he stopped her, pulled her hair again and enjoyed how this made her back bend a little further underneath him, stimulating his erection.

“Megan, honey… why don’t you go get ready for bed? Daddy and Amanda need to say hi to each other.”

“Yeah, sure…” the girl replied, rolling her eyes. But she complied. “Just send her back to me for a goodnight kiss though!”

“You got it!”

Josh knew that Amanda’s back must have been in terrible pain for the past few hours. He was sure his higher weight was now putting it through real agony. But once Megan was gone, his lust prevailed, and he started rhythmically rubbing himself off on the woman’s back, while pulling her hair to make her back bend as much as possible. It was brutal, yet so exciting. Close to a devastating orgasm, he stood up and pulled bridles, bit and blindfold off the woman’s head, without even trying to properly unfasten the whole head harness. Amanda didn’t even had the time to regain her sight – after being blindfolded for God knows how long – as Josh started fucking her mouth and throat in the wildest way ever. She thought she would certainly gag, but a few seconds were enough for the man to come in her mouth. Without even thinking, she started swallowing and stayed there on her knees until he was done.

Josh looked down at his girlfriend, and felt a twinge of remorse. Her entire body looked devastated. He seriously considered taking her to a hospital. Then he took all the riding gear off her, lifted her in his arms and took her to the bathroom for a long shower. Amanda did not say a word for the entire time.

As he was drying her up with a towel, she finally spoke: “I hope you enjoyed it, because this was the last time you and I will ever have sex. I am sleeping in Megan’s room tonight.”

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Josh asked, with fear in his voice.

“Don’t try to stop me. We will talk tomorrow.”

Amanda wore a nightgown, walked out of their bedroom and knocked on Megan’s door. As the girl let her in, she knelt by the side of the bed and gently kissed her feet.

“You did great today, my slave.”

“Thank you, Princess.”

“I am ready to sleep, and I bet so are you. But first, I saved something for you! I wanted to make sure we did this together every time today…”

Amanda immediately understood, and lay on her back next to the bed, on the wooden floor. Megan carefully placed her own feet on the woman’s breasts, then she stood up facing Amanda’s legs, using a hand on the wall by her side to maintain her balance. A few seconds later she squatted, resting her back against the side of the bed, while keeping her full weight painfully on the woman’s breasts.

Amanda looked up at her adored owner, opened her mouth, and got ready to drink. As the teenager used her mouth in that humiliating way, she felt lucky to belong to her. Amanda’s life would never be the same. She was owned, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Amanda, the family slave – Part 2

On the following morning, Megan woke up to the smell of pancakes. How did Amanda know they were her favorite?

Her stepmother had had to wake up early, because not only she had prepared breakfast for Josh and Megan, but she was also already dressed. This gave her all the time to take care of Megan on that morning, in the same way a servant would pamper a Princess: she combed the girl’s hair, helped her get dressed, kneeled down to put shoes on her feet… And when she saw Megan slightly bent forward in front of a full-sized mirror to apply make up, she didn’t miss her chance: “This may be more comfortable, sweetheart!” she said, dropping down on her hands and knees to be the teenager’s chair, right next to the mirror.

Megan sat in the middle of Amanda’s back for just a few seconds, then she stood back up. “No, this doesn’t work: I am not close enough to the mirror. Let’s try something else.” She grabbed Amanda’s hair, and pulled it harshly to make the woman crawl with her head closer to the mirror, facing it. Then she sat right on Amanda’s shoulders, with her thighs on either side of her neck. This was really hard for the woman, as Megan’s weight was now pretty much entirely on her arms. But she was determined to resist, while the girl seemed to do anything she could to give her a hard time: first, she gradually slid forward until she was literally sitting on Amanda’s neck. Then she pulled her own feet back – crossing her legs underneath her stepmother’s chest – to make sure she had her full weight on her neck. And when she finally stood up from her exhausted human chair, she did so by painfully stepping on Amanda’s hands with her sneakers. Then she left the room without a word.

As she got up on her knees, massaging her sore neck, Amanda noticed that Josh had been witnessing the entire scene. His evil smile revealed deep arousal. He helped her up, and whispered in her ear: “Good start of the day, my little slave. Now I want you to drive Megan to school. She will be with her mother tonight… which means you will be all mine! I want to find you naked, on your knees and blindfolded when I get home from work…”

On that evening, Josh enjoyed the hell out of his girlfriend’s body. They had plenty of oral and foreplay, they had savage sex, they both orgasmed several times… and while he was mostly dominant, he also praised Amanda and made sure to give her pleasure: “Oh babe, it’s so hot to see you be Megan’s servant!” he said during sex. “You have no idea how it turns me on! You are my woman, and you make yourself a humble slave for a teenager just to make me happy… oh yeah… you are our servant, Megan’s and mine… our property, our family slave… and you will spend the rest of your life serving us, adoring us, making our life better… no matter how painful and humiliating it gets for you… oh God, I love it!”

Two days later, Megan was scheduled to spend 48 hours with her Dad, who was however asked to take care of a job 300 hundred miles away. That meant that he had to spend two nights away, which was not uncommon for an IT technician employed by a national firm. He would have normally called his ex-wife to rearrange things, but this time he decided otherwise: that was a perfect opportunity for Amanda and Megan to bond!

Josh had just enough time to pick up Megan from her gymnastic practice, and to drop her off at Amanda’s before heading to the airport. But his daughter was upset: “Dad, I sprained an ankle! It’s a minor injury, but my coach said I should not put any weight on it for a couple of days, if I want to heal quickly and compete at the upcoming meeting in two weeks. Can I stay home from school?”

That was bad timing. Josh felt guilty, having to leave his daughter alone for two days with an injury. But he was sure Amanda would step up to the challenge, and the woman did not disappoint when she heard the news. “No worries, I will find a way to carry her around the house. I’ll take good care of you, Megan. Now I am going to make dinner. Feel free to stay comfortable here on the sofa, sweetheart, and let me know if I can do anything for you. I am at your complete service…” she said when the two got home.

“That’s right, you are at her service” Josh whispered in his girlfriend’s ear, as he said goodbye to her in the kitchen a few minutes later. “I expect Megan to be the happiest girl in the world by the time I am back, no matter what it takes…” Then he kissed Amanda passionately, while grabbing her hair with a clear sense of ownership, and he left for his business trip.

petite-redheadWhile cooking dinner, Amanda looked at a photograph of Megan – pinned on the refrigerator – in which the girl was wearing snow boots. And she found herself thinking of how she would gently take those boots off and bathe those adorable feet… using nothing but her mouth and tongue! What was wrong with her? She was aroused beyond belief by her role as Megan’s servant, and she couldn’t wait to see what the following 48 hours had in store. This was crazy… yet intoxicating… so ridiculously arousing!

When dinner was ready, she walked to the living room to pick Megan up. The girl was asleep on the sofa. Amanda stood there for a few seconds to study her adorable stepdaughter: a petite redhead, she looked even younger than her 19 years of age. And the view of her small feet, perfectly shaped and with a soft pale skin, was always the ultimate motivator for the woman to endure any pain and discomfort. Amanda knew she would need all the motivation in the world to physically serve her in the coming couple of days: Megan must have weighed barely a hundred pounds, but Amanda was not much bigger at 115 lbs and 5’2″.

She woke Megan up by gently caressing one of her naked feet. “Dinner is ready” she said, when the girl slowly opened her eyes.

“Ok. But you know I can’t walk on my left foot, right?”

“Yes, of course” Amanda replied, almost feeling stupid for not being as prompt as the girl probably expected. She kneeled next to the sofa, then immediately got down on all fours. Megan stood up on her good foot, then she let herself literally plop down with her butt on Amanda’s back. The woman couldn’t help but groan, as her back bent to absorb the sudden weight, but she didn’t dare protesting. Megan seemed indifferent to her reaction, as she placed her legs on the woman’s shoulders and grabbed a fistful of her hair to ensure her own stability. “Ok, let’s go!”

Being ridden like a human horse was more demanding than Amanda had imagined, especially because Megan’s weight was mostly on her arms in that position. On the other hand, that gave her a delightful view of the girl’s pretty feet, dangling just in front of her face as she obediently crawled like a trained animal, looking towards the floor. Amanda was strong enough to endure the distance to the kitchen table, but as they entered the room and left the carpet for tiles, her knees started hurting.

Megan directed her towards the table, using her hair like makeshift reins. When they finally reached it, she used her good foot to push a chair to the side. Then she pulled Amanda’s hair to make her stop. The woman expected her young rider to stand up and sit on that chair, but she realized that the girl was close enough to the table and was just starting to eat! She also turned on the TV, while completely ignoring the servant beneath her. Oh my God, how could she resist in that position for so long? And had Megan not noticed that dinner was prepared for two on the table?

Soon enough Amanda was in a lot of pain: her arms were getting tired, and her hands and wrists were pretty sore, but what hurt the most was her knees. She resolved to find her old volleyball kneepads as soon as possible: they must have been somewhere in the basement.

Megan enjoyed her meal and watched TV on her comfortable human seat. For the entire time, Amanda looked at her stepdaughter’s pretty feet and focused on her own deep desire to serve her, to make her happy, to belong to her. That’s the only way she could be motivated enough to endure the pain. When Megan seemed to have finished eating and turned off the TV, the woman started hoping for an order to crawl back to the sofa. But the girl started playing with her smartphone, and then she called one of her girlfriends and started chatting with her. Amanda heard her say “I really hope I’ll be ready for the meeting. My left foot is still sore… No, it’s not swollen. It’s just painful to put weight on it. I wish I could just get a nice massage.” As she pronounced those last words, she swayed her left foot in a way that Amanda interpreted as a signal. So she lifted her right hand from the floor – sustaining most of the girl’s weight with the other arm – and used it to gently caress and massage Megan’s left foot. “Actually, perhaps I have found someone who could do that: my stepmom!” Megan continued on the phone. “She seems very motivated to make me love her, clearly just to conquer my Dad’s heart. And I have every intention to take advantage of it!” she added with a giggle.

The phone call seemed to last for an eternity, but Amanda could not let herself interrupt the foot massage until she heard: “Ok, let’s go back to the sofa” with a harsh pull of her hair at the same time. She started crawling, but her knees were so sore that she nearly collapsed. “Come on, you are so slow. I want to get to the sofa. I am not comfortable anymore on your back, and you are getting sweaty under me…” she heard her rider say.

A few minutes later, Megan was watching TV on the sofa. Her stepmother was sitting on her knees in front of her, holding one of the girl’s feet in her hand to massage it, while the other foot was pressed on her breasts like on a soft pillow. The two had not yet really exchanged a word, since Amanda had woken Megan up from her nap before dinner.

“So, what is this?” Megan broke the silence. “Let’s be honest. It’s clear that you want to make me happy just to please my Dad. But I’ve been really pushing the limits, yet you keep accepting everything. Are you really that desperate?”

“I love your Dad. But this is not just about him. I think that you are a beautiful, innocent, adorable young woman. And it feels good for me to take care of you, to make your life better. I think of you as a Princess, and of myself as a mentor and a servant at the same time…”

“Princess? I like that. From now on, that’s how you should address me.”

“Yes, Princess.”

“Very well. Now, seriously, are you a masochist? A lesbian? Are you in love with me? I mean… I have been playing along with this, and really enjoying it, but it’s weird!”

“My Princess, I have always had a submissive personality. I am a people pleaser. But no, I am not a masochist or a lesbian. I love your Dad. And I adore you!”

“Hmm… What would you do for me?”

“Anything.”

“Come on, there must be something you would not do.”

“I would not seriously hurt anyone, or put myself in serious danger. But I really feel like doing anything that makes you happy. I wish to spoil, serve and adore you in every way you choose.”

“Don’t you mind when I am bitchy, when I give you orders like you are some sort of slave?”

“No, Megan. I don’t mind. It makes me feel that I belong to you, and to your Dad. If you wish to own a slave, I would be honored to be yours.”

“Hmm… ok. I am not entirely convinced, but I will give you a chance. How would you like to show me that you are my slave?”

Amanda now felt scared. What was she getting herself into? She had not planned to come out so much. She wanted to make everything seem normal, like a perfect family with a very caring stepmother. A slave? Why had she said that? Yet she was so wet, so overwhelmed. On her knees in her own house, alone for the next 48 hours with a teenager, she was offering herself to Megan with no limitations.

She found herself lying down on the floor, placing her stepdaughter’s feet on her own face, and starting to kiss and lick them with abandon. Megan seemed surprised for a few seconds, then she started enjoying this new game. She sat on the woman’s belly, using her thighs as a backrest while placing her own feet on her neck, on her face, pushing them into her mouth. Amanda kissed, licked and sucked. Soon the girl pulled her feet away, placing them on the woman’s breasts. “Do you want them back?” she asked.

“Yes please, my Princess. I would love to keep adoring your feet.”

“Ok, here you go!” Megan replied, slapping Amanda’s face with the bottom of her foot. The woman was surprised by the hit, but she immediately reacted by kissing Megan’s foot. The girl kicked her, slapped her, stood up and started trampling her all over her belly, stomach, breasts, face and even throat. Amanda moaned and suffered, but she always kissed her tormentor’s feet whenever they came close enough.

“You are crazy” Megan said, while standing with a foot on each of Amanda’s breasts. “And this is going to be so much fun!”

“May I ask you something, Princess?” Amanda said, as soon as Megan sat back on her stomach.

“Sure. But keep caressing my feet while you talk. It feels so good…”

“Of course, Princess. I am glad you are enjoying it. So, here’s my question: how come you are such a natural at being dominant, at using someone as your servant? It feels like you have done this before…”

“Well… yes, I guess I have been doing it for a while… in a way. It’s about my cheerleading team. I am a flyer, so my job is to hold my position in the sky and look pretty. Flyers get all of the spotlight. On the other hand, our bases do all of the work and get much less recognition. They hold our weight, they lift us, they place their hands and shoulders beneath our shoes as we step on them. It’s like they are at my service…”

“Ok, but that’s just for the performance… right?”

“Yes, originally. Then, little by little, me and the other flyers started assuming that the bases are at our service. We asked them to kneel down and tie our shoelaces, or to go fetch our water bottles. Small things. But we became the spoiled brats of the team.”

“Did all of them comply right away?” Amanda was starting to get turned on.

“Most of them did, and the others ended up following the example. It helps that we have plenty of bases and a shortage of flyers, so they need to make us happy if they want to keep their place in the team. And it’s a great team to be part of! Did you know that we won the regional championship last year?”

“Oh, that’s great! Congratulations!”

“That was actually a turning point. We had a parade to celebrate our victory, and the bases took turns carrying us flyers on their shoulders around the campus. We were transferred directly from one’s to another’s shoulders, so I literally never touched the ground for over an hour. I loved it!”

“Sounds great! But how was it a turning point?”

“At the end of the parade, the bases were exhausted. The coach was disappointed and said that – to get even better this year – they needed to work on their strength and endurance. She said they needed to get used to handling our weight all the time, using any opportunity, even outside of practice hours. So now we ride around on their shoulders every day, pushing them to go further and faster every time. We get them to be our chairs on all fours during any breaks we can spend outdoors, to avoid sitting on grass. They even became proactive about it, and they organize their own shifts: I literally find a base waiting for me by the bus stop every morning, kneeling down for me to mount her.”

“That sounds amazing. How do the other students react?”

“They immediately got used to it, and they see it as part of our training. But they also realize who’s in charge: sometimes a friend will talk to me while I’m riding, and I won’t hesitate to pull my carrier’s hair to stop her or to give her directions.”

“Seriously, nobody complains?”

“Absolutely not. And we keep pushing things further. The other day I had to go study at Rachel’s house with Emily, a friend of mine who’s not on the cheerleading team. Rachel lives at walking distance from school, 20 minutes or so, and I really wanted to get a shoulder ride all the way there. So I ordered two of our bases – Erika and Suzanne – to carry myself and Emily respectively, so we could be at the same height and chat along the way. Emily is not as lightweight as myself and the other flyers, so Suzanne was really struggling towards the end, but I told Emily not to worry because she was actually helping her training!”

“Wow, so now they have to serve whoever you decide, even outside of the team! It sounds like you are treated like a Princess at school, just as well as at home…” said Amanda with a smile.

“That’s right. Now get on all fours, slave!” Megan said, while standing up. “I need to pee.”

Amanda received Megan’s weight and crawled all the way to the bathroom, carrying her stepdaughter. As she stood up and sat on the toilet seat, Megan said with a smile: “You may have noticed that my foot has miraculously healed!” She started peeing as she spoke. “I made up my injury, and everybody believed me. Even the coach! I wanted to miss class tomorrow, because I was late with an assignment. And I was also curious to see how it would be to have you all for myself, at my service 24 hours a day in your own house! Now, if you truly are my slave, and you are not just trying to please my Dad, you will protect my secret and not say anything to him.”

“Your secret is safe with me, Princess” Amanda replied, while bending her own arms to kiss Megan’s feet from her position on all fours.

“Oh my God, you really adore me… don’t you?”

“Yes, my Princess!”

“This is so awesome. I am starting to believe you. But I won’t stop pushing you to prove it! This is just the beginning” As she finished her sentence, Megan used a piece of toilet paper to clean herself, then she extended her hand towards Amanda and said: “Ok, now eat this!”

In her position on all fours, Amanda felt her own elbows buckle with arousal. This was going way too far, way too soon! But she was ready for anything. She had never felt so attracted and so submissive to any person in her entire life. She opened her mouth, received the piece of toilet paper drenched in piss, and obediently swallowed it.

Megan’s pleased expression was the instant reward that she needed. Amanda now belonged to her, body and soul.

Amanda, the family slave – Part 1

Things were finally looking up for Amanda.

After inheriting a small house from her adored grandmother – who passed away at age 87 – she could finally move out of her parents’ place and live by herself: the constant drunkenness of her father and mood swings of her mother were no longer tolerable. And she found an attractive, caring boyfriend. He made her feel special and loved, which was a nice change after a series of failed relationship with neglectful losers.

Josh – her new boyfriend – was separated from his wife and had a teenage daughter, Megan. Just a couple of months into the relationship, Amanda asked Josh to move in with her: she couldn’t bear the thought of her own boyfriend still sharing a house with his ex-wife, although she believed him when he said that it was over between them. Amanda also redecorated her spare bedroom, to be occupied by Megan whenever she was in her father’s custody.

Things worked really well at first. Josh was a sweet partner and a passionate lover. He had a very high sex drive, and he kept becoming more dominant and demanding as he realized how hard it was for Amanda to say no to him. She was a natural submissive in bed – so that was great for her – but he progressively brought the same attitude into their everyday life. One day they were having an argument, and Amanda was left astonished by his reaction…

“Josh, I really need you to stop dropping your dirty underwear all over the house. I am not your maid, for God’s sake!”

“You’re right, honey” he replied, standing up from the couch and walking towards her. “You are not my maid. You are my slave, whenever I say so! Do you remember when I made you repeat that over and over again, last night?”

“Are you serious? That was only a game during sex. You can’t just…”

She could not complete her sentence. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and whispered in her ear: “On your knees now, woman!” Amanda wanted to resist – it was a matter of principle – but she instantly got wet, while feeling so weak in her knees. Her submissive nature prevailed in a matter of seconds. She kneeled down, unzipped his pants and started pleasuring him. It was not enough. Intoxicated by her acceptance of his power, Josh got more aggressive than ever and used her mouth as if she was a cheap prostitute. Amanda felt humiliated, and she nearly choked when he came in her throat, but she could not bring herself to protest. When it was over, she even smiled back at Josh as he left her there, kneeling down on the kitchen floor, wondering if he even noticed the tear running down her face.

That episode was a turning point. Josh was still sweet with her at times, but he considered himself empowered to treat her like a sex slave any time he wished. And when Amanda lost her job as a bank clerk, he also started treating her like a full-time servant in the house. She was so scared of losing him – and she became more insecure once unemployed – that she soon accepted her role without any protest.

Their very last argument went like this…

“Josh, I really love being your little slave… you are my handsome man, and I adore you… but this is going too far. I feel like I am losing myself a little, every single day!”

“Honey, don’t be silly. You are not losing yourself. You are giving yourself to me! And that’s what I want: your unlimited submission. I want you to trust me to be always right, to know what’s best for you… and to let me exploit and abuse you for my comfort and pleasure, any time I wish. I know you love it. You just can’t resist me…”

“I can’t, you are right… but we really need to discuss some limits. I mean…”

“Shut up” he interrupted her. “You are mine. There are no limits. And besides, I am the one providing for this family now. So just go back to the kitchen and make me dinner!”

That night after dinner, Josh ordered Amanda to get on all fours in front of the TV. She thought he wanted to have sex in that position, but he simply sat on the sofa and used her back as a footrest for the duration of an entire movie. He had never made her do anything so humiliating outside of their sex life. She thought of protesting several times, especially when her position became painful and the weight of his legs started really sinking into her back, but she ended up accepting his dominance and being a silent piece of furniture for the entire time. He only gave her a short break halfway through the movie: “Go get me a glass of water!” followed by “Back to your position!” At the end, he kissed her on the lips and said “Good night, sweetie. You did good today.”

She started living for those moments, for his approval. She was intoxicated with submission, and obsessed with making him happy. There was no sex that night, but Amanda secretly masturbated in the bathroom before going to sleep, thinking of how her sore back was the result of the comfort she had provided to the legs of such a handsome man.

She was lucky to be his.

Amanda’s life got pretty hard though. Josh was always demanding and unpredictable, only occasionally thoughtful, and often dominant beyond what she had previously considered her limits. But the amazing sex – and some occasional moments of intimacy and sweetness – kept her going.

The worst thing is that Josh gradually started treating Amanda like the house servant in front of Megan, whenever she stayed with them. And the teenage girl soon started following her Dad’s example: “Amanda, go fetch me that book!… Bring me a glass of orange juice!… Have you washed my cheerleading outfit yet? I need it tomorrow!” And so on…

Then one night, Dad and daughter were watching a movie on the sofa after dinner, while Amanda took care of the dishes. Once done, the woman went to join them in the living room, only to hear Josh immediately say: “Babe, we need to get a coffee table for this living room. I am just not comfortable with my feet on the floor! In the meantime, you know what to do!” Amanda was astonished. Was he really asking her to be his footrest in front of Megan?

Not only he was serious. He also invited his surprised daughter to make herself comfortable as well. So there was Amanda: on her hands and knees, bearing the weight of her boyfriend’s legs in the middle of her back, as well as the weight of his daughter’s legs on her shoulders and neck. The humiliation made Amanda shed some silent tears, but she also got embarrassingly wet between her thighs.

Megan seemed initially shy about it, but she soon started fully enjoying her human footstool. At one point she left one extended leg on Amanda’s shoulders and she bent her other leg, placing the bottom of her foot on the back of Amanda’s neck.

“Why am I tolerating this?” Amanda asked herself silently. But her arousal was breathtaking. There she was, a beautiful 28 year old woman… on her hands and knees to be a comfortable footstool for her much older boyfriend, as well as for his teenage daughter. The most inexplicable thing was how much she enjoyed the humiliation of Megan’s foot sole on her neck, its weight and soft skin, the awareness that a teenager was using her as nothing more than a piece of furniture. When Megan jokingly waved her pretty foot in front of Amanda’s face – teasing her and expecting some sort of funny reaction – the woman found herself lifting a hand from the floor, placing it under the girl’s foot to sustain its weight, and gently kissing it.

Megan giggled, then she stood up with a smile and turned around to face Josh: “Dad, I am going to head to bed. Please let me know how the movie ends. And thanks, this little game was fun!”

“Any time, sweetheart. You know Amanda loves you” he said about the woman who was still serving as his footrest “and how she always wants to spoil you, to serve you, to make you happy. It’s because you are the most adorable girl in the world! Let me ask you something. Have a seat for a minute” Josh continued, lifting his legs and then patting Amanda’s back twice with his hand.

“Do you mean… here?” said the girl, looking at the petite woman on all fours by her feet.

“Yes, of course! She is strong, and you are so light and beautiful, my girl!”

“Ok” the girl replied, gently sitting right in the middle of Amanda’s back, which naturally bent a little under her weight.

“I want to make sure you always feel loved, Megan. How do you feel about me and Mom being separated? And what do you think about me now dating Amanda?”

Josh’s question inevitably led to a longer conversation than he originally intended, with Megan using her stepmother’s back as a human chair for the entire time, without any second thought. Like the typical gymnast and cheerleader, she was very flexible, and accustomed to changing position all the time: one moment she was sitting with her legs dangling on one side, few minutes later she was cross-legged in a yoga pose with her entire weight in the middle of Amanda’s back, then she settled for a while with her knees bent towards her own chest, which meant that her feet rested on Amanda’s shoulders. Finally, she placed her feet on the back of Amanda’s head, just as she started talking about her. Now the woman’s back was the teenager’s chair, while her head and hair worked as a comfortable footrest for the bottom of the girl’s naked feet.

“I don’t mind Amanda” Megan started saying, as if the woman was not right there beneath her, listening to their conversation. “I can see that she makes you happy, and that she is trying her best to make me like her. But I am not ready to start seriously caring about her. And, honestly, sometimes I am a little jealous of how much time she gets to spend with you. Right now I feel grateful for her genuine effort to take care of me, to make me sit comfortably” she continued, while intentionally making her own feet heavier to push Amanda’s head a little further down. “But – I must admit – I am also enjoying her obvious pain and discomfort, and thinking that she is supposed to be at my service. At our service! You and I come first, Dad. Everyone else should be secondary, even if they live with us!”

Josh thanked her daughter for being so honest with him. And he promised to find the best solution to make her happy. “You are the most important person in the world for me, Megan!” he said at one point. Then he also asked her to give Amanda a chance and to be nice to her, although he wondered how effective that invite would be, after he had encouraged Megan to use the woman as a human chair for the past 40 minutes.

Then Megan stood up, kissed her Dad goodnight, and – while walking to her bedroom – she also made the effort to say “Good night Amanda!”, just as the woman was getting up on her knees.

Josh looked at his kneeling girlfriend, visibly exhausted and sore. Amanda had tears all over her face.

“I love you, babe. This was so important to me!” he said to her.

“What was important? Turning me into your daughter’s slave?” she said, with a neutral tone of voice that Josh could not really interpret.

“I am just trying to make you two connect! I won’t lie: it was hugely arousing for me to share my slave with someone else. It made me truly feel that I own you, that I can dispose of you as I please. But there is more. Megan has become more insecure after Tiffany and I separated. At her age, confidence is important! I want her to feel beautiful, special, adored… to the point where even her stepmother is willing to do absolutely anything to make her happy, including being her servant in the most humbling ways!”

Now Josh was seriously concerned that he had pushed things too far. While he was the only person working in the family, he would not have known where to go if Amanda had kicked him out of the house. Was she mad at him? Had she reached a breaking point? But the woman surprised him: “If it’s the last thing I do” she said “And no matter how much hard work and humiliation it’s going to take, I will make that girl feel loved. She will even learn to love me, eventually.”

“You are amazing, my woman!” an open-mouthed Josh said. “I think this is exactly what she needs! Megan has been feeling not worthy of love lately. And this makes her hesitate to express her needs, to fight for what she wants. But did you see how quickly she started relaxing and becoming more demanding, first with her foot on your neck and then using you as her chair? She felt that you gave yourself to her, unconditionally. And she accepted that gift, making use of it. She needs to feel so worthy that you would do absolutely anything for her. So I want you to start encouraging her, with spontaneous acts of submission and servitude. Make her your priority, even above me!”

That night, Josh made love to his girlfriend in the most caring way ever. He went down on her, giving her a first orgasm, and then waited for her to come again during sex before letting himself cum.

When he fell asleep, Amanda stayed awake for a while next to him. Her increasing submission to Josh had been worrying her lately, because she loved being exploited and dominated to a point where she could lose control of her entire life. But Megan was so innocent and pretty, yet so naturally demanding! Amanda had never loved serving anyone as much as that young girl. She felt like giving herself completely to the teenager – with no fear whatsoever – and she could not wait to start grooming the dominant woman that was clearly inside Megan’s personality.

Starting on the following morning, Amanda was going to be on a mission.

 

The last of the human horses

Kingdom of Ashmeera, 330 BC

Princess Marjan loved the feeling of her black hair gently caressed by the wind, especially when generated by the forward motion of a ride in the woods. A firm flick of the riding crop on her mount’s sweating muscles triggered a further increase in speed on the straight path. Comfortable on the small saddle, with her feet safely set in the stirrups, she used the small but nasty whip again and again to ride even faster, while feeling perfectly confident despite her Mom’s frequent remarks that she was a reckless rider.

A fork was approaching, so she expertly pulled the right bridle and slightly shifted her own weight to allow an effective right turn without too much slowdown. It was very subtle, but she could sense the hesitation of her human horse to follow her order. “You bastard!” she thought slightly bothered, and once the curve was finished she repeatedly dug her sharp spurs into his abdomen, both as a punishment and to make him reach the maximum speed. That right turn was not a usual choice – hence the horse’s behavior – and it led the Princess into open grassland out of the woods.

The human horse was now launched at full gallop, his skin hit by the sunshine and by his rider’s relentless spurs. He was almost naked, completely shaved, and he ran with a form and posture that clearly revealed a lifetime of experience in such a role. A leather harness was tightly fastened around his chest and sustained both the stirrups, dangling in front of his abdomen, and the small leather saddle behind his neck where the Princess had been sitting for the past hour. She liked riding her mother’s slave, although she couldn’t wait to receive her own human horse one day, provided that suitable males could be found again. “You should thank me for keeping the old guy in shape for you!” she used to tell her Mom with a teasing smile. About 45 years old, the slave could easily have been her father, but Princess Marjan treated him like a disposable animal and was always his most demanding rider. A flourishing young woman, she looked beautiful in her light dress and ankle boots. The spotless skin of her tanned legs seemed so delicate, compared to the tough and darker one of the human horse she was sitting astride. Her sisters used jodhpurs and long riding boots for protection when going for a ride, but she wanted to be different and special, like in most other things.

At that speed, the fall was as sudden as ruinous. The horse expertly managed to make her land almost entirely on his head and arms, protecting her knees and feet, yet the Princess felt some pain on her left leg and an incredulous disappointment: “You worthless slave!” To her further surprise, the horse pushed her off his back and onto the grass, just to immediately jump back on his feet and run away for a couple of steps. “What the…”

Then she saw their attacker. The struggle between the two men was the nastiest thing she had ever witnessed. She was used to seeing blood on her horse’s abdomen after a ride, due to her generous use of razor-sharp spurs, but this was different. She couldn’t even remember how she got up on her feet, but there she found herself: in the middle of that seemingly infinite grassland, watching with repugnance as her slave eventually managed to suffocate the other man, using the leathers of his own stirrups.

Once sure that the attacker was dead, the human horse struggled to get up on his hands and knees and he looked at the Princess, the bit still tight in his hardly breathing mouth. Furious and scared, she hit his face with her riding crop with all her strength. It was enough to open a cut on the slave’s cheek, and to make him instinctively move back into a sitting position.

“How dare you make me fall off? I’m going to kill you!!”

Then she saw it: a long arrow still jabbed into the slave’s left thigh, with the feathers damaged by the following struggle. He hadn’t fallen by accident!

A million questions started to hit her. Why did that man attack them? She looked around. Nobody else in sight. Then she realized something disturbingly obvious: it must have been her that the attacker wanted! She vaguely remembered her Mom mentioning a group of rebels trying to overthrow their long established matriarchal society, and probably having caused the birth defects that made all new slaves bred by the Kingdom unsuitable for riding and other advanced tasks. But she had never paid too much attention.

“Let’s go… now!!”

She unceremoniously climbed on the saddle and tried to find the bridles. The human horse humbly handed them up to her, only to feel the bit immediately pulled deep into his mouth from both sides.

“Up, slave! Now!!” The Princess kicked and whipped with no regard, almost in panic.

The human horse had to summon all his energies and devotion to the royal family to get up, with a scream of acute pain. The arrow was not letting too much blood out, but the pain was so acute that he could only walk with a very visible limp. No matter how hard the Princess hit him with her crop and spurs, it was nothing compared to the pain in his leg. He couldn’t manage more than a fast walk through his agony.

Princess Marjan was very aware of the gravity of her situation, but the idea of walking didn’t even touch her for a second. She would have ridden her slave to death, if necessary. He was born to serve her family. Although very clever and sensitive, she was spoiled beyond belief and, at just 19, simply too young to accept even the most reasonable and temporary limit to her power.

It took them hours to go back to the castle through the woods. Once they reached the first courtyard inside the walls, two guards finally saw them and rushed to help. The exhausted and bleeding slave fell on his knees and let the guards take the Princess off the saddle, before seemingly passing out on the ground.

“Call the doctor, now!!” one of the guards yelled.

Was the last human horse going to make it?