Blonde Fury II (9 page)

From somewhere her mind dredged up a memory of Martha. It had been a drunken Sunday afternoon and they had both been naked all day. Martha had suggested freezing some fruit juice into cubes – the wine was too good to waste! – then had Sophie push them up her vagina and when they had melted she had licked Sophie dry as the sticky stuff oozed out of her.

Dimly, as she panted and ran
and tossed her head in protest at the pain, she realised they had stuffed something up her that had been released by the melting ice. However, k
nowing what had been done to her didn’t help at all. She just had to get the harness off fast. For once her driver seemed content and she only received light strokes as she ran and the reins stayed loose.
For nearly the whole of the third lap they ran in isolation with only the occasional whimper from behind her bit as the inferno raged inside her. But as they neared the house again they came in sight of two more rigs and Sophie felt her driver pick up the reins again and the whip scythed across her shoulders. She picked up the pace and was nearly alongside one of the rigs as they crossed the car park. But the other driver had seen them coming and Sophie saw the whipcord flick through the air and lash the sweat-gleaming back in repeated figure of eight patterns. Immediately the pony speeded up and before Sophie could react they were into the narrow channel between the spectators. Now all Sophie could see was the back of the rig and the back of its driver’s head.
Then they were out in the open and Sophie was wrenched to the left and whipped hard across her bottom and back just as she was slowing for the terraces. The reins were loose and she looked down at the slopes before her as she drew alongside the other rig. The pony was dripping saliva onto her heaving breasts and squealing around her gag. Sophie just had time to wonder what had been rammed up her backside when she had to decide whether to defy her driver or to attempt the slopes at the speed he wanted. With her guts on fire, walking was not an option and helplessly she plunged downwards, but this time could see where she was going. It was too fast! The level ground was coming up to meet them and the weight behind her was pushing
down
her too hard. Then at
the
last
moment
her head was wrenched back and the driver took control
again. Somehow she managed to dig her heels in to stop the headlong plunge and when her leading foot slammed down onto the level ground she managed to brace herself against the weight of the sulky behind her. Then she was off again – slipping thi
s time as she plunged down
– but once more her leading leg was strong enough to keep her upright against the weight of the sulky plunging down behind her, and then again she was in headlong flight and
being
desperate
ly hauled back
, both at the same time. But this time she got the hardest whip yet right in the middle of her plunge. It made her arch her back and twist her torso in pain and shock and before she knew it she was down and running on level grass again and he
r
ears were filled with wild cheering. Dazedly she realised that they had actually overtaken another rig on the descent and the final savage whipping had made her jump for the last few feet and land far enough out onto the flat to land running instead of stumbling.

Now there was just the one rig well ahead of her and the awful fire in her entrails to worry about.

Wilbur was smiling broadly as he climbed into his golf buggy to go and watch the ponies through the mud for the final time. That driver had done a fine job! And to grandstand like that! Flinging the girl down the terraces and
even
overtaking on them – right in front of the crowd…that was style! That video would go round the world! And the world would come
knocking
on his door
– and for once that door would be open. A quick sale and rid of her was what he needed now and Walter had been right; it was a seller’s
market and he had the best merchandise
in the whole place.

The lead pony
– from a stable
i
n Wisconsin – had been a che
stnut when the race had started but sweat had darkened her
hair
to black as she approached the mud for the final time. She wasn’t as tall as Lightning but she ran compactly and smoothly. Wilbur watched her pound across the grass towards the mud and noticed the driver wasn’t having to use too much whip. Saliva trailed from around her bit but that was to be expected. As she approached, the driver hauled back on the reins, making her toss her head and causing dew drops of sweat to spray from her. Then, with her speed under control and with the rumble of the wheels and the jingling of the harness becoming louder
as the rig approached,
she was steered deep into the churned up morass which by now offered no easy ways through. And as soon as the pony had her
footing she was whipped up again. With her feet squelching in the rich ooze which sprayed up to her knees as she struggled through and the driver lashing her mercilessly, the crowd relished the spectacle and cheered as the sulky wallowed and slowed dangerously at one point but then pulled clear and splashed into the stream. No sooner had the chestnut disappeared upstream than the palomino was pounding across the grass towards them and Wilbur watched closely.

Lightning
was still eating up the ground with her long stride but the driver was having to use plenty of whip as they made up ground on the leader. And as the noise of her approach became louder and Wilbur could see the wide-eyed distress in her eyes as her ass burned her, he realised that the driver was going to go for broke again. He was quick enough to move back, but not everyone was and there were squeals and shrieks of laughter as the pony was lashed into trying to cross the morass at a full gallop. Thick gobbets of slime and mud sprayed everywhere as her feet and the wheels churned the muck up. She crossed nearly half of it in one stride, then stumbled dangerously before her speed and strength helped her regain her balance and she was through with the sulky skidding and wallowing behind her. Then, in another spray of clear water and with her palomino tail, now heavy with mud swinging behind her, she was off upstream and after the leader, having gained precious seconds on her.

Sweat was beginning to blind Sophie now and her back and buttocks stung viciously as it ran into the welts but still the whip fell on her relentlessly and her guts burned and stung as well. All she cared about was ending the torment and yet her legs were still strong so she pounded blindly across the meadow, responding only to the reins as her vision failed and her eyes added their sting to the symphony of pains engulfing her. Suddenly she felt hard tarmac under her feet and her driver yelled at her and whipped her harder. She blinked and shook her head and caught a glimpse of a pony a few yards ahead. With her reins loose and the whip tormenting her she was free to run at her own limits and not the driver’s. She gritted her teeth around her bit and headed for the cool of the woods, making it as she eased past the chestnut. But it took almost the whole length of the woods to get past and Sophie was hurting too much
to think about what that meant as the ponies thundered along the road almost dead level, sweat and saliva flying from them and the whips snapping at thighs, breasts and backs – the drivers not caring about any subtle messages now. It was a dash for the line with the ponies nearly out on their legs and only the whips would keep them going.

Prince
Hassan sat forwards in his chair, transfixed by the hologram he was watching. The two mud-spattered ponies, the life sized image of the palomino ahead by barely a length as they neared the ranch house filled one end of the Evening Office in his city palace. As usual at this time of the day and in this place, he was naked. His chair was a naked, kneeling slavegirl. He was seated on her back as she knelt
on all fours
crossways behind him. She was steadied by a bar that
ran across
her stomach and by two
horizontal
arms that came off the upright which supported her stomach brace. One arm
curved round her bottom and
ended in a butt plug and was plunged between her buttocks and the other
curved round her face and
ended in a penis gag
which
was stuffed into her mouth. The upright also
carried on up to the height of five feet and
supported the chair’s back. It was formed from another slavegirl,
she was standing with her legs well spread and fastened to a spreader bar
beside the kneeling girl
. She was also tied to the upright
. Her arms tight behind it and her head pulled back and tied with a gagging strap to the same upright, steel pole. This meant that if the
Prince
leaned back his head would be cushioned comfortably by her breasts – and her own head would not get in his way.

But he was unlikely to lean back just yet. The race was too exciting and close. The ponies were now beginning to lose their shape and their heads were going back and rolling as they ran. They were halfway across the car park now and the chestnut had been lashed into
coming back at
the palomino. But she couldn’t get past before the track narrowed and she had to drop
behind
.

There was only one thing her driver could do now – and he did it. On the terraces he pulled out from behind the palomino and gave the chestnut her head down the terraces. The other driver did the same and the two slid and
slithered
down the first slope and both stumbled with exhaustion as the sulkies pushed them onwards as they staggered onto the level. Helplessly they were propelled onto the second slope
with the drivers hanging onto the reins for dear life and savagely pulling back to save themselves if the ponies slipped and fell. Somehow they both made it down and both had the strength to keep their feet under them as the sulkies bore down on them and then they were pushed onto the third slope.

The chestnut gave a despairing whinny as she hit the bottom and her legs wouldn’t support both her and the weight of the rig anymore. She stumbled forwards and fell onto her knees as she hit the level ground. The crowd gasped and
then yelled her on as
she bravely managed to stagger up again but had to start from stationary and the palomino – herself staggering for a pace or two – made it safely and was away and clear on the run in for the
tape
.

The
Prince
clapped his hands in delight. It was the best race he had seen in ages and he slapped his seat’s rump and shoulders in excitement and pleasure. But as he watched the palomino’s owner hold her bridle while her butt plug was removed and she tossed her head and drooled
onto the gleaming mounds of her sizeable breasts
and gasped after the last frantic gallop, he became thoughtful and sat back. His head sank gently into the soft cushions of titflesh he had had hormonally created for the girl, specifically for this purpose.
He thought for a few moments before reaching for his phone, which was resting on the back of another slavegirl who was also on all fours.

“Selim,” he said, when it was answered. “What’s the time in Texas?”

He listened for a second. “Meet me in the Day Office in quarter of an hour. We have work to do!” he said.

He stood up and stretched before wandering over to
yet
another slavegirl. This one was kneeling up, tied to a frame and with only her head – half encased in a leather hood, able to move. He let his still-soft cock brush
her lips and then watched as they gently
parted to let him in and he sighed as he felt her tongue begin to play around his helm and his meatus. As he hardened under her ministrations and filled her mouth, she concentrated on taking him further in, nodding her head back and forth along his shaft until he was fully erect and she softly swallowed him into her throat. He groaned and began to thrust in earnest, his hands gripping her head tightly as he came.

When he was s
atisfied
and she had taken down the final spurt of his ejaculation
he stood back and pulled on a loose robe before leaving the room. He would be an hour or two, but he would need the room as it was when he came back.
The furniture could wait.

Two days later Sophie had been sold. The
Prince
and Wilbur sat opposite each other in Wilbur’s office and signed the necessary paperwork. Apart from the fact that the
Prince
had offered more money than anyone else, he had offered a neat solution to Wilbur’s lingering guilt about selling the girl on when he had given her his word that at the end of her contract she could go free if she wished.

“Then don’t sell me the girl,” the
Prince
had said when he had listened to Wilbur’s protestations that he was a man of honour. The price had already been agreed and so the
Prince
recognised that Wilbur was genuinely troubled.
Western consciences had always amused him. “Sell me the contract. You know that I also am a man of my word and she is safe with me.”

Wilbur thought for a second and then smiled and sat back, looking across the table into the
Prince
’s dark eyes. He had been assured that the terms of the contract would be honoured, what more could he want? Now he could get the girl off his ranch and whoever was looking for her could go look on the other side of the world.

“I will of course take the precaution of chipping her before transit,” the
Prince
concluded. “She is a powerful creature and could make it difficult to get her out of the country if she struggled. It won’t take more than a day to have one delivered and
inserted
.”

“A day or so will not be a problem, your Highness,” Wilbur agreed and the men stood up and shook hands on the deal just as Markham, Wilbur’s private secretary came in.

“I have a party of three booked in for this afternoon and I’m sending the car to pick them up at the Excelsior
, Sir,” he announced. “Is Lightning available?”

Wilbur’s ears pricked up. The Excelsior was where Henry had said the P
.
I
.
had been spotted in a meeting.

“What name did these people give?” he asked.

Markham checked his tablet. “Er, Mister Holden and two female friends who – he assured me – are both accomplished in the handling of rare breed ponies.” ‘Rare breed’ was the accepted euphemism for when discussing ponies in mails and on phones.

“Hol
den? Jesus H. Christ! That guy runs CSL and he’s
up to his neck in The Lodge
,
and the British Prime Minister’s a Goddam
n
member! One word from him and I’ll have the
whole
freaking White House down on me!”

“Problems?” the
Prince
enquired. Wilbur explained reluctantly, aware that this could drastically reduce Lightning’s price.

“You don’t know who this girl is but you don’t want any official curiosity into your affairs, am I right?”

“That’s the size of it,” he admitted.

“I could reduce my offer in these circumstances, in return for removing the girl as a matter of urgency. However that still leaves me with the very
real risks involved in having an unwilling captive on my hands in a country where I am not a
welcome
guest. So let us think this through…”

Eventually it was decided that three other ponies would be offered and that Lightning’s stall door would be left half open like all the others, so as
not to attract any attention. A
groom would keep
her
firmly tethered at the back and carry out some post-race checks – just anything to keep her attention away from the stableyard in case she knew any of the party.

As the car had already been dispatched to pick the party up, and they didn’t want to alert the passengers to anything untoward over the hand’s free
phone
by asking too many questions, it was decided that only once they were safely out on the visitor’s track would Lightning be tacked up and driven out in a different direction to a remote part of the estate
to
await the all clear. It shouldn’t alarm her unduly
, there was no reason the visitors should see anything of her
and on the following afternoon she would be chi
pped,
shipped and safely dispatched
.

Brian was surprised to see the limo that swept out of the ranch gates just as theirs swept in. It was flying the flag of Bakhtar, one he knew well from
arenas around the world.

“Well, well. What’s the
Prince
of Bakhtar doing here?” he wondered aloud.

“Oh, we get all kinds of folk at the ranch. You’d be amazed at who appreciates the ponies these days!” the driver said.

His passengers exchanged smiles.

“Maybe he was looking to buy something,” Brian suggested.

“Oh, Mr Floyd
,
he don’t sell any ponies. They’re all hand picked for a two year contract and then they can stay on if they want,” he told them, a note of pride in his voice as he reeled out the patter. “The Pretty Pony has the fin
est ponies you’ll find anywhere,
and they aren’t even chipped. These are genuine girls, trained and broken in by our
own
special methods,” he concluded.

Brian raised his eyebrows and glanced across at Martha
who mouthed ‘Wow’ at him. He knew the
Prince
well enough to doubt that he had been doing anything other than looking to buy livestock, but that was typical of the man
. He dismissed him from his thoughts and concentrated on
the prospect of driving compliant and unchipped ponies
, which was far more intriguing
.

They were given two Hispanic girls and one white. The Hispanics’ bodies gleamed magnificently in the bright sun and the tanned complexion of the white girl
made a pleasing contrast
.

Raika was immediately taken by the white pony and was petting her and fussing over her before Martha and Brian had made a choice. But her enthusiasm was infectious and they
happily
took a Hispanic girl each. Brian noted the simple tack
on his girl
– no crupper or tail, just the gold stabilising chain between the pierced nipples. The breasts themselves were big for a pony and he stroked them until she whinnied around her bit. Then he pulled the chain between them, testing how far it would go before it dragged the second after the first.

A ta
ll groom approached them as Martha was squeezing and playing with the tits of her mount.

“We gave you some good strong hackers as you’re experienced drivers,” he said. “I’ll show you a route that’ll give you plenty of chances to put them
through their paces.” He held
out a map of the estate on which there were red, blue and green routes marked. “Red is for novices,” he explained. “Blue is the scenic route. But I guess you guys want to run them
so go
for
the green
.”

All three agreed that the ponies looked perfect for a good gallop on a sunny day.

Brian immediately engaged the man in a discussion
about the relative merits of the tit chain as opposed to binding at the roots of the breasts and Martha was free to look around as she mounted and took up the reins of one of the Hispanic ponies. She took up the whip with the new
-found
confidence that a couple of months at The Lodge had given her and flicked the cord across the pony’s shoulders. She watched the coffee coloured skin flinch and shiver and
the head shake, rattling
the
bridle and reins. Having let the girl know she was there and in charge, she sat back and looked around. The yard was well kept and there were a lot of stalls. She was impressed. If all the stalls were occupied then the Pretty Pony could field almost as many ponies as CSL.
Briefly she wondered where they all were if the stalls were occupied. At The Lodge, every girl would be at her door, staring over it, hoping to be picked for a run. But this was obviously a different type of place. Her eye was caught by the gibbet that stuck out from a wall, the chain hanging down from it told her that maybe it wasn’t all that different. The girls were plainly well used to the whip.

Finally the men finished pulling and pushing Brian’s pony’s tits and with a slap to her rump he mounted and took up the reins.

“Any sort of play you want to use them for is included in the price,” the groom told them as he stood back and prepared to wave them off. “They’re trained in all holes and used to being had by ladies too. There might be a surcharge if there’s any cuts is all.”

They set off in line astern and followed the green markers on the tree trunks. As soon as they were clear of the yard they whipped their mounts up to a smart trot and were soon out of sight around a bend in the track.

The groom turned and let out a sigh of relief.

“Ok, guys! Get her out!” he called and White Lightning was led out by two men who had made a great show of feeling every muscle in her body to check for strains after the gruelling race day. As one of them slipped a bridle over her head, the first one went to them with the maps. “Take her out to the East pastures and keep her there till I call. A couple of the lads will meet you and you can keep her busy for an hour or two.”

The men grinned at each other. An hour or two with Lightning would suit them very nicely indeed. One man mounted the sulky and the other went to join those going by truck.

Sophie was glad of the chance to stretch her legs again. After the races she had been
showered, her bottom had been flushed out and she had been rubbed down then taken on her leash round to the front of the house where a huge barbeque had been held. She had both rosettes pinned to her breasts and was immensely proud as Wilbur Beckington-Floyd himself led her around and boasted about her. When she could she stole glances down at her breasts and was pleased with the tracery of thin pink lines that adorned them. Usually a well whipped pony could look forward to some more male attention to other parts of her anatomy, but on this occasion everyone seemed more interested in talking about her. Finally however
she was taken back to her stall, allowed to lie down and play host to any of the men – grooms, guests, whoever; it seemed as though Mr Floyd had declared her common property. She had to admit that she loved the first hour or so. After that her bottom began to sting all over again and this time her vagina followed suit fairly soon. The orgasms were very welcome however and she felt she had earned them. She had woken feeling stiff and sore again and even after the crusted semen had been showered off, she needed exercise to ease the stiffness in her legs.

There had been some activity around her stall, a tall, Arabic-looking man had looked her over from above the stall half-door. Mr Floyd had been hovering behind him and she had been surprised to realise that he was nervous about something. But since then, nothing.

Now she had been checked over with a fine tooth comb and at last she was tacked up and harnessed to a sulky. The groom who was driving her seemed to recognise that she needed to warm up gradually and let her work up to trotting speed gently. He made her walk from time to time and th
en whipped her back up to trotting
an
d by the time they arrived at the gate to a pasture where cattle were grazing and a truck was waiting, she felt relaxed and loose.

A four man gang bang was exactly what the doctor ordered. They tied her to the gate with her arms and legs spread as wide as possible and took it in turns. Each of them entered her vagina and gratifyingly they took their time. As a result she climaxed with each of them.
When they had finished with her she hung panting and sweating in the heat once more as he
r senses cleared and her heart
beat returned to normal. From over by the truck she heard beer cans being popped and the men settled down to relaxing – she hoped it was only temporarily.

She needn’t have worried. The sight of her tied out on the gate
soon re-ignited their interest and one of them came up to her and began to stroke and squeeze her breasts sending shards of pleasure shooting through her. She groaned and stirred in her bonds.

“Hey, guys,” the man called. “She’s ready to go again. What’ll it be; heads or tails?”

A second man came towards her tossing a coin.
“You call it!” he said.

“Heads,” the man with his hands still mauling her breasts called.

“Tails! You go last!” the second man said.

They took her down and turned her around then pushed her head and shoulders through a gap in the bars of the gate before stretching her arms out again and tying them
. She had had to spread her legs wide to get down to the level required and knew she was offering them everything they wanted. Her anus would be exposed between her spread buttocks, the slit of her sex would be perfectly open too, and she could feel the semen still leaking from her and dribbling down her thighs. The bar her arms were tied to crossed her chest just above her breasts and so they were hanging under her
,
ripe and full. She felt cool liquid applied to her bottom but couldn’t tell if it was saliva or lube, whichever it was it did the job and she felt a finger slip easily inside her. As always the ‘full’ feeling took a moment to get used to and then she felt her sphincters stretch to accommodate another
finger
.
Then s
he moaned as she felt
yet
another finger enter her and
prise her open even further
to allow
the head of a cock began to nudge its way in. Even after all the action it had seen since she had become a ponygirl, her anus and rectum
had
remained tight and s
he hoped the cock was well lubricated
. It did seem to be and she felt it open her up to its fullest extent and
the man’s
pubic hair tickled the inner slopes of her buttocks
as he came to rest against her. And certainly he did seem to wan
t to rest, staying
where he was, his cock impaling her rectum and it wasn’t until she hear
d
a can crumple and a sigh of satisfaction
from behind her
that she realised he had finished his drink before going back to buggering her. And as the shaft began to thrust and withdraw inside her she was vaguely aware that she ought to be outraged by such casual use of her body. But the feeling was so good she ignored it – and anyway if he was that relaxed about using her it probably meant that he would use her whenever the mood took him and she was fine with that.

He came quite quickly and was replaced almost immediately, the second cock sliding in smoothly on the emissions left by the first. This man was rougher with her and slammed himself against her backside as he rammed into her again and again. Then he reached forwards and grabbed her breasts so he had to buck his hips into her in order to maintain his grip. The stimulation at both ends of her body allowed her to begin to climb towards climax but he came before she could finish and was gone immediately.
They left her alone for a moment and she felt renewed trickles of sperm run, rapidly cooling, down the backs
of her thighs and ooze
along her labia. She presumed that the third man wasn’t so keen on sloppy seconds and indeed she felt him use a handkerchief to wipe some of it away before he inserted himself. His entry was a little more difficult and he had to force himself in, but even as she gritted her teeth against the pain she heard him sigh with pleasure at how tight she was.
Once he was lodged fully inside her he was able to move more freely and came fairly quickly. The fourth man was obviously in a hurry after watching the ot
her three and administered a no-
nonsense
,
brisk buggering that left her
agonisingly close to an orgasm when he wrenched himself out of her and she felt her anus gape for a second or so before it closed.