"The Great Ponyboy Race"
Posted: Fri Sep 18, 2009 9:25 am
An extract from a new novel from Susan Strict and John Savage "The Great Ponyboy race" - a twisted Femdom version of John Savage's bestseller "The Great Ponygirl race".
Warthog was, as Harriet had ordered, left for the afternoon in an uncomfortable position as the beginning of his punishment. Harriet, however, had not specified what position that should be, leaving it up to the imagination of her stable girls. When she and Mary entered the stable, they both smiled with pleasure. For once, the stable girls had come up with a good idea.
Warthog was, to put it simply, hanging on a wall. Between the horses’ stalls there were short walls, only five feet in height and made of parallel wooden planks, more of a fence than wall, really. Warthog had been lifted and placed on one of these fence/walls with his arms over on one side while his body hung on the other. His crossed wrists had been lashed to one of the planks so that he could not possibly pull them up and allow his body off the wall. His legs were spread in a very wide Vee and held that way by ropes around each ankle. The top plank was cutting into his armpits painfully since all his weight was resting there. Pain and prolonged suffering showed on his face as he looked up to see who had come in.
“Please, Mistress, let me down! This is absolute agony.”
“Do not speak,” Mary snapped. “You know the rules. No talking unless you are told to.”
Harriet frowned. She did not remember giving any order to that exact effect, but she was not going to contradict Mary. No use having to put up with a lot of pleading and begging.
“I would say that it is probable you will spend the night like this,” she told him in a matter-of-fact tone. “But that is not enough punishment. You embarrassed me terribly today. You should have run harder. That Spike was tiring, too. You should have put out more effort.”
“I ran as hard as I could!” he protested.
“Oh…” purred Mary at the infraction of rules. “He’s speaking!” The punishment was piling up for this loser.
“I had considered selling you to a Brazilian Mistress,” she told him. “But then I would not be able to see you suffer. Instead I think I will keep you here so I can see all your suffering and pain. And there will be lots and lots.”
Warthog moaned and looked as if he was about to speak again. Instead, he sighed and hung her head. The two pairs of eyes fixed upon him were both shining with a wicked gleam.
“So, where and how should we begin?” Harriet asked.
“First, do you have your pocketknife?”
Harriet handed her the small, pearl-handled knife. She opened it and grabbed the waistband of Warthog’s shorts. The sharp knife soon converted the garment into a pile of sliced cloth. Mary folded the pocketknife and handed it back to Harriet.
Warthog was used to being naked before his Mistress. On several occasions during the short time he had been there, she had stripped him and tied him down to a bed before tormenting his body. He was, however, very much aware that in the position he was currently bound, not only was he in the perfect position to receive a whipping, but also his genitals were very vulnerable. And with punishment on the minds of these two, that was a very dangerous position to be in.
The male genitalia on display seemed to fascinate Mary. She tapped his testicles, and then gently tugged at a couple of long hairs. The skin rose in response to the tugging. Mary smiled. Then, with a sudden viciousness, she jerked the two hairs out.
Warthog cried out and jerked his hips. He held his tongue but the same thoughts must have been going through his mind as through Mary’s, for he moaned softly in anticipation and fear of what was to come.
Gleefully, Mary took another of couple hairs between her finger and thumb, and then pulled hard. They also came out, accompanied by a small cry from the bound man. “Gee, “Mary said, “This is fun!”
Harriet never ceased to be amazed at the sadistic ingenuity displayed by some women. As she watched, Mary carefully selected pubic hairs and removed them. Again and again she pulled.
The pain from this pulling out of hairs was not excessive. But it was sharp, and she happily noted the tears rolling down Warthog’s face. Yet it was not only the pain that Mary was seeking to inflict. She could have caused a lot more pain in any number of other ways. No, there was another purpose to her actions beyond just some pain. It took a while to finish but eventually she had pulled out every hair she could get her fingers on. Save for a few tiny hairs, Warthog’s genital area was completely bald.
“Mary,” Harriet said, “that doesn’t look very natural.” She grinned. “But it does look rather appealing..”
“I think so,” agreed Mary. She held Warthog’s testicles between fingers and thumb, and squeezed. She increased the pressure until the young man whined and yelped in pain, and then let go suddenly. He gasped.
“I think you should do this to all your slaves,” she remarked. “Makes them look much nicer. But maybe you could use a razor to shave around there. Like slaveboys do on their faces, right?”
“Interesting idea,” she agreed. “We’ll see about that. But what are you going to do now?”
“We could whip him right there, between the legs. That always gets a slaveboy’s attention. We could see how big a thing we could push up his backside. We could stick pins all over her cock. That would smart.”
Mary reached forward again, this time grabbing his cock. She pulled it back towards her, making him moan again. She pinched his skin, and then ran her fingernail around the end of it before poking experimentally at the opening of his urethra, pushing and stretching with the end of her finger.
“You know, I think I could get quite inventive with this,” she commented. “The more I think about it, the more I can see new ways of causing him pain.”
Harriet waited with excited eagerness. What else was this little minx going to come up with?
“AH!” Mary cried out jubilantly. “I’ve got just the thing. Or I will get it. Harriet, if you want play around with him then you should do it now. When I’m finished with him, you won’t his male bits anywhere near you for a while.”
With that, Mary took off, leaving a groaning naked man and his owner alone.
“Well,” Harriet mused, “I don’t mind a slaveboy’s bits from time to time, as long as I’m in control of them.”
Actually, if the truth be known, Harriet was decidedly horny. Watching her ponyboy suffering the plucking of his hair had been a turn-on. As was his groaning now. She wondered if he was very sore where the hair had been pulled out, and whether he would still be able to react normally. He did seem to be aroused already, presumably as the natural result of Mary’s attention to his genitalia, as uncomfortable as that must have been for him. She set about finding out.
He was not much good to her tied face down over the dividing wall of the stables. It would have been unnecessarily risky to untie him when she was on her own, although she was quite sure she could handle any male on her own, even one who was facing severe punishment and desperate to get away. Fortunately, she did not need to untie him completely. She could simply loosen the cord attaching his wrists to the lower plank without actually separating the wrists at all - which she did, and then pushed him up and backward with all her strength.
He fell back. His ankles remained attached to the lower plank, so he landed heavily on his back in the straw with his legs bent at the knees and still attached. His buttocks were on the ground, just, but his legs remained raised slightly from the floor. Harriet lost no time in pulling the cord between his wrists tight and tying it around a plank in the opposite wall.
His eyes were closed, and the erection had gone. It was rapidly restored by no more than a quick squeeze and a rub.
Looking at his face, she could see that he had shut his eyes and was grimacing. Maybe the plucked skin hurt after all. Or maybe he just did not like women. Well, whatever the reason for his distasteful expression, she did not care. How good it felt to have his solid erection inside her was all that mattered to her right at that moment.
For a while, Harriet was unsure whether he would orgasm before she did. That was usually the problem with this particular activity, which was why she so often preferred to use a man’s face for her pleasure. Or a woman’s. It was simply that sometimes she liked the feeling of deeper penetration. There were alternatives, of course, but an artificial device was never quite the same as that part of a man’s anatomy.
She could order him not to orgasm and threaten all sorts of dire consequences if he did, which sometimes worked. She could cause him pain when he was getting close, but sometimes that was self-defeating, resulting only in limpness. Anyway, it involved effort on her part, and an interruption of the rhythm that she needed for a really satisfying climax of her own.
This time, she was lucky. She had a shuddering, highly satisfying orgasm a fraction of a second before he did. She had only just finished adjusting her clothing when Mary returned.
“Oh, I see you took my advice,” she commented, looking down at Warthog. “Look what I got!”
Warthog was, as Harriet had ordered, left for the afternoon in an uncomfortable position as the beginning of his punishment. Harriet, however, had not specified what position that should be, leaving it up to the imagination of her stable girls. When she and Mary entered the stable, they both smiled with pleasure. For once, the stable girls had come up with a good idea.
Warthog was, to put it simply, hanging on a wall. Between the horses’ stalls there were short walls, only five feet in height and made of parallel wooden planks, more of a fence than wall, really. Warthog had been lifted and placed on one of these fence/walls with his arms over on one side while his body hung on the other. His crossed wrists had been lashed to one of the planks so that he could not possibly pull them up and allow his body off the wall. His legs were spread in a very wide Vee and held that way by ropes around each ankle. The top plank was cutting into his armpits painfully since all his weight was resting there. Pain and prolonged suffering showed on his face as he looked up to see who had come in.
“Please, Mistress, let me down! This is absolute agony.”
“Do not speak,” Mary snapped. “You know the rules. No talking unless you are told to.”
Harriet frowned. She did not remember giving any order to that exact effect, but she was not going to contradict Mary. No use having to put up with a lot of pleading and begging.
“I would say that it is probable you will spend the night like this,” she told him in a matter-of-fact tone. “But that is not enough punishment. You embarrassed me terribly today. You should have run harder. That Spike was tiring, too. You should have put out more effort.”
“I ran as hard as I could!” he protested.
“Oh…” purred Mary at the infraction of rules. “He’s speaking!” The punishment was piling up for this loser.
“I had considered selling you to a Brazilian Mistress,” she told him. “But then I would not be able to see you suffer. Instead I think I will keep you here so I can see all your suffering and pain. And there will be lots and lots.”
Warthog moaned and looked as if he was about to speak again. Instead, he sighed and hung her head. The two pairs of eyes fixed upon him were both shining with a wicked gleam.
“So, where and how should we begin?” Harriet asked.
“First, do you have your pocketknife?”
Harriet handed her the small, pearl-handled knife. She opened it and grabbed the waistband of Warthog’s shorts. The sharp knife soon converted the garment into a pile of sliced cloth. Mary folded the pocketknife and handed it back to Harriet.
Warthog was used to being naked before his Mistress. On several occasions during the short time he had been there, she had stripped him and tied him down to a bed before tormenting his body. He was, however, very much aware that in the position he was currently bound, not only was he in the perfect position to receive a whipping, but also his genitals were very vulnerable. And with punishment on the minds of these two, that was a very dangerous position to be in.
The male genitalia on display seemed to fascinate Mary. She tapped his testicles, and then gently tugged at a couple of long hairs. The skin rose in response to the tugging. Mary smiled. Then, with a sudden viciousness, she jerked the two hairs out.
Warthog cried out and jerked his hips. He held his tongue but the same thoughts must have been going through his mind as through Mary’s, for he moaned softly in anticipation and fear of what was to come.
Gleefully, Mary took another of couple hairs between her finger and thumb, and then pulled hard. They also came out, accompanied by a small cry from the bound man. “Gee, “Mary said, “This is fun!”
Harriet never ceased to be amazed at the sadistic ingenuity displayed by some women. As she watched, Mary carefully selected pubic hairs and removed them. Again and again she pulled.
The pain from this pulling out of hairs was not excessive. But it was sharp, and she happily noted the tears rolling down Warthog’s face. Yet it was not only the pain that Mary was seeking to inflict. She could have caused a lot more pain in any number of other ways. No, there was another purpose to her actions beyond just some pain. It took a while to finish but eventually she had pulled out every hair she could get her fingers on. Save for a few tiny hairs, Warthog’s genital area was completely bald.
“Mary,” Harriet said, “that doesn’t look very natural.” She grinned. “But it does look rather appealing..”
“I think so,” agreed Mary. She held Warthog’s testicles between fingers and thumb, and squeezed. She increased the pressure until the young man whined and yelped in pain, and then let go suddenly. He gasped.
“I think you should do this to all your slaves,” she remarked. “Makes them look much nicer. But maybe you could use a razor to shave around there. Like slaveboys do on their faces, right?”
“Interesting idea,” she agreed. “We’ll see about that. But what are you going to do now?”
“We could whip him right there, between the legs. That always gets a slaveboy’s attention. We could see how big a thing we could push up his backside. We could stick pins all over her cock. That would smart.”
Mary reached forward again, this time grabbing his cock. She pulled it back towards her, making him moan again. She pinched his skin, and then ran her fingernail around the end of it before poking experimentally at the opening of his urethra, pushing and stretching with the end of her finger.
“You know, I think I could get quite inventive with this,” she commented. “The more I think about it, the more I can see new ways of causing him pain.”
Harriet waited with excited eagerness. What else was this little minx going to come up with?
“AH!” Mary cried out jubilantly. “I’ve got just the thing. Or I will get it. Harriet, if you want play around with him then you should do it now. When I’m finished with him, you won’t his male bits anywhere near you for a while.”
With that, Mary took off, leaving a groaning naked man and his owner alone.
“Well,” Harriet mused, “I don’t mind a slaveboy’s bits from time to time, as long as I’m in control of them.”
Actually, if the truth be known, Harriet was decidedly horny. Watching her ponyboy suffering the plucking of his hair had been a turn-on. As was his groaning now. She wondered if he was very sore where the hair had been pulled out, and whether he would still be able to react normally. He did seem to be aroused already, presumably as the natural result of Mary’s attention to his genitalia, as uncomfortable as that must have been for him. She set about finding out.
He was not much good to her tied face down over the dividing wall of the stables. It would have been unnecessarily risky to untie him when she was on her own, although she was quite sure she could handle any male on her own, even one who was facing severe punishment and desperate to get away. Fortunately, she did not need to untie him completely. She could simply loosen the cord attaching his wrists to the lower plank without actually separating the wrists at all - which she did, and then pushed him up and backward with all her strength.
He fell back. His ankles remained attached to the lower plank, so he landed heavily on his back in the straw with his legs bent at the knees and still attached. His buttocks were on the ground, just, but his legs remained raised slightly from the floor. Harriet lost no time in pulling the cord between his wrists tight and tying it around a plank in the opposite wall.
His eyes were closed, and the erection had gone. It was rapidly restored by no more than a quick squeeze and a rub.
Looking at his face, she could see that he had shut his eyes and was grimacing. Maybe the plucked skin hurt after all. Or maybe he just did not like women. Well, whatever the reason for his distasteful expression, she did not care. How good it felt to have his solid erection inside her was all that mattered to her right at that moment.
For a while, Harriet was unsure whether he would orgasm before she did. That was usually the problem with this particular activity, which was why she so often preferred to use a man’s face for her pleasure. Or a woman’s. It was simply that sometimes she liked the feeling of deeper penetration. There were alternatives, of course, but an artificial device was never quite the same as that part of a man’s anatomy.
She could order him not to orgasm and threaten all sorts of dire consequences if he did, which sometimes worked. She could cause him pain when he was getting close, but sometimes that was self-defeating, resulting only in limpness. Anyway, it involved effort on her part, and an interruption of the rhythm that she needed for a really satisfying climax of her own.
This time, she was lucky. She had a shuddering, highly satisfying orgasm a fraction of a second before he did. She had only just finished adjusting her clothing when Mary returned.
“Oh, I see you took my advice,” she commented, looking down at Warthog. “Look what I got!”