It was almost dawn. The two women were asleep on a large bed, close together in a spooning position, wearing nothing but underwear. They couldn’t look more different, yet the combination was astoundingly beautiful. The first was a young and athletic black girl, 19 years old, tall and sexy. In front of her – and in her arms – laid a white, petite blonde woman in her thirties, very attractive despite a little excess weight here and there.
Any casual observer would have rightly said they were lovers. But they could never have fathomed that – within a few hours – the first would be on all-fours like an animal, completely naked except for kneepads on her legs, a bit with bridles in her mouth, and a small harness with stirrups tied around her chest. Even more unimaginable was that the second woman would be sitting astride her, creating a slight bend in the middle of the girl’s back under her weight, while having her feet in the stirrups, bridles in her hands, and a riding crop ready to hit her over and over again.
Amanda was the first to wake up, around 8 pm. She decided to let Tiffany sleep as long as possible: she would need all of her strength today. But it wasn’t long until the girl opened her eyes and kissed the back of her lover’s neck.
“How did you sleep, my Rider? Are you ready to beat the living crap out of me today?” Tiffany asked with a sleepy giggle.
“I wish I didn’t have to do that, sweetie. At this point you know it turns me on to ride you long and hard, but this will be different. It will be brutal. I’m afraid you will resent me afterwards, and never look at me the same way…”
“Amanda, I want you to stop there” Tiffany interrupted her. “I am nothing but your slave today. And I could only be upset with you if you didn’t push me hard enough, and we ended up not winning the damn race!”
Amanda turned around to face her. She kissed her on the lips, and then whispered with an aroused voice and a coy smile: “Very well, slave. If that’s the case, show me how strong is your desire to please me your Rider.”
Tiffany kissed Amanda on the lips, with a bright smile. Then she kissed her neck, her chest, and she kept proceeding down very slowly until her lover – overwhelmed with desire – forcefully grabbed her hair to pull her head towards her own crotch. As the girl’s thick lips and expert tongue drove her to absolute ecstasy, Amanda resolved to return the favor that night… after they had won the race!
Yes: she would do anything in her power to win. After all, her ponygirl was asking for it.
Megan had planned the event in every detail, renting out an entire country club for the occasion. All guests were wealthy donors to the sorority, mostly middle-aged, and kinky enough to appreciate that type of show. Before reaching a large room with a breakfast buffet, each guest was led by one of the Princesses through a long aisle where they could admire the seven ponygirls who would be competing later in the morning.
Somebody had complained that the girls would get tired, keeping their position on all-fours as they were admired. But Megan had won that argument, arguing that the guests would appreciate a close look and that all girls would be in the same exact situation, so the race would still be fair.
Megan was just giving the tour to a couple in their mid-forties. “This pony’s name is Tiffany. She belongs to me. I mean, she was assigned to me as a maid.”
“She looks in amazing shape! Why is she blindfolded?” the woman asked.
“We wanted to show off the ponygirls without affecting their concentration ahead of the race. So we decided to block their vision. They are also wearing earplugs, so she can’t hear us right now. But let me show you something…”
Megan placed her hand right underneath Tiffany’s nose. The girl recognized her scent and she immediately kissed it.
“That’s impressive. She must really love you!” said the man.
“She is very devoted. I’m a lucky Princess” Megan said with a coy smile.
“I wonder what it feels like to ride such a stunning girl as if she was a horse…” the woman said, as if thinking aloud.
“Well… For a generous donor such as yourself, I’m sure that could be arranged. Why don’t we meet after the race to discuss the details?” Megan winked at her. Then she added, whispering: “Please don’t tell anyone though!”
A couple of hours later, Princess Megan was on an electric golf cart together with Queen Janice. The two girls were followed by a dozen or so additional carts, each occupied by a handful of guests: they would be all following the race on the narrow driveway of the golf course, with a perfect view of the race as the Riders led their ponygirls through the fields.
About twenty yards away, Amanda was nervous and thrilled as she slowly rode Tiffany to the start line, getting aligned with six other riding Princesses and their respective ponygirls. There was electricity in the air. Some of the riders seemed pretty gentle and somewhat clueless about what was about to happen, but at least three of them sported a fiercely competitive expression while brandishing their riding crops. Amanda tried her best to ignore them, and she decided to focus on her own mount instead: Tiffany felt strong and tense between her legs, yet she allowed her rider to sink a little in the middle of her back for comfort and stability.
Amanda pulled the reins a little harder, making the rubber bit stretch Tiffany’s thick lips open. Then she leaned forward, kissed the girl’s cheek and whispered in her ear: “This is it. You are mine. Get ready to obey and suffer. Carry my weight to that finish line, slave… and let’s win this damn race!”
That’s when Queen Janice – with perfect timing – activated her megaphone to start the countdown: “Three… Two… One… GO!!!!”
A mix of loud female voices were immediately heard all over the golf field. Some were the screams of the riding Princesses, as they encouraged their mounts forward. Some were the moans of pain of their respective maids, turned into four-legged human ponies and crawling beneath their riders while hopelessly trying to escape their whips. Amanda kept her cool and only encouraged Tiffany with a squeeze of her thighs: the race was expected to last at least 15 minutes, so it was important to conserve enough energy for the final stages.
Two leaders quickly gained some ground on the competition. Their two ponygirls were literally trotting – encouraged by their rider’s frequent whipping of their naked ass – but Amanda thought they would probably burn out: she had spent time studying the competition with Megan, and they knew those were petite riders astride strong basketball players, who were more like sprinters rather than endurance athletes.
The golf carts followed the leaders for a few minutes, then they slowed down to take a look at the main group. The advantage of the two leaders was sizeable – Megan thought – but her slaves looked solid on their fast-walk pace. One rider had lost some ground, so the main group was now made by four riders. Amanda used her riding crop for the first time – tapping her mount twice on the shoulders – and Tiffany promptly progressed to take the lead of the main group.
As they rode through a sharp turn, they could barely avoid an unexpected obstacle: one of the lead ponygirls must have fallen, and since the rules required the rider’s feet to never touch the ground, the Princess astride her had placed her own feet on the girl’s forearms, making it almost impossible for her to get up on all-fours with the full weight of her rider. They didn’t remember that a brief contact of the rider’s feet with the ground was actually allowed in case of emergency. While the two girls struggled to get back into the race, Amanda and the two following riders rode around them and kept going. But the fourth pair of the main group – which had started losing ground once Amanda had increased the pace – came into the curve at a brisk trot in an attempt to catch up. The excited audience on their golf carts could see the girl push her mount with repeated whiplashes, but there was no way they could alert her to the upcoming danger: she and her ponygirl crashed into the struggling duo on the ground, just as they were about to finally get back up.
With two competitors out of the race and a third far behind, Amanda and the two riders behind her were now determined to catch the lone leader: a pretty and often-chatty junior with long blonde pigtails, whose name was Erika. They could see her at a distance, which meant the gap was probably shrinking.
Erika’s mount – a gorgeous freshman named Alyssa – was immediately in trouble as they hit a steep hill. She started gasping for oxygen and her shaky arms proceeded more and more slowly, despite repeated whiplashes from her rider. Halfway through the hill she came to a stop and she dropped down on her elbows, forcing Erika’s butt to slide down on her back towards her neck. Amanda passed them a few seconds later, riding Tiffany at a relatively slow but steady walk and taking the lead. She was followed closely only by one rider at this point: it was Emily – the Asian senior from the winning cheerleading team (see chapter 1) – astride her new cheerleading base and personal maid, a strong brunette named Jill.
About ten minutes into the race, it was clear that Amanda and Emily would be fighting for the final victory. Their ponygirls were visibly tired, but they seemed to have some endurance left. Both riders increased the frequency and harshness of their whiplashes during the following few minutes, and that barely pushed their mounts through a demanding sandy section Megan had insisted on including in the course. Tiffany seemed to suffer from the higher weight of her rider at that point, as Emily emerged from the sand in the lead. But as soon as they were back on the turf, Amanda went all out with her riding crop on Tiffany’s butt, hitting the same spot over and over again to deliver maximum pain: “Faster! Faster!” she yelled, while Tiffany groaned and pushed forward underneath her.
It was almost over now, Amanda knew. But the long straight stretch leading to the finish line was a struggle. Both ponygirls looked delirious, panting and crawling neck-and-neck under the weight of their riders, reacting as well as they could to the continuous whipping the women astride them were inflicting to their exhausted bodies.
The turf became increasingly narrow, blocked by trees on one side and a large pond on the other. They were now riding so close to each other that Emily’s left knee was pushing against Amanda’s right thigh. Neither of them wanted to give up, as the finish line was right around the corner. That’s when it happened: Jill’s right arm gave in for a second. It was enough for Emily’s weight to slide forward, pushing her exhausted ponygirl’s face into the dirt and making her fall off her back to the side. Emily screamed in pain as she hit the ground with a hip, rolled on her back and fell into the pond. Both her feet luckily snapped out of the stirrups, but she instinctively held on to the reins, thus dragging Jill into the water with her.
All the spectators were now open-mouthed. They had just gotten off their golf carts to watch the end of the race on a wooden bridge right above the competitors. But nobody took action, even when it became apparent that Emily could not swim and Jill was simply too exhausted to rescue her. Actually it looked as if Emily could end up dragging Jill down, as she desperately held on to her to try and save herself.
When she realized that no immediate rescue was being deployed, Amanda took action. She pulled the reins to stop Tiffany and she jumped off her back almost at the same time. Then she dove into the water and quickly managed to pull the panicking girls towards the edge, where they could hold on with their hands to stay afloat. Tiffany, initially startled by the sudden absence of weight on her back, quickly realized what was happening and helped the girls out of the water, one by one. In stark contrast to what the spectators had witnessed so far, the four girls hugged each other, panting and crying. For a few seconds their roles in the sorority didn’t matter anymore.
Then they saw her: the third competitor left in the race, getting out of the sandy section and heading towards them. Amanda and Emily looked at each other in the eyes. At once, they grabbed the reins of their taller mounts and pulled them down, as a signal to get down on their hands and knees. But they didn’t resume their battle for the win. Instead they rode their ponygirls next to each other – holding an arm around each other’s waist with their thighs touching – and they slowly crossed the finish line together.
Even Megan – who for a few seconds had been mad at Amanda for interrupting her ride to victory – participated in the ensuing standing ovation.
The outcome of the race had been more spectacular and emotional than anyone could have planned for.
It was a triumph.